Lessa

Lessa was insane. Certifiably, undeniably, insane. There was absolutely no reason for her to enter a PvP competition, and about a billion reasons for her not to, starting and ending with she hated PvP. Duels rarely, if ever, went in her favor, and they had wrecked more than their fair share of friendships. Back in the real world, Alyssa had thrived on the rush of competition, but that simply had not transferred into the death game. Here, she would much prefer to hold hands and sing Kumbaya with her opponents than try to shove swords through their guts. 

Opponents. Lessa's lips pulled back in a grimace as she risked a peek up at the waiting stage. At least it's a platform in the woods and not a damn Colosseum like the last one. Even if she'd been put down Gladiator-style, it hadn't felt good at the time. And once again, she found herself facing off against someone she knew well. For a game with thousands of people in it, she thought dryly, I sure do seem to bump into the same dozen over and over. Perhaps she didn't know Oscar as intimately as she'd known Alkor on the day of their duel, but she both liked and respected him. He'd seen her at her best, and her worst, more recently the latter. Banging her fists on the the locked doors of the The Crusty Bahrnacle. The orphanage. Then-

But it didn't matter. This was a friendly duel, not an introspection, and the joke was on her for constantly making these things into bigger deals than they needed to be. Wasn't that why she'd accepted the invitation to join the Clash of Blades, after saying no (forcefully, and with much head-shaking) over and over again? To prove to herself that the duel could be just that - a duel? A chance to hone her skills, gain some much-needed experience, and learn from those who knew more than she did? Wasn't that what it was all about?

So when the pretty brunette introduced her, Lessa pasted on a winning smile, and strode into the metaphorical spotlight. Her blonde hair swayed, her blue cloak billowed, and the sun glinted off the buckles on her numerous crisscrossing belts. She hooked her thumbs in them as leveled Minako with her most seductive smolder. "When you get tired of cute party tricks and the taste of wiener, you call me, okay?"

The smile remained in place as she turned to face Oscar, though it no longer reached her eyes. "I'm ready," she answered simply. "Are you?"

♬

Mod(s)/Addon(s)/Shift(s) Being Dropped: Barrier (6), Field Medic (6)
SP Incurred Towards Limit: 12 SP
SP Refunded: 12 SP
Cost: 12,000 Col

The explosion took Lessa right off her feet. She was entirely unprepared - they all were - and she'd have liked to say that she'd have kept her feet if she'd kept her guard up. But the truth was, the sheer force of the blast would have sent her sprawling no matter how she'd have braced herself. As she'd positioned herself between the wrecked building and the teleport gate, she immediately found herself adjacent to Ground Zero. What did that make her half of the square, littered with prone bodies and the shrieks of the panicked? Ground One? Ground Point-Five?

Despite years in Aincrad, her mind jumped to the most logical conclusion: a gas leak, a crashed semi, a terrorist attack. Only when she'd found her feet again, and shaken her head to chase the ringing from her ears, did she remember where she was. None of those explanations made any sense at all. So then why-?

"Move!" came a barked command from behind her. "What are you doing? We have to get out of here!"

"Ow! Watch it!"

"Don't push me!"

"You need to move!"

"I can't!"

Even as the woman turned to face the shouts, two other Players barreled into her from behind, nearly sending her toppling again. Annoyance burst across her face, but it was quickly replaced by realization. Then horror.

High-level threats closed in on all sides. There weren't enough capable Players to meet them. Nowhere to hide. No safe zones. Too many people. Far, far too many people.

With trembling hands, Lessa called up her HUD. She tore her teleportation crystals from her inventory, filling her arms before shoving them into bodies at random. "Take them!" she begged. "Take them and get out. Please, hurry!"

It was like bailing out a sinking ship with a teaspoon.

Hirru's voice lifted above the crashing thunder and the crashing bodies, tearing Lessa's gaze to his. "Right," she managed to answer, falling back on muscle memory to summon a party invite, fill it out, and shoot it to the appropriate Players.

Quote

@Baldur@Katoka@Wulfrin

Party Invitation?

O / X

"Get in the party," the Guardian cried, though she couldn't be sure anyone could hear her. "I'll buff you!"

Drawing her sword, she did so in a blast of brilliant blue light.

I'm here with the singular goal of making it further than Oscar.

More than anything, Lessa wanted to go. She wanted to give Eous her head, dig in her heels, and urge the mare into that gallop she knew she was capable of. She wanted to feel the thrill of it, as close to flying as she had ever been in her life. More, she wanted to close the distance to Oliver in as little time as possible. Already, her mind was conjuring the worst case scenarios, painting them in vivid color and detail across her vision whenever she closed her eyes. So she kept them open, choosing instead to focus on the path ahead, and the comforting rock of the horse beneath her. She wanted to go, and she had no doubt that Bahr shared the desire. But he did not share her experience in the saddle. For his sake, she kept the team to a comfortable jog. Not speedy, by any means, but it gave her more time to survey her surroundings and plan their approach.

"I definitely don't want to go with anything lethal," she answered him, as if it needed saying at all. "Obviously, that's not my first choice. If it comes to that, to save Oli, then I guess I-" Her voice trailed, and the woman seemed to fold in on herself. It was a momentary thing, lasting only a few heartbeats before she sat up a little straighter in the saddle. But her meaning was clear. I'll do what I have to do to save someone I love. If she knew Bahr the way she thought she did, the way she used to, then that didn't need saying, either.

"A stun Sword Art might still do too much damage, yeah." She nodded. "These are kids, and if they're anything like the people in Sanctuary, leveling up hasn't exactly been their priority. They could still be level one, for all we know. And if they're not wearing any armor, even a stun might drain their health. Same with paralyze, assuming we had any gear with paralyze on it." She chewed on her lip, clearly upset by the thought, and her apparent inability to find a work-around.

