Aetharan

"Okay, you son of a *****.  I'm going to break you into tiny little chunks to drop in somebody's bourbon, alright?  Do what you can, but you're not going to stop me!"  Just for gits and shiggles, he decided to switch to a right-handed stance for this next strike.  It wasn't like the game actually cared which hand he used to lead with, did it?  Nope.  Once he activated a sword art, it went the same either way, and he suspected that the programmers had done them all right-handed to begin with, just mirroring the movements to make a left-handed version where appropriate.

Thankfully, the art connected.  It was a pretty basic one, but once again, simple seemed to be what kept him on his feet and his enemy breaking down into smaller pieces!  This one looked like it was on its last legs.  A quarter health, when his weakest hits were doing just that much.  This fight would be over as soon as he could connect again.

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(ID# 29576 results: Battle: 7 Craft: 6 Loot: 9 MOB: 3)

(Concentration cooldown 4/5.)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan remains at 22/25 HP.  Miss.  Ice Elemental B drops to 4/16 HP.  Normal hit for 4 damage.)

There it was.  Target in the yellow.  Don't let it break your rhythm again, Aeth.  Just dance with it.  Step to the side, then jab again.  Chip off another chunk of that ice, and you can laugh when it's all done.  That's how this worked, right?  Just keep killing.  Just keep killing.  Stab your way through this mob, and the next, to this field boss, then the next floor boss, then the core systems of this worthless, hateful world itself...  then take a trip to Japan and stab the man who did this to them all.  Sounded like a plan, and a good one at that!

Unfortunately for him, the distraction of thinking about Kayaba, or whatever his name was, meant he missed out entirely on the opportunity to actually strike, and instead took a smack in the chest for his trouble.  Teach him to let himself be distracted, eh?

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(ID# 29574 results: Battle: 1 Craft: 11 Loot: 2 MOB: 8)

(Concentration cooldown 3/5.) (Battle Healing proc for 2.  Aetharan improves to 23/25 HP.)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan drops to 22/25 HP.  Normal hit for (3-2=1) damage.  Ice Elemental B remains at 8/16 HP.  Critical Miss.)

Well, this was a bit of an embarrassment, wasn't it?  "Blood and bloody ashes, not again..."  He clamored to his feet again, only to throw another lunge at the ice elemental in front of him.  Combat was the only time he really felt all that alive right now as it was.  He wasn't about to let it become a time to feel shame because he didn't own any frellin' spiked boots!  Half-pike was thrust toward the enemy's center of mass, rather than trying something fancy again.  It seemed that every time he did, he'd just end up falling over.  Stick to the basics, Aeth!

All in all, that seemed to work best for him out here in the cold.  It wasn't anything amazing, but that weapon sank into his frosty opponent, and even though he took a strike to his torso in exchange, he considered it fair trade.

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(ID# 29571 results: Battle: 6 Craft: 3 Loot: 10 MOB: 9)

(Concentration cooldown 2/5.)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan drops to 21/25 HP.  Critical hit for (3+1-2=2) damage.  Ice Elemental B drops to 8/16 HP.  Normal hit for 4 damage.)

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me.  You think you're going to take me out with those weak little attacks?  Tsk.  You're going to have to swing a lot harder to take me down, pretty little snowman."  Of course, he was going to have to hit a lot more, and harder, if he was going to pull off a victory, too.  Well, maybe not harder.  If this one's health matched the last one's, another hit like he'd delivered last would drop it into the yellow.  Nothing to do but swing for it-- up from that readied pose, into a driving lunge while the enemy reared back for its own swing.  Neither could make contact, and Aetharan would once again find himself on his arse.

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(ID# 29560 results: Battle: 1 Craft: 7 Loot: 9 MOB: 5)

(Concentration cooldown 1/5.)

(Exchange Results:  Swing and a miss.)

He could hear the second elemental's approach even as the first was raining down around him as fading motes, and now that he was back on his feet, he turned to face the direction from which it was coming.  A moment's thought, and he decided to jam that spike at the butt of his half-pike into the ground, setting it against a charge.  He'd wait for the enemy to rush him, and hopefully catch it with a hard thrust in exchange.  This was starting to remind him of how he'd always farmed mobs in the older MMOs.  Pull one at a time, and if you do things just right-- especially when he'd played a warlock back in WoW-- you wouldn't even have to wait between them.  As long as you didn't let numbers overwhelm you, you could keep going ad nauseum.

