Lessa

Friends BAHR Best friend. Red coat, god sword. Emperor of Tarot Hierarchy. Met him at the Monument. Then he almost killed me. Turned out okay though. [ journal ] ALKOR First person I met in Aincrad. Tall, dark, and edgy. Hermit of Tarot Hierarchy. Didn't actually die. Met him my first day here. We became friends, then we lost touch. [ journal ]

They walked across the tundra together, the Empress and the Gaijin Samurai. Of course, they had known each other far before such titles came into being, and Lessa found that fact oddly comforting. Equally comforting was the gentle, rolling way with which he told his tale. It was far from monotone, but it also avoided being loud overly expressive, either. Somewhere in between, she decided. This was not a parent telling a child a story. Rather, this was a friend confiding in a friend. A mentor teaching a pupil. And once he had concluded sharing his memory, Lessa found herself oddly disappointed

He was there, and the relief that exploded from her lips came on a hard sigh as her body crashed into his. Tremors racked through her, and though her legs went to jell-o, the snowy-haired swordsman supported her. Just as he always does. The hand he pressed to her neck was cool, a welcome relief to the hot sweat that had broken out over her flushed skin. She focused on it, and the force with which he possessively held her against him. She focused on the rapid-fire beat of his racing heart as she screwed her eyes closed. She focused on the familiar smell of him, and the sensation of his cot

The jingle of the bells at her door was something she hadn’t heard in a while. Even as the stranger stepped inside, Lessa stepped away from her forge and behind the counter. In that simple movement, she shifted from blacksmith to saleswoman. As she expected a mere traveler, she was startled when he requested her by name. ”I’m Lessa,” she answered with a grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” When the man explained his vision, Lessa nodded. “Sure, I can do that for you no problem. Just hang on one sec.” A couple minutes later, she returned with his sword. “It’s only a rare, but it shoul

She woke to a tongue on her face. "Stoppp," Lessa murmured groggily, though a small, coy smile curled across her chapped lips. If he wanted to wake her up with sloppy kisses, who was she to refuse? It was only when Bahr began to whimper in a strangely animalistic way that the woman finally blinked open her eyes. Even through the sleep gunk, she managed to make out the hairy face of, not Bahr, but Riker. Eyes like crushed stars bore into her, swirling with an oddly intense concern. With each heavy pant, he blasted her with hot breath and spittle. Disgust and disappointment crashed thr

Name: Black Bastion Your Profession: Blacksmith Your Rank: 6 ID: 188321 Roll: 11 Item Type: 2HSS Tier: 1 Quality: Rare Enhancements: ACC | ACC Description: A long two-handed black bladed sword with carvings in it. Post Link: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/4366-wild-rose-forge/page/6/?tab=comments#comment-639225

Lessa slipped into the shop, and closed the door as softly behind her as possible. On more than one occasion, she had barged into a shop while it's keeper and a customer were mid-conversation, and the jarring interruption had been both disruptive and embarrassing. As such, the woman had taken to entering stores a bit more discreetly, even if the shopkeep knew she was coming. This time, however, she found herself alone in the neat, tidy space. "Must have missed him," she whispered, taking a moment to sweep over the displays before venturing to the front desk. There, tucked away on a shelf, was

Rank 6 Lessa used Crafter's Respite (ID: 159187) acquired here. Craft Attempts: ID CD LD Mats Lost EXP Gained Result 188321 11 7 1 5 Rare 188322 11 7 1 5 Rare 188323 8 10 1 3 Uncommon 188324 9 11 1

A soft "oh" escaped Lessa as Baldur tugged her in for an unexpected hug. Why had the gesture surprised her so much? Baldur had been one of the first in Aincrad to embrace her, so it shouldn't startle her now. Still, given the years that had rolled out between them, she found herself endlessly wondering where she stood with him. Based on the hug, nothing had changed. Why did she feel the need to overanalyze where he was concerned? Why did her brain insist on sabotaging something so genuine and simple as their friendship? So the woman simply wrapped her arms around him and returned the hug.