Then something tugged at the back of her mind - a distant memory of a damp cave, a flaming sword, and a doomed boy in a Blackfyre Cloak. 

"Zelrius," she stated suddenly. At Bahr's stare, Lessa hurried on. "Ages ago, a guy named Zelrius dumped a paralyze potion on me. It froze me in place, like completely, and I had to just stand there for who knows how long. If we had a bunch of those, we could use them." The light behind her blue eyes faded just as quickly as it had appeared. "But I haven't seen any of those in a long time. And we don't have any. We could go back and ask around, I guess." She faltered, then shook her head. "Actually, nevermind. I don't want to waste any more time."

The sudden clang of a bell sent both horses skittering to one side of the road. As Eous slammed into Aetheon, bumping like a pair of polo ponies, Lessa's right hand instinctively shot out for Bahr. "Whoa," she murmured, soothing them all as she reined in her mount. Only once the horses had stopped prancing in place did she release her hold on Bahr's arm. "Alright, all good. We're all good. Everyone's okay."

She shifted to run her palm along Eous' warm neck, stroking over and over even as she gazed out over the tree-line. "That was loud," she observed, "so it's gotta be close. And it's gotta be the sound that NPC was talking about." Sitting up again, the woman collected her reins and urged Eous back into that steady jog. "It definitely sounded like a church bell. I wonder if there's one out here that the NPCs don't even know about. Maybe it was built or used before their time? It's so hard to tell how much history the game developers gave these people."

The pair plunged into silence as they moved off of the main trail and in the direction of bell's toll. It wasn't wholly unpleasant, the horses' hooves thudding rhythmically as the gorgeous autumn-kissed trees grew more plentiful around them. But worry for Oliver kept Lessa from enjoying what would have otherwise been a lovely ride. When their path took them deeper into the woods, the rays of light that permeated the canopy danced across the grassy floor, speckles of light that shifted with the breeze. The trunks grew closer and closer together, the forest becoming so dense that the Lessa would have missed the small building if she hadn't been looking for it. Which explains why the NPCs have missed it all this time.

"There," she alerted Bahr, pointing with one hand as she directed her mount with the other. It was exactly what the words "small-town church" brought to mind. A rectangular building with a steep roof, fairly unimpressive, save for the little bell-tower perched on top. The wood was sun-bleached, vegetation climbed the exterior walls, and broken glass stood in one of the windows, strangely reminiscent of bared teeth. No one had occupied the space for a very long time. Or at least, that was what she would have believed, were it not for the figure standing in the open doorway.

Tall, willowy, and outfitted in a simple white dress, the girl exuded childhood innocence. In fact, she couldn't have been any older than Lessa's middle school students. But something in her smile made her appear far older.

"Brother Bahr! Sister Lessa! What a pleasure to see you again!"

Lessa's anger roared out of her, bellowing like an animal as the vines plucked Jomei off the ground. Her blood felt too hot in her veins, and a sudden need to claw at her skin overcame her. What was this feeling so sudden and new? Was it simply the frustration from the quest itself, and their terrible luck? Was it disappointment, and guilt from her own shortcomings? Was it panic, watching her friend get hauled into the air by the vines? Or was it just sheer, unadulterated fury at the goddamn fucking piece of shit Guardian?

In the end, it didn't really matter.

Roaring, Lessa threw herself between the dangling Jomei and the oncoming swarm of insect. She brought the blade to her chest, pouring all of the energy she had into the blade. Only once it burned blue with hot, volatile power did she turn her most powerful AoE Sword Art on the tiny threats. "Fuck you!" she howled as the attack absolutely annihilated everything in its path. Even the trees on the other side of the grove weren't spared, and the blast took huge chunks out of their trunks, branches, and leaves.

The Grove Guardian screamed in anger, but Lessa turned her back on him. With a quick, diagonal flick of her sword, she severed the vine's hold on Jomei's leg. She caught him on one shoulder, then without even stopping to set him down, she hauled him sack-of-potatoes style out of the grove. "Fuck this, I am done," she called out. "I am so fucking done."

Quest Abandoned

Thread Summary

10,010 words.
Both Players at T3.
(Sorry, this thread was started before we included stat blocks.)

