[SP-F1] Feeding the enemy

[Alkor 0]

The brokers basically threw away information on familiars now, given how commonplace they were among the Players of Aincrad. More people had them than didn't, and those who didn't were often extremely low in level or had some other reason for not undertaking the quest.

An old woman, a gypsy, randomly appears on the first floor and talks about taming monsters. Alkor saw the woman and listened to her words, saw the icon appear over her head, and nodded to himself. She seemed earnest enough and he could feel no malicious intent from her.

If she was somehow involved with familiars and how to tame them, that much made sense. "So, how do I it?" he asked finally, ready and eager to enhance his prowess and advance to greater heights.

Instead of an answer, the woman held out a small bag filled with... food? Alkor reached out to accept it. "May fortune shine on you," she told him as she turned and hobbled along the path. So, she would be around when he returned.

Alkor Level 33 670/670 HP 66/66 Energy

10 DMG | 48 MIT | 1 EVA | 1 ACC | 1 Blight | +3 LD

Blightsteel: T2 Demonic Curved Sword [Cursed | DMG | DMG | Blight]

Nightmare Bomber: T2 Perfect Light Armor [MIT | MIT | EVA]

Wayfinder: T1 Perfect Trinket
-- [ Loot Die III | +3 LD. ]

Rank 5 Curved Sword | Rank 3 Light Armor

Athletics Mod | Precision Mod

[Alkor 0]

As he stepped off the path and toward the forest, Alkor opened his inventory and began to select the items he'd gathered for this particular mission. Along with the Spyglass, he had a song that granted familiar sight and a bottle of pheromones that would hopefully assist him in attracting the attention of a familiar that could aid him in improving his deadly aim and soar him past the competition in damage output. He had a long way to go, perhaps, but if he worked hard here it would lay a solid foundation for future battles.

He wasn't sure what kind of creature he wanted to come to him. There were many thoughts because he had seen serpents, fish, dogs, all manner of pets that were strong indicators of the personalities of the Players that tamed them. Alkor didn't think he had that sort of profundity about him; but all the same, he wanted something that wouldn't encumber him, perhaps something even that others might not notice.

Unlike many of the people in Aincrad, he lacked that flair for grand entrances. Precision. Lethality. These were the only virtues that suited a swordmaster. 

[+5 LD | +1 CD / thread]

-5 posts to search for familiar.

 

 

Alkor uses the following items:

Spyglass ((2/3) uses) - Effect: Use to reduce the number of posts required to search for a dungeon or familiar by 5 posts. Effect lasts for one thread. Item is destroyed once all charges have been used.

The Stars Collide- (Pheromones) A small glass bottle of balm divided in half, one side jet black, the other a translucent white. Both of them are littered with tiny glitters of yellow. The paste fades away after a moment past application, but the stars remain to catch the intrigue of small creatures upon sight. Effect: When used during the <<Feeding your Enemy>> quest, gain +1 CD when attempting to tame a familiar. Effect lasts for one thread.

Spring (The Four Seasons)
T1 Perfect Support Song -- Familiar Sight
[reference] Flowers bloom in rolling fields of green; murmuring streams are softly caressed by the breezes. The birds celebrate the turn of the season with festive song. gain +2 LD when attempting to find a familiar. Effect lasts for one thread.

 

Edited September 3, 2020 by Alkor

[Alkor 0]

This part of the forest was new to him. 

When he was starting out on the first floor, everything seemed straightforward. As they advanced through Aincrad and new floors were made available, it was like certain aspects of the world changed, shifted,  and gave answer to their newfound strength.  Instead of a fight, however,  this forest seemed more like a maze. A puzzle to be slowly deciphered and put together as he made his way through.

At first, he thought that anyway. As the sunlight grew sparse and the canopy thicker, shadows danced across what few slivers of daylight broke through. It was as though the trees rattled, laughing, jeering him. Alkor watched warily. The item that the gypsy gave him was purported to bring out something suited to empower a Player, even unto the apex of their strength. It wouldn't do anything in half measures.

Or maybe that was part of the paranoia about it. The quest wasn't necessarily deterring at face value, but when you considered the difficulty, the greater chances of failure when compared with other quests, suddenly the act of simply finding a pet seemed hideously daunting.