When it reached him, only the focus of having set for the charge allowed him to make a hit at all, and even that only came in exchange for accepting that his right arm had to take a strike in the process.  Once again, nothing was pretty about the exchange, but the combination of a superior weapon with better armor made sure he came out better with a one-for-one trade of attacks!

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(ID# 29555 results: Battle: 5 Craft: 7 Loot: 19 MOB: 7)

(Activating Concentration as a free action.  BD+1.)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan drops to 23/25 HP.  Normal hit for (3-2=1) damage.  Ice Elemental B drops to 12/16 HP.  Normal hit for 4 damage.)

Well, that was disappointing, wasn't it?  He wasn't going to get anywhere in this world if he kept falling over on the ice!  Still, would teach him to choose his battlefield better next time, and watch his footing.  Even as he struggled to his feet, he took a desperate swipe in the hopes that the scratch would finish off this ice elemental before another one could close in and make this more trouble than it was worth.  The last thing that he wanted was the embarrassment of taking a clobbering from a mostly-dead enemy because he hadn't paid attention to his surroundings!

Unfortunately, the clobbering did happen no matter how much he wanted to avoid it, but it only caught him across the shoulder, with his armor absorbing much of the force of that hit.  In the same moment, however, his spear was ramming straight through the mob's head.  It didn't even have time to pull back from its punch before vanishing into a thousand shards of light.

Unfortunately for Aetharan, that wasn't going to be the end of it.  A second Ice Elemental was bearing down on him without delay.  Seemed this might dissolve into a longer day than he could have hoped for.

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(ID# 29553 results: Battle: 10 Craft: 4 Loot: 7 MOB: 8)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan drops to 24/25 HP.  Normal hit for (3-2=1) damage.  Ice Elemental A drops to -4/16 HP.  Total critical for (4+2=6) damage.)

(Kill drops 1 Material, nothing more.  New mob incoming: Ice Elemental B.  Same stats as the first.)

Well, if regeneration counted, then he was on track for his first kill of the day to be a flawless victory, wasn't he?  That would be just beautiful!  It would be a hell of a change from the way his last combat had ended, at the very least.  He brought that half-pike up over his head, assuming the starting position of what was becoming his favored finishing-move-- that downward thrust that would, at least temporarily, nail his victim to the ground beneath it.  A growl escaped his throat as he brought his weapon down for the attempted kill, and his enemy desperately swept at his legs.  Unfortunately for both, neither one of them managed to make contact.  Aetharan slipped again, falling backward just as he was initiating that thrust, which pushed him out of the swinging enemy's way.

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(ID# 29551 results: Battle: 1 Craft: 9 Loot: 6 MOB: 4)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan remains untouched, but this time so does the enemy.)

Nothing for it now, was there?  His victim was half-dead.  Couldn't just leave it like that, could he?  Gotta finish the job.  It wasn't even the elemental he was actually after, but now it was in his way.  He took a moment to figure out just where he wanted to strike next, and he decided on the enemy's left shoulder.  If he could sever that arm, that'd be one fewer way for the creature to deflect his blows, right?  Not that he expected it to last long enough to deflect too many as it was.  This mob was nothing to him.  Just an obstacle.  He could feel the last of the damage it had dealt to him vanishing from his flesh even as that half-pike bit deep exactly where he'd been aiming, and sure enough, a solid quarter of that elemental's mass broke off and vanished right before his eyes.

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(ID# 29550 results: Battle: 10 Craft: 12 Loot: 7 MOB: 1)

(Battle Healing proc for 2.  Aetharan improved to 25/25 HP.)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan untouched.  Ice Elemental A drops to 2/16 HP.  Total critical for (4+2=6) damage.)

Aetharan chuckled quietly as he steadied himself after that strike, then murmured.  "So, I don't outclass you by quite as much as I did the wasps, eh?  Not a big surprise.  Different floor, and all that.  Just means that slaughtering you is going to be slightly more of a challenge, and thus, that much more fun."  Weapon was lowered, this time aiming for a leg-lunge that, if he was truly lucky, might trip up his opponent.  It would be even better if he could give it a limb-loss status effect, even if they were purely cosmetic!  For its part, the dumb elemental just took another high swing.  Predictably, that swing went right over Aetharan's head, allowing him to lunge in and chip another large chunk off of the creature, this time around its right hip.  Not quite limb loss, but pretty nonetheless!

