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About Gwydion

  • Birthday 05/26/2002

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  1. Gwydion

    [OP-F1] Tresure Hunting

    "There's nothing about fog that produces illusory images. Mental illness does that easily, though." Then he realized the implications of that. Gwydion waved his hands. "I'm not accusing you. Actually, I'm not telling you to relax, either; let's keep an eye out, just in case." He returned to his work, keeping an eye or two on the fog. If something was there, he'd rather not it surprise him; despite that he couldn't do anything about it anyway, given his stats. Gwydion saw a frog leap from one lilly pad to another. He rounded the pond until he was on its side then waited. (94636 - LD 15, Success) The frog went for an absentminded jump to land, not noticing Gwydion's outstretched arms. He scooped the little guy up, took him to some place out of view, then stabbed him. Gwydion shrugged. There was another material, at least. He went back to Krysta. "Have you tasted frog?"
  2. Gwydion

    [OP-F1] Tresure Hunting

    "Dungeons and Dragons... Now that name I remember. Used to play a fighter. A real nobleman." He plunged his hand underwater. "All good things must come to an end, I suppose; my group shattered when we graduated. And here I am trapped in its spawn." Gwydion fished about, hand groping in the depths. (94430 - LD 19, Success) He grabbed something slimy. Disgusted but hopeful, Gwydion yanked it out, sending a spray of water over anyone near him. "My bad!" It was a strange tube like celery but smelling of fish and with a thick slime coating. He scrunched his nose and tossed it up, but it entered his inventory. "Is this really determined by dice? I sure think I'm finding these things myself, but... I suppose if a system ran in the background, it could make potential materials disappear before I found them, or gently shift my movements to cause a fumble that destroys them. It's troubling to consider, don't you think? That our success is determined by dice? This is a game and all, but..." @Tressa @Krysta
  3. Gwydion

    [OP-F1] Tresure Hunting

    Gwydion returned and found his group when he heard Nova's declaration. Krysta led them to a quaint little pond, nestled in a groove in the terrain. Gwydion yawned and lazed to a bush, then took his blade and cut its top off. Inside, he found... (94303 - LD 6, Fail) A whole bunch of sticks. Leaves, too. Not that he expected much else. Actually, Gwydion was coming to learn that nobody in this world had much luck with gathering. He pretended to wander where Krysta was looking under a bush and intensely examined a mushroom growing from a tree. Poking at the mushroom, he said casually: "What path led you here? Were there any sharp turns that I might be wary of in my own life? In other words, have you advice?" Wow. That wasn't very casual. Come on, remember El's advice. "...You know, for picking plants. Thorns? And, uh, where... what sort of tracks do beasts have? Because they eat plants."
  4. Gwydion turned and watched the boar. It was actually pretty cute, considering its vicious bloodlust and ugly face. The pup charged, and he stepped gently to the side, picking the thing up by a bit of fat on its smooth collar. He held it up to his face. "You're adorable, little guy. If you stop dodging my attacks, I promise I'll make this quick. What do you say?" It snorted, continuing to struggle. "Fine." Gwydion flung the child at the wall, then skewered it on his sword. The creature's health bar dropped dangerously low. As long as he didn't miss his next attack, it'd be one boar down. He was already sick of this. Images of days spent finding flowers flashed through his mind. The boar fell from the wall, then, enraged, charged at Gwydion. It made a slicing tusk uppercut; that might've hurt if he wasn't protected by an inch of grey steel. Boar Pup [1 (-4) HP] [3 DMG]Gwydion [60 (4 damage - 17 mit) HP] [4 (-1 + 1) EN] [17 MIT] (94193 - BD 10, MD 9)
  5. Gwydion left Lyle's forge and navigated the Town of Beginnings to its main gate. It was odd how empty the gate always was, compared to the rest of the town; Gwydion assumed it due to the population being mainly NPCs. He stepped out, met with vast plains. To the northwest was a distant forest; he shuddered at the thought; and to the northeast was a dip in the land. Far north were barely visible mountains. He scouted the plains for boar pups, and sure enough, he saw one wandering right against the town's wall. He dashed for it, but his loud armor gave him away. The pup turned in the middle of his swing, then ran under his legs and rammed its tusks into the... bad spot. It did nothing, however. As Gwydion figured. If a wolf couldn't hurt him, this little boar wouldn't. Gladly, Gwydion's arm wasn't jello, either. Boar Pup [5 HP] [3 DMG] Gwydion [60 (4 damage - 17 mit) HP] [4 (-2) EN] [17 MIT] (94192 - BD 1, MD 9)
  6. Gwydion