Doubt.

A lack of direction.

Alkor became increasingly aware of his mental state.

[Alkor 0]

Around him, the branches seemed to undulate like tendrils. He wrote it off as the light and gentle breeze playing tricks on him, reinforced as he stepped close to one and it snapped under the pressure of his advance. If it had a will of its own, it would have resisted or attempted to restrain him. That was what the irrational terror creeping at the back of his mind wanted him to believe. It was upon realization that he imagined such a thing that Alkor stopped, sagged his shoulders, and inhaled deeply.

There were no monsters. Thus far, Aincrad had only forced him to face an unknown labyrinth and not a single trap. That fact was disarming, and it caused his subconscious to reflect on every other experience he'd had in this world and slowly superimpose every one of the worst case scenarios over reality."If there's anything I've learned, it's that if I don't fall or get stabbed, I dont need to worry about the threat of death," he told the world, though the message was intended for his own ears. "I've got this food," he held out his hand and the item materialized. "If something is out there, if this is what you're after, I'm right here. And I'm not running away."

He wore a look of determination now as he held the food steadily out and kept his eyes forward, not looking away from whatever challenge might appear to face him.

[Alkor 0]

He stood there in silence, only the wind for an answer. The food made no indication that anything was special about it, nor did anything immediately change. Alkor took a step forward as he dismissed the item,  satisfied that his mission was nothing so straightforward. The familiar was somewhere in this forest. He had to do something to trigger it revealing itself to him, or to prove he was worthy.

It was something straight out of Arthurian mythos from a purely objective stance. The hero is faced with a trial, be it wisdom or strength, courage or some other aspect of Knighthood, once the proctor or the medium judged them justly, they were granted status, power, or perhaps in this case,  a pet. That made his mind wander toward Griffins, Dragons, all sorts of more Anglo-Saxon traditions. But this game was made by the Japanese, and though it drew on some western elements, its lore tended to favor the traditions of its homeland.

He stopped allowing his mind to run away with him in that moment. Whether fear, uncertainty, or excitement, not operating within the boundaries of here and now served no one. He could not advance without clarity.

Somewhere close by, he heard the call of a bird and the wild flapping of wings.

[Alkor 0]

He dropped low when the sound came, crouched into a defensive stance that would allow him to move quickly or hit the deck if an attack came from above. Alkor instinctively reached for his blade, but stopped himself. If he went too quickly to his weapon, the innate trust he was supposed to found the link between Player and Familiar upon would be tarnished. He had to take this risk.

Alkor steadied himself and returned to looking around the dark copse of trees. After a moment, he realized that a path he had not seen before was now open ahead of him, as well as the one he had originally seen. There were more options but one had a faint light that made him think it lead back outside, away from the forest. The darker path seemed to entice him.

"I think that I'm supposed to go this way," he murmured aloud as he turned to walk toward the darkness, and it swallowed him whole.

[Alkor 0]

"Is anyone there?" he asked. When he heard his voice, it sounded distant, resounding, almost as though underwater. Alkor didn't feel like he'd submerged, and he could breathe as normal: so he understood the sensation to be one of sensory deprivation, wherein the space he had just entered engulfed everything and nullified it, creating a void that nothing could reach him through. If there was a feeling of loneliness beyond simply being alone, he was acutely aware of its existence in that instant. "Hello?"

The Black Swordsman reached out, fingers splayed as he fumbled through the web of darkness that ensnared him. It felt like walking through a membrane and coming out the other side. He saw his fingers now. They curled and tightened,  and it was like he was trying to take someone by the hand. No one made any attempt to return the gesture. 

"Its hard," a voice echoed in his mind. He heard in clearly, even clearer than his own. "Everyday, waking up feeling like you're wearing wearing someone else's skin." What the hell? "I'm not the person I want to be, but I'm trying."

Who are you?

"Am I so indistinguishable to you?" the voice responded. He almost felt the tilt to its head. The voice was inquisitive, thoughtful, but distant. "I wondered if you would ever grow, if you would ever change. Have you changed so much?"