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(ID# 29547 results: Battle: 8 Craft: 10 Loot: 9 MOB: 3)

(Battle Healing proc for 2.  Aetharan improved to 24/25 HP.)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan untouched.  Ice Elemental A drops to 8/16 HP.  Normal hit for 4 damage.)

After a few moments of being stunned by what'd just happened, Aetharan got up and called to his opponent.  "You don't tell anybody that just happened, and I won't, alright?  We can just call it even."  Why was he talking to the creature as if it were an intelligent opponent?  It was because, since he'd started this mess of a death game, he hadn't had anybody sapient to converse with.  Just banter with the computer that was trying to kill him.  If it weren't for his time under the waterfall this morning, he'd suspect that he was going mad.  Thanks to that, he knew that he'd already done so.  Oh well.  "Killin' time."

Seemed that the false starts had given the enemy an early advantage.  This time it was ready for him as he lunged in.  Oh, that spear made vicious contact with its left arm, chipping off a noticeable chunk of it, but the right impacted him hard in the chest, throwing him back again.

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(ID# 29545 results: Battle: 6 Craft: 11 Loot: 8 MOB: 10)

(Exchange Results:  Aetharan drops to 22/25 HP.  Total critical for (3+2-2=3) damage.  Ice Elemental A drops to 12/16 HP.  Normal hit for 4 damage.)

Well, that could have gone better, couldn't it?  At least it didn't hit him, either.  He looked at the elemental and chuckled, "So, Frosty, shall we call a mulligan on that first charge?  Yeah...  Come at me."  The elemental couldn't really do anything but comply, closing to take another swing at him.  Eyes were half-lidded as he awaited its approach into range, and when it was close enough, Aetharan took a second swing at his prey-- this time, aiming his weapon at its center of mass.  This wasn't like those bugs from yesterday.  He couldn't clip wings, or even trust in anything organic about its anatomy.  Just had to chip pieces off, and try not to let it break any of his bones!

Amusingly, they both slipped on the ice beneath their feet and the sounds of combat were momentarily replaced with the noise of two human-shaped creatures falling on their butts.

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(ID# 29544 results: Battle: 1 Craft: 7 Loot: 18 MOB: 1)

(Exchange Results:  Mutual crit-fail!)

The elemental wasn't the one he was after-- just a trash mob, if a stronger one than the most basic expectations of this floor.  It meant he was on the right track, at the very least.  Grinning, he decided to pull it the old-fashioned way, by charging in head-long and making it bleed.  Well, that was if anything in MMOs ever bled at all.  He'd make it suffer unexpected HP damage, then.  Would have to be good enough!  Half-pike leveled, he widened his stance and charged forward with a war cry, once again hearkening back to the days of yore, when RPGs were played on a screen instead of in virtual reality.  "Lok'Tar Ogar!"  It was enough to make his target aware of his presence, so it took a swing as he swooped in.

It was a pitiful opener, for both of them.  His spear struck nothing but air, and that pounding fist of ice hit only the ground.

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(ID# 29541 results: Battle: 2 Craft: 2 Loot: 8 MOB: 2)

(Exchange Results:  A whole lotta nothin'.)

Rumors of a re-spawning boss mob on the very floor that he'd chosen for his home were all too tempting.  Oh, the fire-resist drop that it was supposed to have wasn't a bad thing, but single-use items were just that.  The experience of slaughtering a field boss for the first time?  That was something else entirely!  Thus it was that, half-pike in hand, he made his way out toward the tundra for an afternoon of killing.  Heck, that was the only way to grow stronger around here, right?  Just keep slaughtering stronger and stronger mobs until the only challenge left is a floor boss.

Just keep going until there's nothing left.  He wasn't at that point yet, or he wouldn't be after this ice elemental on floor four when the front-lines were floor eleven...  but this was going to be a stepping stone for him.  The rumors had said that those who found the boss were farming ice elementals, and so that's where he'd begin.  He kept walking until he found one, then readied his weapon with a big grin on his face.

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Our contestants:

Aetharan.  25/25 HP.  4 damage on a normal hit.  2 mitigation.

Ice Elemental A.  16/16 HP.  3 damage on a normal hit.  0 mitigation.

Mission accepted.

