Raidou

Relaxed [1/2] OOC HP/EN Regen It was riddling, the soft tapping of droplets from some condensation on the ceiling. Each small pounding reverberating for eons and shattered the silence, a glance to his inventory showed his gear was still holding up fine. To his sleeve, Raidou begins to dust some of the viscus mess that had taken root in past conflicts. "Stranger still, it seems so empty when your not in motion." he spoke, and the room seemed to mimic him. Squinting and picking up some of those feral looking things still gnawing away at bedding and scraps in the cell adjacent to where he ha

Thread Complete: 6719/30=223 Raidou: 10035*EXP ([5 * Tier 9] * 223) 1505*Col (10035*.15=1505) Astreya: 1115*EXP ([5 * Tier 1] * 223) 400*Col (400 Page)

8/23/21 Moved to Guild Vault

8/23/21 Roll: ID# CD: LD: Quality Count Experience Ambition Mod 1 198261 CD: 9 +1 LD: 3 Rare (1) 10 (+5 Ambition) 2 198262 CD: 3 +1 LD: 4 Uncommon (1) 8 (+5 Ambition)

Sliding the bag of coin into the cloaked figure's outstretched hand, before angrily ripping the aloft slip of paper from her. A bit of red smoke like vapor as he walks past, almost shoulder checking her as he does. "Pleasure doing business with you." Alexandria responds sarcastically as he blinds past, fiddling with the bag into a tie on her left hip. She catches a glimpse of someone watching, and gains a cocky smile on her lips. Catching a menu slam shut before she starts to look around. The most obvious stare at her surroundings, all that was missing was a nonchalant whistle to complete the

Approved, Enjoy your stay in Aincrad

A flare of power ripe in the steel still clutched in a black gloved hand, A vibrant and explosive yellow building in a rather small corridor. A wave of the thing sees it find purchase rather abruptly against an awaiting section of metal. A bolt of static leaps down the exposed bits, causing them to steam and rattle beneath the method of impact. Clattering to the floor with the respective magic dispersed quickly. "Destroyed" Raidou remarks eyeing the thing, using the toe of his boot to shift one of the pieces. He was checking for signs of life left behind, and it seemed as though it wasn't gett

Back through the forking passages, that bend and wind all the same in a network of branching passages that were akin to veins. The entire infrastructure seemed planned to confuse someone moving through it. It begged the question if mobs could even find their respective ways throughout the keep. Each was only about 5 to 7 ft in width, and given that none had notably distinguishable features beyond some remnants of what was left by creatures. Perhaps they were leaving these markers on purpose, with purpose. Kneeling low and looking carefully at some of what was left behind, for some symbolism or

It barrels toward him in a wave of black moss, fuzzy and attempting to wrap itself around its would be red clad victim. Raidou rebuttals with a vibrant flash, like a flash bang in a shot glass. Bits of the stuff explode out in all directions, splattering against walls and the ceiling alike. It would seem that it was just as hungry as anything else within here, and the nomad was a snack too delectable to ignore. The winding down of his steel as he stood in a ring left behind from the blast, pots and pans still rolling along the floor as bits of the thing rained down from being adhered to every

Yes

ID:198147 | Loot:17+6=23, Chest Room encounter The smell of salt comes next, playing a bit in the mold. Finding a location with an open doorway, Raidou looks on in the dim lighting. A few rusted and decayed pots and pans sit untouched upon burners and ovens. Cabinets hang limply and off kilter on the walls above, sinks filled with blackish masses that quiver softly under tapping bits of moisture that bleed from tarnished faucets. A kitchen, no less. Waving the stone that provided light about, seeing that signature white and black tile underfoot. A question of age, as he looked toward the

Feral barks as they discuss, sizing up the human that mimicked the ones that put them here. Moreover, watching an arm move to a weapon for self defense. Hunched backs become further bent as they rush him down, finding their way within his reach. A sudden tear of the weapon from its scabbard, a slide of his heel as his left shoulder twists into a twirl. The blade falls low before ripped in a horizontal swing toward the floor. A crash and a bolt of lightning, tempest, creating an earth shattering roar of released energy. Like a nova, a ring of the stuff jumps and discharges across the floor in a

Numerous tables, rounded and decayed. Old wood that seemed were threatening to buckle, chains held to the floor suggest they were meant for prisoners. A mess hall. The swordsman began to scan the perimeter of the place, looking any word or ledgers, something that would yield to what or who may have been contained within. But one slip of paper, held in a small stool and table off to the far right side, held beneath a small tankard of iron. Lifting it and shaking off the mildew that had built from it being used as a coaster for the cup. His eyes begin to scan the page feverishly, dancing across

The weapon burns hot, as Raidou dumps more and more energy into it. Like a wave of destruction, his form blinds through the lot of what was and still manifesting. A spray of data is seen spiraling out from this arc of power from a swordsman. The flash burns away revealing some floor beneath this writhing mass of flesh and tissue, the creatures scream out in agony that's cut short. Brandishing Auric Sunlight with a wave, discharging the lingering energy as the hammer falls. The blazing trail across the floor echoes with the falling edge, creating a sudden solar like flare behind him. His cloak