Edited September 4, 2020 by Alkor

[Alkor 0]

He felt a hand gripping his own now, but there was nothing there.

It was odd. The hold was firm, and he returned it with an almost subconscious yield. When he willed himself to pull away, his arm refused to respond. "You don't understand what's happening, but that's nothing new," the voice told him. "You've always been afraid of what you don't know. What you can't know. That's why you never moved forward."

"I've never been afraid to act," Alkor found himself protesting. It made no sense.  This voice, detached and unfamiliar, could not possibly know him. Yet the way it spoke, it felt like it were thrusting needles into every weak point in his body, mind, and spirit. "My only fear has ever been that I'll make the wrong decision."

"So, your decision was to defeat that recalcitrant thinking by taking action without forethought?"

The sentence was simple, yet it was a dagger to the gut. His mouth opened, but words did not fall from it. Instead, blood welled up on his tongue. He could taste the metallic flavor, and as it spilled over the edges of his lips, the voice whispered in his ear. "That's vanity, not bravery. Foolishness, not valor. If you die like that, what do you leave behind?"

[Alkor 0]

In the instant before he collapsed, Alkor saw half of a face. The lips were flat, unsmiling. There was no visible emotion, no ill will. He could feel the wisdom in the words washing over him, cold but filled with truth. It was how he remembered wanting to be, back when he began in Aincrad. Honest, brutally so. Concerned, but to the point where his concern could be mistaken for criticism. The voice reminded him of his own harshness, and right as the darkness began to consume him, he recognized it.

"Y...you're..."

He felt warmth against his chest, stretching out into a bed of crimson. This couldn't be real: Players didn't bleed in Aincrad. There was no pain. Anything like that was a trick of his mind, the subconscious attempting to relay shock. He felt the tug on his arm pull him forward, then nothing. When he crashed against the floor, there was a loud splash. 

Alkor came up gasping for air. Had he really been underwater, or did something trick his mind into the belief that he had?

[Alkor 0]

When he opened his eyes, Alkor had been peacefully at rest on the forest floor. He saw no trace of the speaker with the detached voice, and there was no sign that he had been wounded. He reached down to touch the point of contact and when his hand came back dry, he allowed himself a sigh of relief.  "Well, I guess that means I've failed."

"So quick to assume." The face was gone, but he surely heard it. "You faced yourself and heard the truth. Instead of balking and refusing to accept it you recognized your failings. That means for the first trial, you passed."

"Passed?" he was skeptical, given no familiar had appeared and now he was doubly worried that he was going insane. "I don't see anything I can attempt to tame. In my book, that's a pretty lousy outcome."

No response came, and Alkor snorted. Well, at least I've stopped talking to myself. I'll have to keep looking. I wonder, though... why all that effort to make me look back at myself and ask questions? Was that some sort of test from the Familiar? And what the hell is up with that voice?

ID# 167175 results:

 Loot: 7 +5 = 13 fail

Edited September 4, 2020 by Alkor

[Alkor 0]

The voice had left, but for some reason, Alkor felt like a presence lingered nearby. He stopped himself from looking over his shoulder. If he let that fear win, he had learned nothing, and yet if he simply struck forward and cast that wariness aside, had he gained anything either? The words still remained, loudly, in his mind. The voice had told him that neither extreme was correct. But, could he find a healthy medium?

Was there a balance?

Fear was important. That was a lesson hard learned for Alkor, because when he was young he thought fear was an awful, terrible notion. He thought fear ravaged rationality and left a person exposed. As he grew, he understood that fear also intended to teach a person their limits. It existed to prevent them from doing things that were beyond them. Yet, it could become problematic if they began to extend that fear to other aspects of their life and use it as an excuse not to act.

What was fear, then, if neither good nor bad?

[Alkor 0]

"Necessary," the voice returned in the insant where he thought those words. He almost jumped out of his skin. "Like anything bred into your being over thousands of generations, it would have no place if it weren't somehow deeply ingrained in survival. Fear in an instinct. Fear tells you when you should not do something, or when it comes with great risk."

"But you said fear should not deter me from action." Alkor was confused now. He looked around forbthefor the source of the voice, but there was no one to be seen. "If its somehow linked to my natural compulsion to survive, should I not rationally cede to it?"