Well, then.  That first weapon may have been a dud, but that didn't mean he had to give up for the day!  Mental image remained focused on the same type of pole-arm, but he paused to take several deep breaths before continuing.  He couldn't get this wrong.  He wanted it to be even better than the item that he'd first crafted, then blooded yesterday!  "Come on...  I want something beautiful enough to reduce that half-pike to a hand-me-down for the next spear-wielder I meet.  I know I can make this happen.  Just...  focus."

With that, the hammer came down, and the ingot was encased in light.  Moments later, it vanished into broken, wasted shards.  He'd wasted both steel ingots.

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(ID# 29539 results: Craft: 2) (Result: Failure)

Third day as a blacksmith, and this time, he got the pleasure of working steel instead of raw iron.  Oh, he liked the look of the latter, but there was also something to be said for a properly shiny blade, when all was said and done.  After his time spent meditating at the waterfall, he couldn't help but think that the day had good omens built into it.  The switch from the half-pike he was so proud of over to hammer and tongs was easy enough, especially in the creative mood that he was feeling at the moment, and he took the first steel ingot out of storage to begin putting that creative urge to work.

Mind focused on exactly what he wanted to craft.  This first effort of the day, he figured, would be a glaive-guisarme.  As they had been so colourfully described by a friend of his once, 'a kitchen knife on a stick, with a hook on the back for extra fun.'  In the real world, they could do pretty much anything, but he'd be treating it primarily as a spear in this game.

Unfortunately for him, that first effort of the day came out...  misshapen.  He tossed it into a bin in the back corner, too embarrassed by that creation to even put a price tag on it.

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(ID# 29536 results: Craft: 7 Loot: 11) (Result: Bad item.)

Rising from that rock, Aetharan made his way out from under the waterfall and back toward the path.  He paused to take one last look back at it over his shoulder, murmuring.  "It was good having this chat with you, ya know.  Maybe we can talk again later...  You're not half as bad a guy as I thought you were."  With that, he was done.  Turning away again, he started on the path back to Amazon.  Back to the teleportation area, and his road back to that little smithy he'd started up.  That, and the sources of rumors, the people who could give him leads on how to keep getting stronger.  Keep getting ready to stab this universe in its metaphorical reproductive organs until its creator's eyes watered.

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Summary Post

No combat or gathering this thread.

Quest complete, <<Calming the Soul>>.

Rewards:  400 Col (1 page of RP.)  2 SP (1 thread, 1 quest.)  <<Meditation>> skill earned, first rank.

"Look at it this way, Aetharan:  I couldn't make a difference.  Not in this world, and not in the other one either...  but I made you.  If you make a difference, then I made one too.  You're my contribution to this world...  Make me proud."  With those last words, Aetharan found himself blinking as his reflection in the water was simply that again.  It was no longer another self to have a conversation with.  Eyes closed for a bit, and he took a deep breath.  Seemed that he was coming out of that little trance of his.

"Yeah, I got ya..."  He really hoped that he didn't ever have to explain this meditation to anybody else.  Seriously, how was he going to tell somebody that he'd sat down and had a long talk with himself, in the most literal fashion possible?  Still, he'd come out of it with a better understanding of himself.   He'd acknowledged his deepest fear, and come to terms with both it, and how to make sure it never came to be.  "...just gotta keep getting stronger."

"Listen," said Aaron, "If that's how it's going to be...  well...  I guess I just don't want you to write me off quite yet.  I'm not as strong as you.  Never was, never could be.  That's why I dreamed you up in the first place...  but...  I may not be good enough to be out there on the front lines, in any world, but I don't want to watch you lose.  If things start looking bleak, then don't go all berserker rage, okay?  Take a few moments to calm down.  Use the flame and the void.  Think of me, and think of all those people you've promised not to let down, okay?  I always wrote you as having heroic resolve.  Well, here's your chance, okay?  You've taken on a life of your own, real quick, and I know you've got that resolve.  Don't let it waver."

"So, is that how it's going to be?  Pinning all your hopes on me, huh...  as if I didn't already have enough of a mountain on my shoulders.  Still, it's fine.  I can do it, Aaron.  For you, for myself, and for everybody who's too scared to make it to the front lines.  I'm going to take the battle to the top...  and I'll carry you with me.  Don't have a choice."

The two of them just sat there for a moment, neither willing to be the first to look away.  Again, it was Aaron who finally spoke.  "In other words, you're resolved to make sure that you-- that we-- don't die without having made an imprint in this world, right?"