    [OP-F1] Tresure Hunting

    Gwydion waited for a lull in the conversation, then stepped out of the brush, trying for drama. "Fairytail speaker? That can't be argued. There will be roleplayers, my friends, in any game; even if that game is honestly just life at this point." He coughed after that momentary loss of his tone. "I'm Gwydion, a pristine player; too fresh, I'd think, since it took me twelve minutes to kill a wolf. Now, do you see this?" He gestured at the gathering. "A mess. And I'm overwhelmed. I'd appreciate if those who wish to approach me do it alone." Gwydion did a parting bow, but this time his back creaked. He gave a barely audible "Ow." Then he turned and strode out of the clearing, cringing; and he raised a hand, breaking off a piece of a low-hanging branch as he went. (94190 - LD 18, Success) It didn't shatter. "Hah! Told you it'd count! You can make a... Oh." He muttered under his breath, "a fire, or something."
  7. Gwydion was halfway to the door when Lyle laughed. "Boars. Boar children." "That's not any better!" "Sure it is. Boars can't grow up to be people." Gwydion sighed. "I'll accept your quest, Lyle Tealeaf, if you'll answer a question. "Yes?" He took sandpaper to the metal bar, smoothing the top. Gwydion wasn't an expert on blacksmithing, but he was pretty sure the developer assigned to this didn't know the process. "Why the name Tealeaf?" "I was going to be a potion mixer before that damn Zackaria took my spot." "Right. Why do you want the blasted pigs dead, then, and how many tusks do you need?" "Think yourself clever, too." Lyle took the bar out of the clamp and brought it to his forge. He heated it again then set it on his anvil and began pounding. "No. That's just how things go in MMORPGs." "Three tusks. Bring 'em back for something on my prize shelf and a potion." He gestured towards the display case. "No offense, but those are shabby." "Get the damn tusks, kid. I don't have all day. Some artist is waiting for a ring. Got to have tusks for gold rings. Everyone knows that."
  8. "You're not half as sly as you think," Lyle said. Gwydion stood in the sweltering workshop. He winced. "I know. If that wall was not, you'd have heard me an hour ago. It's this armor; and that I'm naturally quiet as an elephant." The blacksmith nodded, taking a small bar of metal and placing it in red coals. "So what happened yesterday? You want to be elegant, boy, I can tell. But that wasn't." "I... was tired, Lyle. I'm sorry for dismissing you. It was rude. And I'm twenty four years old." "I'm forty. Your point?" He took the bar, brought it to a strange metal mechanism, placed it inside, and spun a rod; it clamped the bar in place. Gwydion tested it. It wouldn't budge. "Well, that I'm an adult. Pardon, but you don't look forty." Lyle grimaced. "I know. Must be the heat. Anyway, that job I had for you. I need some children killed." Of course.
  9. Gwydion left the Monument and went around to a street behind it. This one seemed decorated for some sort of event; colored silk hung between the buildings, striped tents were erected, and all sorts of flags flew. He walked on a sidewalk, not the main road. It was the only sidewalk he'd seen in Aincrad so far, this being a game where carriages were uncommon. A sign hung by a frayed rope outside a shopfront. It said "Lyle Tealeaf's Smithy." A glass case displayed steel tools, weapons, and armor, though curiously the weapons were all blunt, and the armor was dull, scraped, and unpolished. It wasn't what Gwydion would present. Behind the case he saw Lyle, an aged man with a beard that proclaimed it. His weathered face was lit orange by sparks; he wrought metal with a heavy hammer, muscles tense and sleek with sweat. Not wanting to interrupt the man's work, Gwydion watched from the window until he was done. Lyle dunked the glowing metal in water and beckoned in Gwydion's direction. Had he known the whole time?
  10. He crouched in front of the obsidian tablet, peering to read a few names. "Let's see..." "Aereth sure has some kills under his belt. I'd better be careful around him, whoever he is. Or her. That name is rather ambiguous." Then he read the deaths by boars. Gwydion laughed, unable to control himself, in a place that's almost holy. He couldn't imagine a single way to perish in a boar fight if one was trying. Unless they were cursed by RNGesus, of course. He'd need to make some offerings, soon. He noticed the suicides and frowned. Could they be blamed? There were three choices. First, enter a world of combat where you'd a high chance of death by the blade. Second, rot in the streets, starving, but never dying; Gwydion wasn't sure how bad that could get, but if it was anything like the ancient book Elantris he'd read... Choice three would be the best. Hell, it might be fun. Like skydiving.
  11. Gwydion will take this alone
  12. Gwydion stepped confidently out of the inn, then stood strikingly heroic, hands on his armored waist, eyes to the sky. He had recovered from his previous quest. It'd taken a toll on his mental health; his experience in the woods was so monotonous and boring that he needed a good few days' rest. But he was ready to move now. He took off running, but soon the crowds of the Town of Beginnings swallowed him, slowing his pace. He eventually made his way to the central plaza, which was strangely empty considering the bustle of the main street. There were a few players about, but no NPCs. Gwydion entered the Monument of Life, a grand building of black marble with a domed roof that was right behind the plaza. It was stunning as always. Windows lined the upper walls, glowing a neon blue, and the architecture was cathedral-like; it was fitting, considering this room commemorated Sword Art Online's victims. Gwydion (Level 3) (60 HP) (6 EN) Equipped Items: Steel Arming Sword, Steel Plate Armor. Battle Ready Items: (5) Healing Potion. Skills: Heavy Armor I.
  13. Gwydion