(10010 / 10) * 3 * 0.7

Baldur
2,102 EXP & 200 col

Lessa
2,102 EXP & 200 col

He drinks a whiskey drink, he drinks a vodka drink,
he drinks a lager drink, he drinks a cider drink.
He sings the songs that remind him of the good times.
Ḥ̦̩͒̑̄ͥͩ͜e̵̲ͥ̈́̍͜_̵͓͇̺̬̤̥̽ͫ̅͐̄͒̈́ͣ́̇̔ͯ̄͢͞ s̴̸̷̶̛̼̺̙̗̤̯̟͇̮͖̟̱̟͕̬ͮ͗ͫ̔̓ͨͣ̈̄̌̆̽͐ͭ̀̔̑ͦͪͩ̆̀̿͆ͫ̚i̢͉͖͚̻̺̙͕͚͍̾͋̃͆͌̿n͑̿g̷͇͖̣̰͍̹̠͖͇͋̓ͨͮ̂̐̽̿̐̓ͧ͛ͥ_̫̗ͥ͡s̷̷̨̡̧̢͚̘̻̦͕̻̼̫̰͉̞̊ͫ̾̅ͪͣ́̃̈́̓ͪ̿͛̈́ͧ̃̀̀̐ͣ͘͠͝͡͞ t̷͚̼̻̙̭̰̻̣͚̬̘̅̔̄͂́̈̀ͬ̿ͬͣͣͯ͜͟h̶̥̑͑̐͢ę̷̛̠̼̦̪̰͙̼̪̫͂̿̿̔̄̌ͭͧ̾̀̎̒͗ͥͫ͗́̓̉ͥ̚̚͠͠ s̺͇̹̝̽̆ͭ̌̑͟_̧̮̥̬͉̀͗̿ơ̸̵̴̤̗̳̪̙̭͇̹̱̲̙̘̣ͯ͑̿̑̅̔̓̊̌̑́ͦ͑͘̚̚͟͟͠n̹̰̠͉̲̜͇̉̓̄̈̇̑ͪͥ͘͞ģ̰̻͎̣͔̖̰͚̇̒́ͯ̎͒̐̍͟͞ͅs͎̉ͬ̚͞ͅ ṭ͖͍̭̲̜͍̞̪͈͗̍͒͐ͨͭ͒ͮ́͆̋̄̚͜͞h̢̦̤͈̳͕̤̓̉̎͒ͧ́̎ͯͭ̓̚͢at̷̷ r̈͒̏em̵̶̮̫̜̪̝̙̟ͤ̅̃͊ͬ̀ͧ̆̅͢i͔n̵̶̵̢͈̰͙̗̫͕̯̠͚͓̺̼̮̦̮͓̦̟͙ͯ̌̈ͤͨ̓̊̏̾͜͟͝͡d͍̦͚͑̽ͥ̃ͤ͂̅͡_̸̵̸̶̨̤̟̫̫̠̯̦͎̪̜ͫ͒̏̈́ͮ̑ͤ͌ͯ̉ h̴̵̢̜͚̦̭̫͔̩̠͈͈̻͂̎ͨͮ́̑ͮͯ͐̋ͤ̚͢͝ĭ̧͓̻̤̦̭̝̫̓͌̆ͥͪ͗͘͢m̸̶̸̢͖̤̖̪̞̬̼̣͎̦̯̝̫̖̄͋̍ͯ̊͗̾̄̋̊ͮ̽̔ͨ̅ͫ͝͠͠ o̺̞̻̜ͩf̶̢̹͍̖͐̂͋͌̊͊͛͗̕͢ t̥͔̮ͧ̇̄̌͂͊͟h̶̤̣̘͎̹̙̯̰ͨͯ̈́̉͂́ͥ͒͊ͥ̒̉͠e̛͍̞̤̙̒̇͌̀ͨ͑̏̂ͩͅ b̸̶̴̶̢̨̟̝͖̞͍̘̺͎͔͙͔̮͉̠̠̯͚̯͑͒͌̏̅ͨ̆̈́ͨ͆̐͌̒͐̎ͦ͂͢͢͝ę̸̮̯̲͇̰̼̤̰̱̳̭̠͓̠̜̖͖͓͕̝̈̅ͩͧͯ̈̀̍͆͑ͯ͗̈͐ͧ̒̂ͯͫ̚͟͝͞͝ţ̴̛̛̬̜̫̣͔͎̱̻̩̳̥͈̜ͪͤ̓͑͛̒̌͌̀ͫ̏ͦ́͌́̈́ͣͮ͡͡͡ţ̷̨̘̖̲̺͙̙̍͒̀͗ͮͧ̕͞e̡̛̲̫͚ͮ̏ͧ͒r̺̦͎̜̭̳̽̽̀͋́̅̄̒̓̅ͪ̈́ͦ͝ ţ̡̪̩̹͕ͩ͛ͤ́_̧̖̳̯̹̖̑ͭͯͨ͌̊̌͘͜ͅ_̢̛̬͕̞͍̐̉̃͑̕ͅí̸̷̳̬͚̩̲̀͒ͬͯ̌͌͆͘m̨͕͉͖͎̊͢͢_ȅ̱͘s͞͡.̡̢̧̡̤͖͚̲̬̺̹̮̜̲̻̩̞̥̱̽͑̆ͤͩͫ̔̆̾͑ͭ̿ͫ̈͢͟͠͡

She had to go back.

It made no sense, and she would be the first to admit as much. Her brief moments within H.P's Tavern were nothing short of horrifying, and she doubted she would ever rid her mind of the scene that had played out there. As it was, when she closed her eyes, she watched the man strip the flesh from his body to reveal the monster inside. That was far, far from something that she hoped to relive. She hadn't been able to escape the building fast enough. And yet...

Lessa blew out a hard breath, dismissing her gauntlets long enough to rub madly at her face. She gave her cheeks a firm slap, as if the feel of it might snap her out of it, but all she got was a pretty nasty and borderline explicit splatting sound when her fingers met rain-slicked skin. Then she finger-combed her wet mop of hair from her face, wishing desperately for a hair-tie, before equipped her gauntlets again.

I gotta do it, she thought, even as she ground her teeth against the idea of it. There was something about that place, and that blinking quest marker, that dragged at her psyche like some Lovecraftian siren's song. And the more she considered ignoring it, the harder it became to do so.

Finally, she stalked back to where the Frontliners gathered by the Teleport Gate, her cloak flopping about her ankles like a blue, waterlogged surrender flag. She stopped directly behind Baldur. "Can I borrow you for a sec?" she said by way of greeting. Once he had turned, she offered him her best approximation of an upbeat smile. Might as well dive right in. "I know this makes no sense at all, but I really want to go back to that tavern we explored earlier. I feel like I need to. I saw something while we were in there that's driving me crazy, and I just need to check it out again, for my own sanity. When you're finished here, would you be up for going with me? I want to go see it, but I don't want to die in the process, you know? And - oh, hang on."

