Freyd - The Whisper in Shadows

Once they were safely above and out of sight, Freyd told them to head for the main gate. Meanwhile, he skirted the edges of the buildings at ground level. If things went wrong, he could raise enough of a ruckus at ground level to give them a chance to recover. Long shadows stretched across the broad avenues, once pristine and full of life. Only fragments of long lost civilization still dotted them now, surrounded by shuffling, undead reminders of those who lingered beyond the end of days. Freyd might have pitied them, had they ever actually lived. It was all backstory, of course, and relatively well executed, but ultimately just a veneer for angry mobs that would not hesitate to kill them all. Strange how that had to be the part that remained 'real.' Freyd made good time, keeping to the shadows and pausing as necessary to avoid detection. The others were struggling with moving along the roofs. Their wood frames were largely rotten and creaked heavily under their weight.

"You two are still as cute as ever, I see." He laughed as he said it, waving them both over towards some shade under a shop's awning. He pulled out a couple of additional cold drinks from his inventory for each of them. Freyd was rarely unprepared. "You certainly look like you've been working hard, Kil! Retraining is paying off, it seems. Good for you! You'll catch up to Haine in no time." A hint of a wink could be seen beneath his cowl, which he promptly folded back, revealing his plain features and unruly brown crop of hair. Freyd seemed to be in good spirits, at least for Freyd. "A penguin, eh? Was that because you so enjoyed hanging out on floor four? You have a lovely house, by the way. I think I neglected to mention it during my last visit." Persi bounded out from under his armor and nuzzled herself up against Haine's leg. "Hey, watch it Persi. Kil will get jealous if you soak up the attention." A pair of brilliant blue eyes looked up at him dismissively. Getting Persistence to back off anything she put her mind to was, by definition, difficult.

Freyd's acknowledgement arrived about three seconds before he walked around the corner. Did he do that on purpose, or did he have an army of copies scattered across every floor on standby for these calls. Shadow obscured his eyes under his black cowl as he approached, but a pleasant smile was visible. He enjoyed spending time with Kiluia and Haine. They were good people, and he needed to be around that whenever he could. "Hey, you two! Good to see you both again. I hear you're going after the Wurms. I've done the quest, but wasn't even allowed to swing my sword last time I came along." His hand waved dismissively, as if suggesting that it was just better not to ask. "This might provide a bit more action than a lessons quest, or that annoying queen bee thing. Count me in!" Forgiven Disobedience appeared in his hands, resting lightly on his shoulder. Despite being dressed in well-worn travel leathers, Freyd was completely unbothered by the heat. "Persi and I met on floor five. It makes this place seem like no big deal." @Kiluia Seiko

The diseased fell in droves before Freyd's merciless advance. The first pack was down before Quip and Dingo had even caught up to him. He pressed forward to ensure that the alley was clear, waving the others on while watching the surrounding mobs for signs that their escape had been noticed. So far, so good. Quip was starting to shake off the shock. "Can you climb," he asked her? She nodded, her blonde ringlets slipping down into her face. "Yes, I think so." Steadying herself on Dingo's shoulder, Freyd gave her a boost to climb a series of stacked crated that could get her to high ground. Dingo made ready to go next. "Thanks. We'd be dead now if it wasn't for you." Dingo's eyes spoke to the extent of his sincerity. "You might still be, even with my help," came Freyd's reply. He motioned upwards with his eyes, reminding the boy that time was of the essence.

They burst forth from the chapel doors, catching the shambling hordes off guard, making a bee line for the alley where they had first met. The main roads would be too open and see them swarmed and overwhelmed in short order. The rooftops were their best bet, but Freyd doubted that Quip had the presence of mind for that kind of travel at the moment. The alleys carried the risk that they might get cornered. The only option left to them was to go through the buildings themselves. A flurry of dashed and strikes caught the first batch of zombies off guard. Freyd slashed methodically. His strategy relied on efficiency of action, and the margins for error were very slim. "Keep moving!" he called back, hoping that Dingo was staying right behind him. He didn't have the luxury of watching them constantly. That part was on them to manage. "We're here. Don't worry." Dingo replied.