"Your psyche will always suggest that which is uncomfortable is to be feared. The same instincts surrounding love, happiness, and friendship govern the opposite spectrum of the drive. You want to surround yourself with things that feel good, and that promote health and prosperity. Anger, fear, hatred- those emotions help you to avoid things that can do you harm, or that want to do you harm."

"So, I can't always trust fear to guide me down the right path." Alkor stopped to consider this as the path widened, and he heard the distant sound of a flowing creek. That seemed like a good place to start looking. "Alright, that makes sense," he conceded."So, the body can tell me something is dangerous, but only I can decide whether or not the action is worth risking the consequence."

"It's not only your right to do so, but your imperative. That is how you move forward through life, and how you grow."

[Alkor 0]

How I grow.

Alkor knew he was alone again as the shadow of a bird overhead passed by. He glanced up, but the creature that had cast it was out of view, only a screaming caw as evidence it had ever existed at all. Was that a crow?

Ravens and crows in various mythology represented omens, wisdom, intelligence- and more often than not, they showed the way. Perhaps the game had sent him an indicator that he was headed in the right direction, subtle though it was.

He resolved to push forward in spite of the long journey away from the comfort of the first floor as he knew it, into the depths of a forest he confessed he wasn't sure ever existed before that moment. Alkor wasn't afraid, though. More curious than anything, the swordsman wanted to know the truth.

And he wanted to be stronger. As a person, as a Player, and as an individual.

Edited September 4, 2020 by Alkor

[Alkor 0]

When he passed over the stream, he ended up in an enclosed grove. All around him, tall trees reached for the azure sky, not a single cloud visible in the ring that surrounded him. Sunlight filtered down and filled out the grassy knoll, where every step he took left a small indent.

His were the only ones there, like no one and nothing else had ever found this place.  Somehow, he doubted that the meeting with the gypsy and the excursion with her pet food were simple tricks of his mind. He wanted to pull the label from his inventory and check the contents for LSD, but more believably, it was something in the programming of Sword Art Online itself.

The familiar quest was meant to give strength to the undertaking Player. It was intended to help them grow, and to match them as they expanded their horizons. Understandably, it would be flavored as some sort of rite of passage, or a trial as the strange voice had aptly called the first leg of the journey.

But the voice was not omnipresent.

At least, it did not seem to be. It only seemed to give him direction when he found himself lost or at a crossroads. Perhaps that was relevant, somehow, to what he was trying to accomplish?

[Alkor 0]

He rounded the area with his hand outstretched, and he felt the grainy, gnarled texture of each tree in turn. They were all similar, if perhaps not the same. Every so often, something that might have been a path peeked out at him through the gaps between each trunk, but he never opted for passage. Something about it seemed wrong, like the time wasn't right, or whatever the path was might simply present a distraction. 

The way forward should feel like a way forward, his mind somehow impossibly reasoned. It was the same for him as fear. The instinct told him something, whether it was to fail to act or to flee outright; but these paths, they offered not even a hint of inspiration. 

They were bland, dark, and without an air of discovery. When he looked into their vague darkness, only an inkwell of nothingness greeted him. There was no warmth, no light, and no sound. 

The way forward led him to an ending. That was one thing he was certain of. If he strayed even once, he could be lost in this forest forever. At that thought, he did feel the brush of fear against his cheek. They were the cold lips of a frosty lover, warding him against the chill of death.

He was beginning to understand. 

[Alkor 0]

He stopped short when a glint of light caught his eye. Alkor almost failed to recognize it, so small and only there a second before he passed by, but he took a step back and glanced between the trees. As he did, the light seemed to manifest, and he saw the faintest outline of a trail through the brush. It wasn't the path he had come from, he was certain of that. There was no sound of a stream, nor did any light filter in from above.

As he stepped onto the path and skillfully passed between trees, Alkor found himself flanked on all sides by trees grown so closely together they could have been knitted. Each step he took made the pathway feel tighter, as though it threatened to converge on him if he went any further. His heart beat faster as he improved his pace, but the wood seemed to surge faster and close like a fist around him. He dared not look back. Something told him if he did, he would be lost.