    [OP-F1] Tresure Hunting

    So many things to juggle. Gwydion was starting to feel a bit crowded. He fought the corners of his mouth, but they won, and he gave an involuntary grin. "Well... I suppose I can try..." "It - that being your previous remark about my mannerisms of vocalization - is presently, in the opinion that is owned, informed, and controlled (among other things) by me, unoffensive and actually contains wisdom; it has informed me of others' typical reactions to this way of making myself understood." "Yeah, no, I can be normal, man. No prob'." Gwydion gave a thumbs up to Ryo. "He's right. Gwyd here. Like grid, or... squid. Yeah, squid, but with a 'g' instead of a 'sk.' If you'd search for materials and say you're part of the group I'm in - I sorta forget who else is - I'd be thankful!" He saw Ell stick his hand in a bush. Gwydion did the same. (94063 - LD 6, Fail) He found nothing but a few leaves and a twig. You could build a fire with that twig - it should be counted as a material, right? The twig shattered.
  14. Gwydion

    [OP-F1] Tresure Hunting

    Gwydion was conflicted. He wanted to loom over the boy, make him uncomfortable, for a laugh. That worried him. He was supposed to be better than that. "The best man will win. Skill hones finer than steel. Though... perhaps not in this game, where numbers rule." He stepped away and stood up. Gwydion considered gaving up on stealth, figuring his armor would betray him anyway, and that the combatants would be too focused on their fight care; but if the black player won, he might continue his rampage. So he carefully searched his surroundings until his back protested this posture. (94036 - LD 7, Fail) Gwydion wasn't surprised. All he found was some sort of sad, wilted vine. He brought it back to the boy, showed it to him. "I'm certain about one thing. My group won't win this contest. They have me, after all. How does yours fare? Oh, and..." He watched the fighters again. "Have you popcorn?"
  15. Gwydion

    [OP-F1] Tresure Hunting

    Gwydion nodded to Krysta. "We should split up; that will help us cover more area." He waved to his group and was swallowed by the trees. The forest was damp and cool today. He cut a path, hacking off branches in his way, until he realized that he was destroying nature's beauty and quit. As if nature's thanks, Gwydion stumbled upon a pleasant clearing with a pond fed by a tiny waterfall. A frog sprung from a lily pad, startled by his appearance. He foraged around the water's edge for useful looking materials. (94034 - LD 7, Fail) All he found was a four-petaled silver flower. He reflexively jerked away, then suppressed the urge to vomit. Gwydion left and searched further. Eventually he heard an odd, rhythmic voice, though he couldn't tell what it said, and crept towards it. He saw a blonde boy - rather young, by his size - with a white cloak. He crouched behind a bush. Gwydion stepped slowly up to him, but his clinking armor negated his rolled footsteps. He put his head over the boy's shoulder to get a good view, whispering fast - to not startle him - "Calm! It's okay. I'm Gwydion, a friend. What's going on here?" In his sight was a man in black, spiked armor, and another in regular gear.