"We can't stay here forever." He'd held off saying it as long as he could, but night would fall if they waited much longer. Remaining in Valehaven after dark was tantamount to suicide. They needed to move. Quip was in very bad shape. Freyd was worried that she might be in the midst of a full meltdown, which wasn't something they could afford. "Can you get her out of here if I clear a path?" "Yes. I... think so." Dingo managed to get her arm over his shoulder and get her walking, but it was going to be slow. "Okay. We need to make this work." He glanced at Quip again, but her eyes weren't seeing anything at the moment. Her focus was inward only. The triptych began to reform on the altar, serving as a warning that their time was up. "Remember," Freyd repeated as firmly as he could. "Right behind me."

Freyd took a moment to check the altar where the triptych had been, but there was nothing left. It might as well have been an illusion. Maybe it was. There was something entirely appropriate about a such a deception being placed on this floor. The entire place reeked of despair. Sitting down on the white travertine steps of the dais, Freyd opted to give his two companions as much time as they needed. They could always leave without touching the triptych if the respawn timer ran out. He'd need to recover his energy anyway, if they hoped to fight their way past the diseased horde outside. Quip and Dingo would need their wits about them, or everyone would end up dead. "I'm so very sorry," was all he said, mostly because it seemed proper. Freyd couldn't actually empathize with the magnitude of their loss, and wasn't about to insult them by pretending to do so. The two 'kids' - they were probably the same age he was - simply held each other as their tears flowed.

A quick piercing thrust from Forgiven Disobedience was enough to end one of the two remaining guardians. But the last just started cackling at him. It was a bit unnerving, given the mob's predicament. "You think you have won? This prize is worthless, fools, and soon you shall joint our ranks." Turning, it smashed the triptych to pieces with its rusted blade. Behind him, Freyd heard Dingo's gasp and Quip's wail of shattered desperation. Their last hope was gone, and their sister forever lost with it. Freyd's white blade surged unexpectedly as their outpouring of emotion, glowing so brilliantly that it seemed to turn back the decay and malaise that afflicted this once-holy place. Choir song rang out as it arced downward to obliterate the last guardian. When the last of its shining motes fell, the ruin reasserted themselves along with the gloom. Turning his gaze to the siblings, all Freyd saw was utter misery.

Unfurling his hands, Freyd stared at them, with his fingers splayed wide. They still shook. He wasn't able to shake the deeply disturbing dread that had risen within him as his hands drew the figure of the boy he had once maimed. Twenty years, and the incident still haunted him. "Even here?!" He clenched his eyes tight, willing his fingers to obey his commands, but they clung to the revivified memory of the darkest day in his life. He needed something else to help him focus. Pursing his pale lips, he reached into his storage with purpose, summoning items he'd placed there without knowing why. A roar echoed from the cave - possibly drowning out a feminine scream - he couldn't quite tell. She'll be fine. She's more capable than she looks, or knows. Trust her to discover that. "Come on, Elora," he whispered to himself. "Slay this beast." Another canvas laid out before him, he set to work; as he did, the shaking stopped.

They recovered a bit faster than Freyd expected, especially with their bulky forms. Two were swiftly dispatched, but a third managed to nick him with its rusted blade while he worked to fend off his last companion. Quip - the stout warrior woman - looked like she was about to leap into the fray, but her slender brother held her shoulder, pleading her not to get herself killed. "He's right," Freyd added. "I'm fine and you won't be if you pull their aggro away. You look like you're geared for tanking, but this isn't the place to try it." The poor woman was clearly struggling against her instincts and a visible need to get her hands on the triptych as soon as possible. The clock was ticking, Freyd realized. Assuming this thing even did what they hoped, it looked like they were racing the clock against its eligibility. That explained a lot.