Aetharan nodded in response.  "Yeah.  That's pretty much the long and short of it.  Was always your biggest fear, wasn't it?  That you'd go out with a whimper, and nobody would ever even know you'd existed other than your immediate family, right?  That when it's all said and done, your life would have been for nothing?  Well, I'm not going down without a fight.  Back there, in the Starting City, I was a burden.  I was holding others back, just by doing nothing.  Now...  now I'm going to keep pushing until not only am I strong enough to stand on my own, but can help carry somebody else."

Aaron looked him in the eye for a long while, before speaking again in that soft tone of his.  "So, what's your plan then?  You going to give it your all, grind by yourself until you're ready to show up at the door in front of the next boss fight?  Just announce yourself to the raid-group as their backup?"

Aetharan chuckled softly at that.  "I'd thought about it, yeah.  More likely, when I'm ready, I'll start making a few contacts.  Don't need a guild, though.  The important part is that I can only make a real difference in this world by poking holes in the floor bosses.  Nothing else that I, or anybody else does, gets us any closer to ending this game.  If I'm going to die, it's going to be there...  making a difference.  I'm not you, Aaron.  I'm not going to just go peacefully into the night.  I'm going to take enough of this world with me to make a difference."

That reflection shook its head at him, murmuring in a tone that sounded on the edge of despair.  "So, you really are just going to stab at some ones and zeros and call it a day?  You don't get it--"

"No, you don't get it!" Aetharan shouted back at him.  "You're still thinking of this as just playing a game, and it's not.  It hasn't been since we all learned what happens when your HP hits nil.  There are two ways out of this death game.  We die, here and in that other world, or we beat the hundredth-floor boss and everybody who's still alive gets to go home.  The more people there are strong enough to fight on the front lines, the faster the game ends in a good way.  The more of us there are ready to take the fight to any given boss, the less likely there are to be casualties on the way to victory."

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(Out of Combat recovery.  HP improves to 25/25.)

Aaron laughed in his face.  "Pay them back how?  What can you do in this world, hm?  You gonna stab a few pixels with your pointy stick and call it a win?  Pathetic.  All those monsters you've been fighting, they just re-spawn.  You're not making a difference at all.  You're just deluding yourself, punk."

Aetharan wanted to reach out and strangle that other self.  "It's called training, you prick.  You should know.  How many hundreds of hours did you waste in WoW, leveling character after character to the level cap?  I need stats and gear, and when I get there, I can start to make a difference.  Safety margins for the raid victories.  Helping clear the bosses that don't re-spawn.  You know the basics of how it all works.  The more DPS there is on our side, the faster the boss goes down.  The faster it dies, the less it can hurt the others...  and in this game, where HP 0 is death in the real world too, that kind of damage mitigation means everything."

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(Out of Combat recovery.  HP improves to 24/25.)

That other self seemed to be sitting just in front of him now, face to face in the same pose as it smirked.  As Aaron smirked.  "I've accepted what I am, but you can't.  Me?  I'm a vegetable right now.  In a hospital bed somewhere, being kept alive by machines.  At some point, they're going to give up and unplug me.  I'll go on to the Summerlands.  There, I'll have my time to cry over all the things I couldn't do.  All the debts I still owed when I died.  All the people I hurt over the years.  You?  What do you have?"

Shaking his head, Aetharan growled.  "I have purpose.  I'll have had meaning, if only in this world.  At least this death game is real.  The world may not be, but the people in it, and the actions they take, are very real.  To me, and to every other player here.  You have your ledger, and I have mine.  I don't care what yours looks like, because you stopped writing in it the day our place in this world was handed over to me.  My ledger may be starting with some debts in it...  but unlike you, I can do something to pay them back."

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(Out of Combat recovery.  HP improves to 23/25.)

Aetharan's reflection in the water stared back up at him, and in his near trance-like state, he heard it speak.  It was his own voice, of course, but it wasn't Aetharan speaking, was it?  No.  It was Aaron.  "So, you've figured it out, have you?" asked the reflection.  "Now you know why I made you in the first place.  How does it make you feel, Aetharan?  What meaning does your life have, if not to serve the purpose for which I crafted you?"  That reflection, at least in his mind's eye, seemed to be glaring at him accusingly.

Taken aback, Aetharan straightened up.  "I...  I don't know what you're talking about."

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(Out of Combat recovery.  HP improves to 22/25.)