Stepping through the gunk that oozed out of these things, the brownish yellow mixture that still clung to the floor with a slosh. The glowstone still holding a soft glow in one hand, the blade one of a different hue in his right. They stood out in the corridor, given the lighting. As he pushed on, the halls seemed to take on a more fleshy style texture. The ground felt moist and soft like a tongue, some strange growth making appear like a mouth. It seems that the Iron keep held all sorts of monstrosities that hadn't been seen elsewhere. At least not yet. A sonar like pulse from Raidou sends ba

Bleeding like an open wound through nearly empty streets, the city of Taft seemed bordering on shutting down for the night. A ring of that bell upon a large tower that graced its center further clattered with noise, alluding to the beginning of another hour of twilight. Soft footsteps, an absent settlement and purpose. His destination? Obvious to those that frequented the floor. He was making his way to the gate, for the forest that this single boon broke apart. It seems in all this time, Raidou was waiting for something. Ushering open a menu, looking earnestly at the clock that adorned t

ID:198118 | Loot:3+6=9, Nothing Happens The wanderer was dead serious, he needed them to push themselves to the brink. He needed to study and know what it was they were able to do, and that would only happen should the AI feel desperate. They screech and scamper, twisting lines playing arms clambering and latching to walls. Sucking noises as they adhere to the dark brown brick, wrap around bars and use them like a wench to peel themselves up. The slight jerking continued, as these manifested horrors were still riddled with FTK's presence. Winding back as the first releases, bars and fires

The iron keep seemed to mirror itself, as everything appeared to be more of the same. It was almost perplexing that the floor plan seemed to repeat, and every step has Raidou checking his coordinates within the confines. It assured him he was in fresh territory, and yet the place looked copied from a hall before. "Unnecessarily large, curious in the construction. Just how many prisoners was this supposed to house?" the wanderer asked of the walls as he slowed his travel, scanning them for some distinguishing feature that proved it dissimilar. His mind raced to what sort could hold up in this p

His jaw clenches, the rumbling bones begin to take shape with more of those sickly twists. Incorrectly folded appendage and torsos being righted as they howled to destroy the warmth of life within their coven. That sound played upon the walls like a symphony. Raidou seemed unfazed, unconcerned, and as if he was ready to die. The patters of quick feet, as the jailors rush him down like feral hounds past any loose debris, sending it scattering in their frenzy. A high pitch whine of the blade still held in his hands, as he stood stalwart against a tide of undead cretins closed the gap. A lunge wi

A sickening snap, a twist of arms that held a frame like a spider to the ceiling. A hallowed bellow, a hiss toward the warm presence of blood that lingered in this undead sanctuary. Moreover, it didn't enjoy its discovery so quickly, this creature thrived on the element of surprise, and it had been robbed of such. Dislatching and colliding with the floor with no care to brace the fall. It twists its parts back into shape, each followed with snaps and breaks as joints reset. A twist of its head like a canine, bloody red eyes peer back with small black gloss before they flare like coals. A heavy

Renewed and better prepared, a soft glow of a small stone in his hands permeate his surroundings. The faint smell of mildew and the small chattering echoes that ring back from somewhere deeper within. The slithering masses that he'd faced before would be truly disheartened at an attempt against him again. Further, ready for their intervention, he was looking to explore this place much more thoroughly this time around. Each footfall echoes off the stonework, as a shift of a red robe bleeds past bar after bar. A painted tapestry akin to a prison, irons in both gates and chains that dangled from

As if time had no barring, as if he could never forget the single ring of a dusty shop that still lingered where it existed throughout this long frame of existence. Raidou ushers through the opening, reaching for his left shoulder and removing the piece from his shoulders. The only tailor he trusted to do the work was the creator herself, he had obtained it from her and likewise she would be the one to do the needed repairs to the object. To incorporate these small bits of fabric he had gained throughout his journey. Sliding an open left hand down the dusty counter before folding the robe

Good to Go

Ushering into the shop, looking toward the smith hard at work. The same signature sparks softly lighting the place with each blow. Drawing free a pair of blades, both still stunk of the raid. One dropped by the creature itself and the other was the one he wore. Looking toward Griswold and drawing his attention he places them both down with a handful of components. "To concrete my defiance, I will make his strength my own." Raidou murmurs beneath his breath, looking to Orgoth's Legacy and the Black Star. They would become his tried and true shield against the odds to protect others. Orgoth

The respective blow riddles the chamber with lightning and a boom that echoes off the walls like a chorus. A handful of soot finds its way free from the cracks in the cobbled brick, the force exerted held a presence on even them. A quick twist and return to a scabbard as the light of a destroyed mob paints his face in shadow, his cloak fluttering from the small detonation of its hide. Plucking a handful of pages, and ushering away from the enclosure. He sought out a single cage with a door still ajar, peeling the iron bars almost fully shut. A barrier between him and the disturbance that would