Freyd tossed the other stone in his hand, striking the worn, white marble upon which the triptych rested. Apparently, that was enough. Four ghostly images materialized around the central pedestal, they looked like ghostly versions of the angelic beings that might once have guarded such a place, but their visages twisted as they became solid. Four wretched knights, dressed very much in the style of medieval templars, revealed themselves fully an instant later. Their trap assumed that someone had foolishly touched the triptych, and so they were dumbfounded to find no one before them. Freyd rolled his eyes towards the ceiling at the predictability, then launched a barrage of slashes and thrusts that caught them completely off guard. The guardians stumbled back, all of them knocked to the ground by his unexpected attacks. Behind him, Quip and Dingo just looked at each other, wondering just who Quaestor had sent to rescue them.

"I'll be right here," he added, summoning his white blade and planting it firmly in the ground, halfway to the hilt. The force behind his thrust sent a gust outward that caused nearby trees to sway away from the impact and scattered birds into the sky amidst cacophonous twitter. Seating himself on a nearby rock he threaded his fingers together , planting his elbows on either knee, then resting his chin on his hands. His eyes closed and Elora saw the tension go out of his face and hands. "Just keep your wits about you and you'll be fine." His eyes remained closed but it was as if he could sense her presence by other means. "But, you can always call if you need me." His voice cracked awkwardly with the last statement. The perils of a youthful avatar, perhaps? She could see his fingers clench together. Something was gnawing at his still.

Freyd was happy to join in and help out. He was used to doing things on his own, and surprisingly capable around a kitchen. With his cowl down and gloves off, he actually seemed oddly normal. His features were plain, with pale skin and an unruly mop of brown hair draping down about his face. A small smile lingered as he watched and listened to the two women go about preparing their meal, contributing where and as he best could without getting in their way. That was Freyd in a nutshell: unobtrusive. He chimed into the conversation just enough to remain involved, but revealed very little about himself. While both women were very lovely, he still felt like he knew very little about either of them. Eruda's concern didn't escape him. At first, he thought that she had called his name and he started to respond, until realizing what she had actually said. "Who's Freya?" @Haine

Freyd's pace was brisk, and his strides long, as if he wanted to put as much distance between himself and his sketch as possible. He led them directly to the quest cave as swiftly as possible, turning his head only to take note of a small creek where he had once devastated a bunch of big stinky skunks while Assassin had the worst stretch of luck imaginable. Elora caught up while he was distracted by the memory. His mood was still unreadable, but it was clear that something had affected him beyond just frustration with artistic talent back at Hannah's grove. "It's up here, on the right. The cave is full of gems, but a guardian will spawn the moment you pull it from the cave wall. It's easy to defeat, but I suggest you take it on yourself." She needed the practice after the incident with the baby boars.

Freyd pretended to listen to Hannah, at first, but was soon afflicted with the same malaise that followed his father's droning lessons on art history and architecture. How many hours had he lost to being talked at in this manner? It was too mind-boggling to fathom. Grabbing a stick of charcoal from the assorted supplies at their disposal, he just started to draw, letting some mysterious muse guide his hands as he scribbled and marked at the canvas with increasing speed and vigor. A scowl appeared on his face, then his teeth clenched. Faster and faster he drew until the stick shattered, spraying a dark cloud all around him. Fingers still moving, he started smearing and smudging the chaotic mass of lines until the shaped of a figure emerged. Something snapped inside him at the sight of it. Freyd suddenly and violently thrust the canvas away from himself. His hands shook, and the edges of his eyes twitched as he gazed angrily at the frame, now laying face down ten feet away. Elora had never seen him so affected by anything. That it was triggered by something as benign as a sketch was more than bizarre. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily until he could steady himself again and calmly turning to her. "We should move on." His voice was devoid of emotion, like he had turned them off for fear of something abhorrent. Grabbing his things, he stood and headed off in the direction of the cave. His drawing was left behind, still laying facedown in the gently swaying grass.