A sudden movement in her peripheral caught her attention - a familiar flash of ginger hair and an emerald cloak. She closed the distance between herself and Jomei in a few long strides, grabbing at his sleeve before he could move past her. "Hey, c'mere real quick." And then she was dragging him back to the spot where she'd left Baldur.

"Alright, now I've got you both," came her declaration once they formed a trio. "Here's the deal. Baldur and I found an abandoned tavern with a creepy monster thing in it. We took care of the thing-" she paused to slant a look toward Baldur, "-well, he did, with Acanthus. I didn't do anything. But anyway, I saw a quest marker while I was in there, just hovering over the empty bar. And for whatever reason, I can't stop thinking about it. I really want to go back and check it out, because it feels important." She shook her head, blonde hair spattering both men with droplets, but it wasn't as if they weren't already wet. "It's stupid, I know, but I'm going insane. Would you guys go back with me real quick, just to get a closer look? I don't think it'll take long."

Quest Info

Lessa swept her arm across her midsection, then hinged forward at the waist, presenting Jomei with her most regal bow. She didn't straighten before speaking, instead peering up at the man from beneath her blonde bangs. "For you, I shall fight a Grove Guardian any day." Only then did she stand up again, plucking the flower from his pinched fingers with a flourish, and sending it shattering into shimmering fractals. 

"One left," she announced, though she highly doubted Jomei had lost count. They were so close to the end, and she could practically taste the victory, as sweet as the grape pop she'd just chugged. "The Guardian does seem at least a little tamer this go-around, so maybe it's a timed deal? The quicker we find the flowers, the better off we are?" She pursed her lips in thought, then shrugged. "Or maybe the Guardian's just being lazy."

She opened her mouth as if to say more, then her expression pinched with concern. "Hey," she began, the word delivered at half the volume she'd been using before. "Do you, uh, hear something?"

And there it was - that overpowering buzz that could only mean one thing. Lessa snapped to attention, tearing the blade back out of its hilt as she turned to face the oncoming swarm. As if she could somehow hack away at the little threats before they reached her. Yeah, sure. Maybe if I had half a dozen more swords.

With visions of General Grievous dancing through her head, Lessa lunged at the approaching enemies - only to be yanked backward. In her hurry to intercept the insects, she hadn't noticed the vine snaking around her ankle. It ripped her off her feet, then yanked her into the air like a fish on a line. The way she squirmed as the bugs fell upon her was also pretty good approximation of a caught trout.

"Spoke too soon," she wailed. "Spoke. Too. Soon."

ID 240218 | LD 8 + 3 | CD 4 | MD 7

4/5 Flowers Found
52/50 Guardian Tolerance

Lessa | 720/820
Jomei | 840/940 HP

At Baldur's Star Wars reference, Lessa choked out a laugh. "Ah yes," she answered, nodding sagely. "You and Yoda do have so much in common."

She fell silent again as Baldur began addressing Acanthus' question. While the King in Yellow rang a distant bell in her memory, there was no way that she could confidently answer the query herself. That was unusual for Lessa, self-proclaimed know-it-all, but she was grateful yet-again to have Baldur at her side. This time, she appreciated his ability to fill in her gaps.

"I know next to nothing about Lovecraft," she mused aloud once the samurai had concluded. "I mean, I know that it involves big, scary monster types. Super spooky. Lots of tentacles." She pressed the back of one gauntleted hand to her chin and wiggled her fingers in a vaguely Cthulhu-esque gesture. "But that's about the extent of it." She let her hand fall back to her side. "I do know horror, though. And I know how unforgiving Aincrad can be. So I know that this is probably going to be one of those floors that we have to take seriously. Especially with the lack of safe zones."

The trio trudged on, the endless thrum of the rain and occasional crack of thunder the only sounds between them. It wasn't until Baldur spoke that Lessa's eyes snapped up from her muddy boots. She followed his gaze, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, it kind of does. I figure if there are any NPCs here, they're going to be hiding from this horrible weather."

Her preliminary sweep of the area stopped on a lean-to attached to the side of the building. It looked large enough to hold a few horses, and maybe a side entrance. In typical Lessa fashion, she pointed toward the possibility of seeing horses. "I'll go around back, see if there's anyone over there. Meet you guys inside?" Without waiting for an answer, she jogged off. She would still be within shouting distance of her companions, so she didn't expect to get into much trouble. Besides, though she couldn't quite explain it, she felt the complete lack of life within HP's. Within the whole floor, if she were being honest with herself. Her surroundings just felt strangely empty. And she didn't want to dwell on how unsettling that was.

But there was nothing to find, aside from more mud. By the time Lessa had looped back around and entered through the front door, she had (blessedly) missed most of the monologuing. She wasn't lucky enough, however, to miss the abomination that clawed itself out of the man's body. For the first time since setting foot on Floor 29, true horror and hot bile climbed Lessa's throat. If she hadn't forced it back down, she'd have lost her raid consumables all over HP's abandoned tavern. Even as she fought back a second wave of nausea, Acanthus and Baldur made quick work of the creature.

"Thanks," she breathed, stepping aside to let the two Players exit before her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the blinking quest indicator. She would come back for it. Or maybe she wouldn't. That scene had been something straight out of an Alien movie, and she wasn't in a huge hurry to witness it again. Sigourney Weaver, she most certainly was not.

"Definitely strange," Lessa confirmed, jogging up behind her two companions as they made their way back to the square. "I've seen some weird stuff on lower floors, but this is just... on a whole different level. Was that supposed to be an NPC? Did it ever have an NPC indicator? Or was it just a mob all along?" She heaved a shrug beneath her heavy armor, as if in answer to the questions she herself posed. "I just don't get any of this. But I agree, crowd control is a priority right now."