It was a strange thing, fear. There were times when it told him to stop. Then there were times like this, when it told him to keep going. He ran, seemingly forever as he reached out for the slim chance at freedom. His arm breached the goal, then his body; and in the last moments, he slammed into the forest floor as the path behind him was sewn shut, branches and vines barring the way.

"What the hell was that?"

[Alkor 0]

He didn't need the voice to recognize another test. In those moments, he felt fear; but it was different from the compulsion to remain idle. It was a drive to move forward, to not stop until he was safe. It was the first time he could truly separate that the notion was intended to preserve his life. No one had ever bothered to teach him about his feelings growing up. The only things he knew were the sensations that paired with the love and respect that the people raised him gave. Even that, at times, had come under scrutiny. 

Most people had at least something positive to associate with their problem solving skills. Thom had been given the option to run so many times, running was what he knew best. To flee, or to freeze up. Both things had happened many times, and he could remember the worst of them off the top of his head. Whether attempting to talk to someone under duress, or when faced with a charge of guilt- regardless of innocence or otherwise- he became petrified.

And when faced with death, only the realization that he would never get another chance drove him to action.

He had grown. It was small, perhaps, but he had gained a clarity that before Aincrad, he had never known. 

[Alkor 0]

He stood now in an open field, dead trees behind him where the forest ended. A smattering of similarly lifeless flora painted a picture of desolation, which was foreign to any account of the first floor he'd ever heard. Lush, full of creatures and not overtly dangerous were all well-used descriptors for the area.

What he saw now was akin to a ruin. It was unlike anything he had seen in Aincrad, and probably unlike anything he would see again. This experience had taught him about himself, but much like the Elvish labyrinth on the third floor, Alkor believed there was more it had to teach. These lessons were valuable, some in ways vastly different from others.

Patches of dried up grass crunched and crinkled underfoot as he pressed onward, unsure of where he was going, but equally uncertain about how he would get back. 

He would figure those things out as they came, he decided. There was no time to waste.

[Alkor 0]

Alkor delved further into the field, dried out patches of grass crackling and crunching underfoot. The sky had darkened significantly, he realized, and he wagered that it might break out into a storm at any time. He was quietly thankful when the most he got was a gentle droplet of rain here or there. It wasn't cold, just barely cooler than his flesh. The season hadn't grown quite so harsh as that.

"Always prepared for the worst," the voice reproached coyly.

"I get to be pleasantly surprised when I'm wrong," he replied with a shrug. 

"Certainly, its less rife with heartache, but are you enjoying it?" The boldness of the question took him off guard, but Alkor gave a deep, hearty laugh in response.

"You can be careful and still have fun." It seemed like the voice had written him off as overly serious, so this time, the shoe was on the other foot. He didn't pause to wait for a response, though. "I get it. You're concerned, and don't get me wrong, I appreciate that. But when it comes to me living my life, I think I've got some kind of handle on it. I might be a mess, but I've managed to live to 23. I think that, barring some kind of Aincradian plot twist, I'm gonna make it out of here just fine."

"And I think you might just be ready to back those words up," came the reply.

 

[Alkor 0]

The voice faded away again, only to be replaced by a flock of dark birds winging away. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the radiance of what quickly revealed itself to be a breathtaking sunset. The deep, vibrant orange was a fire that threatened to consume everything. As he looked on over the horizon, the land far below was swallowed up in that splendor, a magnificent monument to tragedy.

Something had happened there that Alkor could not, and might never comprehend. It left the pangs of some sentiment in his chest, struggling to know why he felt it while being wholly unable to process sensation at all. It was the end of a world, maybe not this world, but certainly something here had faded from memory.

Every memory except for his.

"This is fate," the unknown speaker returned after a long silence.

"Everything is desolate," Alkor murmured. "but its so beautiful."

"It takes a brave soul to stare down at that, understand what it is, and call it beautiful."

"Everything fades," the Swordsman crooned in a soft voice. He remembered that wisdom, shared with him by someone he held dear. "I wish every ending could be so beautiful."

 

ID# 167377 

 Loot: 4 <fail>

Edited September 5, 2020 by Alkor