His entrance was a dramatic one, even if he had not intended it that way. Something about Baldur simply commanded attention, and so simply showing up meant "making an entrance." In this instance, his blue and white haori seemed to simply materialize among the ever-shifting curtain of snow. Today, Mother Nature herself had contributed to his flashy arrival. Or, more appropriately, whoever had coded the weather on the fourth floor, had. Aincrad was tricky that way. When his greeting reached her, the blonde broke into a grin. "Ohayo yourself," she responded, expression and words warm enough

Current Level: 65 Current SP: 318 Link to SP Tracking: [link] Item Upgrades: 2.6 | PRE-CONVERSION 3.0 | UPGRADED ITEM #1 Item Name: Jigoku rÅzu [Hell Rose] Item ID: N/A Item Tier: T1 Item Type: 2HSS Item Rarity: Perfect Item Enhancements: DMG | DMG | DMG Description: A two handed Claymore with a razor like edge, it glows a red hue that imbues the wielder extra power. It was modeled after Joan of Arc and her blade except on a larger scale. I

NIGHT | Approved. Total EXP: 654250 Total SP: 210 Current Level: 31 Paragon Level: 57 Unlocked Paragon Rewards: Lv. 5 | Gain additional col equivalent to 10% of EXP earned in that thread. Lv. 10 | +3% EXP Gain. Lv. 25 | Gleaming Scale (3), Equipment Change Ticket (1), Free SP Reset (1) Lv. 50 | Custom Sword Art/Skill Creation. Notes: None

Character Name: Lessa Character Description: The main squeeze. Character Journal: [link] Character Name: Lilik Character Description: Resting bitch face. Character Journal: [link] Character Name: Rayleigh Character Description: Pretty directionless. Character Journal: [link] Character Name: Akaiko Character Description: Cinnamon roll. Character Journal: [link] Character Name: Gideon Character Description: Just here for a good time. Character Journal: [link] Character Name

You wake in your own bed. While it may be a bit hazy at first, the events of the previous evening come rushing back - either you were among those on the Frontlines, or you bore witness to the horror of a vast darkness, an unrelenting storm. In both cases, the last thing you remember is being swallowed up by shadows. Effect on Lore The World Aincrad has reverted back to optimal settings. Any damage caused by the storm's influence (in Storm of Shadows) has been corrected. All NPCs will recall the horrible storm, but they all remember survivin

[3.0] Quest/Floor/Lore FAQ To ease the transition from 2.6 to 3.0, all questions regarding quests, floor, or general lore will be handled here. Post your queries in this thread, and check the below list to see if an answer has already been provided. Q: I have a bunch of threads started before the 3.0 update! How long do I have to finish them? A: The big cut-off date for 2.6 threads is July 1st. All quests, raids, events, sub-dungeons, and grinding threads, must be completed by that date. Anything submitted after will only receive standard thread rewards (EXP and col for length).

Lessa made every effort to close the door quietly behind her. She wasn't entirely sure why, but something about the grand, dignified house required a certain level of respect and reverence. Still, the click of the latch bolt seemed to echo in the foyer. Wincing, the blonde slowly turned around. "Sorry," she whispered automatically, then nearly toppled over with surprise when she saw she was being watched. "I, uh- my bad. About the door, I mean." Thumb extended, she gestured over her shoulder toward the front door, which really hadn't been that loud in hindsight. It was all nerves. Why in

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It should be a crime to be that cute.

This journal is thrice approved.

#181735 LD: 5 There was nothing remarkable about Lessa’s death. She did not die saving a child, or pulling a helpless elder from the sea of darkness. Nor did she die on horseback, going out in a blaze of glory like the Valkyrie of old. No, Lessa met her maker in a far more mundane, far less glamorous way. She didn’t run fast enough. There was something oddly poetic about Lessa’s failure to outrun the rising tide. Alyssa had never been an exceptional runner (or real runner at all, if she were being honest with herself). She had liked jogging, but mostly the idea of it, and the

The young man's rousing speech rose above the storm, his pleas carrying to Lessa even as she made some of her own. "If you stop, the storm is going to get you," she informed an old woman, an NPC who had literally plopped down in the spongy grass to rest. The elder waved the player away with a dismissive tch, leaving Lessa both confused and agitated. Judging by the gold-armored player's words, he fought a similar battle, with the same results. How in the world could NPCs be encouraged to keep moving, when they were likely programmed not to? Lessa had never witnessed an event such as this,

Though she had visited the place numerous times, the site of the Flat caught Lessa by surprise. The grass rolled out before her, a long, dark carpet that disappeared into the strip of deciduous trees. How long would it take her to cross the field, now that she had room to move? Were she to urge the mare into a gallop, she could likely clear it in a matter of minutes, and then- Her trail of thought fell apart as she noticed the shift in energy. The mass of people had begun to slow, with both players and NPCs pausing to rest. “We can’t stop now,” the blonde murmured, though the storm tore t

"They're broke, so you can ride 'em, if you want." It was as if the old man had read her mind. Lessa had already been considering the logistics, studying the panicked animals in each flash of lightning overhead. When he gave his nod of approval, she eased one of the leads from his hand. "I'll take good care of her," she assured Dax, pausing long enough to pat the grief-stricken farmer on the shoulder before turning to his horse. The mare's nostrils flared madly, testing the air, and apparently not liking what he found there. "You," Lessa began, "are a big, big girl." Numb fingers has