As Baldur peeled off, Lessa turned to Acanthus. "Sorry," she began suddenly, extending a hand to the other woman. It was rain-soaked, as was the rest of her, but she'd gotten used to it over the past half hour. "I realized I never introduced myself. I'm Lessa. Thanks again for having my back back there."

It was such a pleasure watching Eruda's entire demeanor change as she spoke of Raidou. Everything about her seemed to soften somehow, becoming more pliable, more vulnerable. It was a good look on her, and one that Lessa could recognize anywhere. She'd felt it herself more than once. Her own expression softened as she said, "I can tell he means a lot to you. It's really, really nice that you have someone so important to you in Aincrad. Not everyone can say the same." She tilted her head conspiratorially, then added, "Does he know how you feel?" She paused to reach back in her memories, grasping for Raidou's mentions of a special someone. He'd skirted the topic at one point, but it had been a while ago, and Lessa couldn't seem to remember the details. "I don't know if he's with anyone. If he is, I haven't met them. But I am a big fan of getting your feelings out in the open, if you're able. It'll help with miscommunications down the road." She visibly winced. "Ask me how I know."

When Cal set another pop in front of her, Lessa simply flashed him a sunny smile and a quick wave of thanks. She didn't want to interrupt Eruda's train of thought. Only when the woman had come to a natural break did Lessa jump back in. "I think you're on to something with the bit about only changing thing so much. There's definitely a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation here. Spend your time on the Frontlines? You risk everything, including your own life, and the possibility of seeing people you love fall. Dedicate your life to helping the lower levels? They might die in the process. Look out for the NPCs? Well, are they really safe, either? And if you're not helping the efforts of the Frontliners, there's that weird feeling of guilt that just lingers. Because shouldn't you be helping free everyone? Why should the Frontliners face their own mortality while you sit on your ass?" With a wry smile, she concluded with, "Again, ask me how I know."

Lessa paused to sip from her pop, then nodded. "That sounds really hard, and I'm sorry you had to go through that, especially at a young age. That's the sort of thing no kid should have to deal with. It's great that you guys reconnected though, and that it sounds like the relationship is at least better than it was. It's always so interesting finding those little silver linings in a place like Aincrad. It sucks sideways, but occasionally, there's this glimmer of something good coming from it."

After years trapped within Aincrad, Lessa considered herself strong enough to counter many attacks. She could, and had, withstand a swipe from a Floor Boss. She could hold her own in a duel, even with Players she considered to be of superior skill. She could stand firm against twisted cults, mistreatment of Aincrad's youngest, and injustices of all types. She could weather emotional manipulation, loss, and disappointment, again and again and again. But one thing she proved powerless against?

Baldur's smile.

His expression of pure, unbridled joy coaxed a smile of her own, even though the words she spoke dripped with a bittersweet self-awareness. "When we found each other, I was in a really weird place. I was constantly comparing myself to others. I was falling behind the other Frontliners, my gear was outdated, and I wasn't spending nearly enough time in my shop. I wasn't exploring new floors, tackling new quests, or even grinding for consumables that I knew would be important one day. I had a handful of col left, and no real idea of what I wanted to do." Her gloved hands clenched and unclenched restlessly at her sides for a few seconds as she gazed out over the frozen lake. Then she scoffed. "Watching two men leave me for the same woman did nothing for my self esteem, either, and that's the truth."

She tipped her head back, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face. "But you didn't know any of that when you met me. You didn't see any of that in me. You didn't see me as the fallen Frontliner, or the second choice, or the Blacksmith who just didn't give a shit about her daily crafts." She let her head fall to the side so she could eye Baldur mischievously. "All you saw, once you looked past the tip of my blade, was someone who could help you. You saw a leader. And maybe I was that leader, even back then. Or I grew into it, with your guidance. And your faith in me. Who knows for sure." She loosed a quick shrug, then continued. "But you saw me. And I saw you. And we've only ever asked that of each other, even after all these years. No expectations. No ultimatums. Just quiet acceptance. And support. And love. And I'm beyond grateful for that."

She slid her arm through his and gently tugged him back the way they'd come. "If there's a way to ride in the snow, you can bet your ass I'm going to find it."

As Callisto exploded into shimmering fragments, Lessa felt Jomei's eyes on her. She shifted to meet his gaze, and expected to see joy or relief inside them. Instead, it was a strange sort of panic that swam in the green depths. Her grin dropped even faster than the massive bear had. She took a step toward him, hand outstretched and lips parted, both to offer comfort. When the tall, charismatic, stalwart tank crouched, wrapping his arms around his legs, she hesitated. That wasn't the body language of a man wanting comfort. Needing it, maybe. But not wanting it. So she simply walked by him, fingertips trailing gently over his shoulder as she passed. If he felt it through the haze of emotion, at least he would know he was not alone. And she kept a careful eye on him as she made her way toward the open door. Only when he'd found his feet again did she finally cross through-

- and into the pouring rain. Despite everything, the smile returned. "Ahhh, the rain," she sighed contentedly to no one in particular. "I love the rain." The thunder that rumbled overhead seemed to hum in her chest, and a little shiver of pleasure went through her. "I love storms, too."

Noticing that the Frontliners had slowed their pace, the blonde peeled off to peer around the small crowd. She expected to see a standard fantasy town, its occupants tucked up inside around a warm fire. Or maybe a more modern setting, with shoppers running to and fro, umbrellas held aloft to protect against the elements. When she found none of those things, some of the joy gave way to confusion. "That's weird," she muttered. Jogging up to the nearest building, Lessa lifted a gauntled-clad hand to knock on the wood. After only the first strike, it swung open, hinges protesting loudly. "Hello?" came Lessa's hesitant call, before she took three short steps inside. She had found a small apothecary shop, from the look of it. Pretty bottles that once surely shone in the sunlight, dulled by a layer of grime. Some had tipped, now laying on their sides, while their companions had long-since crashed to the ground. Though the faintest scent of dried herbs hung in the air, the look of the place gave the distinct impression it had been abandoned many years before.

No NPCs, Lessa mused as she walked back toward the gathered Frontliners. And if her HUD was to be believed, no safe zones, either. She wasn't sure which one unnerved her most.

The group suddenly split like balls scattered by a cue shot, and unsure of where to go, Lessa claimed a spot on the nearest team. "I actually love horror," she informed Baldur as she moved up behind her old friend. She fell into step beside him, then added, "I've seen Cloverfield probably half a dozen times, so I'm something of an expert." She stared up at the enormous creature silhouetted by the flashing lightning. This time when she shuddered, it wasn't from excitement. But she shoved it back, and offered the samurai her biggest smile; the rain streaking down her face and into her eyes didn't help the sunny expression. "Besides, someone of your advanced age shouldn't be going anywhere without at least two chaperones. What happens if you fall and can't get up?"

Lessa stood behind her party, her gaze flitting between the five health bars that hovered above their heads. All green. All full. All safe. There was satisfaction in that - a job well-done. She had succeeded in keeping her team alive, as was the task given to her when she accepted the role of support. But more than that, there was a comfort in those green bars. A knowing that her friends, the people she loved most, were okay. That they'd all walk out of there together. That the future still held too many unknowns, but this day, this fight, they would see the end of. No one would die today. Tomorrow, maybe. But not today.

The white-haired enigma with the French accent and the scythe, who fought like the devil for teammates she hardly knew.

The beautiful storm, her guildmate, whose grace and skill with the katana left echoes of her mentor's careful teaching.

The ray of light clad in emerald, with hair like fire and a heart that burned even hotter, who she was blessed to call her best friend.

The dark horse, steeped in shadow and uncertainty, who had nearly met his end right before her eyes.

And the man who had held the sword. The man who had held everything, once. Been everything, once.

She loved them. She would protect them. They would leave this place unscathed.

With a final slash of her sword, she replaced Jomei's single missing hit point.

♫

"What."

She said nothing more as Lessa watched Freyd return from the dead, though her lips moved soundlessly on words she couldn't find. Shock had melded into such a powerful grief that this sudden pivot made her a bit nauseous. Apparently unable to settle on an appropriate emotion, her body chose to shut down completely, her arms limp, her blue eyes wide and glazed over. If everyone quieted down, they could likely hear the dialup tone drifting from somewhere between Lessa's ears.

It was Jomei's shout that she latched onto first, borrowing his courage just as readily as she might have taken an outstretched hand. He cried out his defiance, and she let it fall over her like a cold rain. It soothed. It refreshed. Then it invigorated.

"Goddamn," Lessa huffed, hefting Arcael's Might like a batter approaching the plate. "This fight is flipping through the feelings faster than my middle school diary." Then she swung the blade toward Arabelle, hitting the young woman with what was likely her last energy boost of the battle. "Let's kill this ass and go get a drink."

♫

Lessa turned to follow Bahr’s finger, and the color seeped from her face once more. “Oh my god,” she breathed, but the sound was lost to the chorus of raised voices surrounding her. Grief, rage, and a pain she could feel in her head and in her heart filled the space. When Lessa went to draw a breath, she couldn’t seem to fill her lungs.

Cord’s advice found her first, but Lessa couldn’t blame Jomei when he turned to address the party. Though his words were rigid, the emotion in his eyes burned hot and wild. She couldn’t blame him for that, either.

She hadn’t known Freyd well. In fact, the couple of interactions that they’d had had been somewhat unpleasant. But he was a Frontliner. He was just like her, willing to put his life on the line to escape their floating prison. And this time, he’d paid that ultimate price. Nothing could change that.

“Go get’m,” Lessa whispered, lifting her sword to boost her party’s damage as tears pricked the back of her eyes.

♫

4 minutes ago, Freyd said:

Ownership transferred to @Elora

Approved.

In a tangle of limbs and fabric, Lessa flung herself at Bahr and Jomei as the pair moved away from Callisto. Her cheeks, normally flushed a pretty pink, were sheet white. “You’re okay,” she managed, trembling fingers digging into the sleeves of both men as if to tether herself to them. “You’re both okay. Okay. Good.” She laughed out a hard breath, as if to shrug off the fear that squeezed her heart, but it came out borderline manic.

Drawing back a step, her eyes swept over both men. Jomei’s healthbar had dipped lower than she’d liked, but otherwise, they seemed to have made it out unscathed. It could have been so much worse. “That was scary,” Lessa rambled on, panting a bit as she gazed over her shoulder at Callisto. “Really really scary. Fuck.” Finally releasing her hold on them, Lessa pressed her hands to her face. The gauntlets made the action a bit awkward, but the cool metal plates felt good against her face; the color was quickly rushing back.

“Thank you,” she said from behind her hands. When they fell away again, she met and held Bahr’s mismatched gaze. ”Seriously. I’m not sure I could have moved that fast. And - yeah. I don’t know what might have happened.”

She swallowed around a lump in her throat before shifting her attention to Jomei. “Alright, you. C’mere.” Lifting her sword to fill the space between them, Lessa drew power from her core, and sent it slipping down the blade. Gentle blue light splashed across the Irishman, a cooling sensation followed by a significant uptick in his health. “That’s better.”

♫

A curse fell from chapped lips as Lessa watched Callisto rake at Jomei’s midsection once more. A quick glance at his health bar revealed he didn’t take too much damage - certainly not as much as he might have without his new tank build. But that didn’t stop the wince as she watched her friend stumble backward. "Be careful!" she called out for what felt like the millionth time since the fight began. She had to trust that he’d be fine - he was their tank, afterall. But that didn’t keep her from worrying.

Her attention was quickly drawn away as vines thrust upward from the ground. As visions of Graboids danced in her head, Lessa flopped like a fish on a line. “Get off,” she ground out through gritted teeth, arching her back as she clawed at the binds around her chest. Amid her struggling, she looked over to see that the rest of her party - the rest of the raid, actually - had met the same fate.

At Jomei’s comment, Lessa grimaced. “Yuuup,” she drawled. “These content creators really know how to drive me up a wall.”

The faint smell of smoke rose above the stench of death, shifting Lessa’s gaze once more. She blinked owlishly as the vines disintegrated beneath Bahr’s gentle touch, and gave a low whistle as her own fell away. “Nicely done,” she commented, giving a little shake as if to rid herself of lingering holds.

She scooped up her weapon, which she’d dropped when she’d been ensnared, and leveled it at Arabelle. “Another top off,” she informed the other woman, before forcing power through the blade. With it, her party mate’s energy jumped up to a more reasonable level.

♫

Lessa let her head roll back, eyes closing as the music once more washed over her. It crashed like wave, sound and emotion drenching her as it pressed against and through. Despite everything - the injuries, the stakes, the smell of death hanging heavy in the air - the woman paused to appreciate the magic of the bow skipping along the strings. “Goddamn,” she finally moaned, her soul returning to her body through a force of will. “You are really good at that, Jom.”

The notes hummed through her, buzzing like electricity along a hot wire. She felt a sudden need to just go. To act, to deal damage, to plunge her sword into the bear’s decaying flesh. She had yet to dish out any pain of her own, and the urge to do commanded her attention.  Her hand tightened around her sword’s handle, and before she knew what was happening, she’d taken two long stride forward. Was it something in Jomei’s music? Or simply the product of full energy reserves?

I’m a support now, she chided herself. I don’t do the hitting anymore. I make sure the rest of my team can keep hitting, and safely. But she didn’t step back. Instead, she turned on her waiting partymates, flicking her sword once more in their direction. This time, as the blue sparks rained down on the Players, they seemed to sizzle vibrantly against the dark of the boss room.

“I don’t get to hit that asshole,” Lessa announced, “so go get him for me.”

When her sweeping gaze came to rest on Jomei’s, she met his smile with one of her own. She had fought alongside so many different tanks over the years, so she knew the enormous pressure they were under. She recognized the insane gambles they took with every hit, and the incredible amount of bravery required to catch and keep the boss’ attention. And she knew, without a single doubt, that she trusted Jomei with her life. “I know,” she mouthed back, and meant it.
 

♫

Lessa gasped as Jomei stumbled, and her heart leapt into her throat. The sight made her sick, but apparently not as sick as he was. She winced as her tank lost his lunch, and her desire to help him warred with her need to give him space. She knew from experience that having someone invade your space while you were hurling wasn’t exactly pleasant. What was she going to do, hold his hair?

Instead, she called up her HUD, and drew out another antidote. Those around her were topping off their protection against the vile creature’s influence, so she might as well do the same. She consumed it in one fluid, practiced motion. Then, as the container burst into pixels in her hands, she surveyed the party once more. Jomei, understandably, was down for the count. That meant Bahr would likely be stepping up.

Her heart remained in her throat, it seemed, as she struggled a bit to form the words when she said softly, “Hey Bahr, be careful, okay?”

♫

"Shit," was all Lessa could manage as Callisto raked his claws across the party. Then her vision suddenly blurred, her head ringing so violently that she nearly fell to her knees. As it was, her empty hand slapped over her ear, her shoulders scrunching in an attempt to shield the other. Fortunately, as soon as the madness had come, it disappeared. The antidote, it seemed, was doing its job. She staggered for a moment, struggling to get her (hah) bearings. Once she had, her first priority was checking on the status of her people. Each had health bars skirting the fine line between green and yellow, and though that was far better than crimson, it made her wildly uncomfortable. 

At Jomei's declaration, the woman nodded. "Agreed," she called back, giving her shoulders a quick shake, as if to rid her body of the lingering madness. I do not want to open myself up to that, she found herself thinking, and made a mental note to up her antidote again as soon as there was a break in the action. But for now, she had to focus on getting her party back to full health.

"Time for me to do that support stuff then, huh?" she mused aloud, flicking her blade in a quick, experimental figure-eight. She had the skill now, thanks to a complete rework before entering the dungeon, but she still wasn't entirely sure how it worked. More trial by fire, then.

But it wasn't fire that Lessa channeled as she summoned her will once more. Instead, she thought of cool soothing water. Historically, water had held soothing and cleansing properties for most every culture that she could think of. Plus, if it worked for Katara, it could probably work for her. Lessa swept her sword in a wide arc, scattering blue light water droplets that shimmered like diamonds across her friends. Both splashed across the gathered players, though they were merely an illusion, and left no trace as they faded from existence. With a hard sigh of relief, Lessa watched the health bars race back to an acceptable place. "That wasn't so bad," she murmured, mostly to herself.

Oscar's voice drew her attention, and after a final check of her party's HPs, she ran to him. "I'm starting to feel like Oprah," she commented, though she smiled as she fished a third consumable from her inventory and passed it over to her friend. Then she executed a snappy two-fingered salute and jogged back to her team in a clink of armor and swoop of blonde hair.

♫

The Guardian breathed a sigh of relief as her party escaped the first attack unscathed. The creature clearly possessed enormous strength and power, and the Frontliners would do well to respect it. So to avoid taking damage in the first rotation was a true miracle. Lessa flashed Jomei a grin, then winked, and said, "Guess you're not half bad at this tanking gig, huh?"

Her gaze flicked across the other parties, curious how well they fared, and her blood froze in her veins. She watched Callisto give Alkor's body a shake, her oldest friend clamped tightly between the beast's rotting jaws. Lessa felt her own chest constrict, as surely as if she herself were being chomped on. "Nooo," came her soft exhalation, but it came out more like a strangled garble. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword, and blind panic pressed in on all sides. She teetered on the edge, prepared to give in, and let her body move of its own accord. She would throw herself at the bear, blade gleaming, and... and...

Probably die in the process.

Control yourself, a distant part of her chided. Alkor's fine - look at his health bar. He's not dead. It's not like last time.

It's not like last time.

Her grip on her sword loosened.

Instead, she leaned into her rationale side, summoning her HUD with her empty hand. She withdrew a mass healing crystal, then jogged closer to Alkor's party. The urge to touch him swamped her, and though she wanted desperately to assure herself that he was still alive, still whole, Alkor didn't appreciate physical contact on a good day. In the middle of a boss raid, after yeeting himself from a bear's mouth, probably wasn't any better a time for touchy-feelies. So she tore her eyes from him and focused on his healer.

"Here, Astralin," she called out, lobbing the crystal toward the young woman. "Keep an extra, just in case." Then, softer, she added, "Please."

Once her gift had been received, she returned to her waiting party, and gave them each a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm going to boost your damage output this time," she informed them before hefting her sword into the air. She swung it in an arc, showering each player with blue sparks. "Let's not take any unnecessary risks."

♫

The mass streamed through the door like water through a spillway, and as Lessa watched, the crowd grew smaller. She watched NIGHT, her guildmate and good friend, as she led the way into the room. Baldur followed, his long hair swinging as he turned away from her. Then there was Alkor, walking alongside Oscar, and the woman felt her palms growing damp within her gauntlets. Once upon a time, Alkor had walked into a boss fight much like this one, and hadn’t walked out again. Lessa pursed her lips, drawing a long, deep breath, before slowly exhaling again. She turned to her party.

Jomei, his red hair windswept, his olive eyes wide and lit with wildfire. Cordelia, her white hair shining eerily against the forest’s crimson light. An unfamiliar face, whose name was Arabelle, according to Lessa’s HUD. Only four? Her gaze flicked up to the names of those in her raid party, and her heart thudded far too violently beneath her breastplate.

Bahr.

Pinball.

Despite the situation, the thought of the men fighting side-by-side tore a bark of laughter from her as she finally entered the boss’ domain. The fight that awaited her remained shrouded in mystery, but one fact was clear - it certainly would not be boring.

Lessa moved up alongside Jomei, pausing to gaze up at the massive bear. Horror and wonder swirled in her stomach and behind her eyes, but her voice remained steady as she whispered, “Go get’em, Jom.”

Then she dropped back, assuming her support position behind the tank. He drew his sword, and she prepared herself for his shouted taunts. Instead, she was met by the sharp, precise voice of his violin. The Guardian let her head fall back, simply allowing the music to wash over her as she gazed up at the twisted, gnarled fingers of decaying trees. By the time his final notes faded, and he turned to address his party, Lessa’s sword was already in her hand. She grinned back at him. “We’re behind you all the way!”

All around her, tanks began lobbying for the bear’s attention. Amid the shouts, and flashes of triggered skills, Lessa caught sight of Hirru. With a sudden pang of panic, she realized that she hadn’t passed him the antidote that they had discussed prior to the fight. Without pausing to consider it further, she called up her inventory with her freehand while she jogged toward him.

“Hirru!” she called out, a small jar of Tiger Balm materializing in her cupped palm. She tossed it to him once she had his attention, and flashed him a quick, apologetic smile. “Sorry for the delay. Good luck!”

Only heartbeats later, she was back with her own party. Or, at least two-thirds of it. Wherever Pinball and Bahr were, she could only hope that they were in position, and ready for whatever followed.

Her blue eyes bounced between the two damage dealers before finally settling on Arabelle. “Hey, I’m going to hit you with a Hyperactive, okay? It’s slow, but it’ll help you replenish some of your energy.” Did she need to explain all of this to the other woman, especially in the heat of battle? Probably not, but talking through it somehow helped the baby support feel better about her decision. Lessa lifted Arcael's Might, leveled it at the young woman’s chest, and forced her will through the weapon’s length. Light burst from the blade, a shimmering display of blues and purples, before plunging into Arabelle’s core. As a result, Arabelle began to glow with the faintest periwinkle light. “It’ll fade when the effect does,” Lessa assured her party-mate. 

Then she turned to square her shoulders against Callisto. Whatever came next, they’d be ready for it. 

Or they wouldn’t.

But at least they’d be together in the end.

♫

In a tangle of limbs, hair, and cloth, Lessa burst into the shop. She nearly tripped over a pretty display just inside the doorway, her gauntlet clanging against her heavy breastplate as she attempted to right herself. "Gahhh," she managed, the sound somehow even louder than her armor and her general clumsiness. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for tripping, and for being so loud, and-" Helplessly, Lessa gestured toward the way she'd just come. "And for just everything. I'm normally more put together, I swear. It's just that I have literally one hour left before I'm supposed to fight a floor boss, and I don't have anything that I need, and I will take anything that you have that insta-heals. Seriously. Anything. And I'll give you whatever you want for it."

Blue eyes wide and pleading, she stared down the young lady behind the counter. Her chest rose and fell dramatically beneath her heavy armor, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Seriously. Anything. I am desperate."

Lessa sends Acanthus 42 mats.
Lessa takes 14 March to the Dawn (Instant HP Recovery 3)s.