Itzal

Itzal shrugged.  He made a good point.  Eventually people would know him, and then his weapon preference wouldn't be a secret.  Besides, a straight sword was common and everyone knew how to fight against it.  As for the loot, he would rather get some but he figured getting xp and sword skills was better in the long run.  He could get materials and equipment some other time.  He quickly went to his menu and equipped his sword.  It was the basic straight sword of course, nothing fancy.  But he hoped to one day wield a blade that was powerful and would be known by many.  Until that day however, he had a lot to learn.  He scanned the valley for a target and found one relatively close and charged it with his sword in his right hand.  

 

ID# 61850

Itzal:  8

Boar:  1

Dmg:  Itzal<0  Boar<2

Hp result:  Itzal<4  Boar<2

 

Itzal made little sound as he charged the boar from behind.  By the time it noticed him it was too late.  It tried swinging a tusk at him but he leapt to the left, activating his sword art, engulfing the sword in a dark red glow, and swung his blade at the boar, cutting it from it's head to it's rear.  A clean cut.  Itzal turned quickly to see the boar make some distance between them before getting ready to charge.

Itzal's thoughts swirled quickly as he ran over.  First by mentally beating himself for mention killing other players.  His past was getting to him.  He'd have to cut the past off right now if he was to survive this game.  Second, he was a little surprised at Verus' response.  Perhaps he didn't have the personal experience to realize that some people just didn't care if it's not a game.  Itzal did though.  And he was sure people like that would have gotten into the game.  The third was acknowledging the fact that Verus was indeed far above him.  He didn't worry about that though.  It was a fact, and facts couldn't be change.  But he could catch up.  And that was what he intended.  He stopped a few paces from Verus.

"Pretty cool," he admitted.

To this Itzal hesitated.  He had just met Verus and already was being asked what he was planning.  After a moment of uncomfortable silence he gave in.  He decided it was time to actually trust someone.  He couldn't be solo forever.

"Naw, I wouldn't be caught dead with them," he said bluntly, but with a touch of humor.  He gestured to his body.  "You really think they'd want this?" he added jokingly.  He shook his head.  "No, I'd prefer a totally different road.  Yes I want to grow in combat skills, but I also want to practice stealth and awareness skills."  He looked at Verus seriously.  "Not many players realize how deadly a surprise attack or eavesdropper can be.  No I don't want to kill other players."  His face darkened.  "But I know there are those who do.  And I refuse to fall to any of them."  He shut himself up.  He already said too much.  If he kept going he'd start talking about things that were personal.  Very personal.  And he couldn't have that.  He forced a smile on his face, lightening the mood.  Hopefully.

"Besides, I hate seafood!"

(No problem, I know the bare minimum of fighting, iow perma roller)

Now realizing that nothing bad was happening he let out a frustrated sigh, easily maneuvering through the crowd of npcs.  He checked to make sure his weapon wasn't hanging from his side.  Unless he was surrounded with enemies, he preferred it when potential threats were unawares of his weapon or techniques.  Uncertainty, surprise and doubt were always a powerful ally, as well as diversion and stealth.  He ran in pace beside Verus.

"Basic straight sword," he said in a low voice.  Despite that they were surrounded with npcs, he learned from his time in real life that you could never be too careful.  There would always be ears waiting to hear rumors, gossip, and the occasional prey.  "And yes, I can fight.  I wouldn't have bought this game if I couldn't handle a sword.  He hesitated a moment.  Although he knew how to fight, he realized that he never really developed his own personal technique.  He read through many strategies and versions, ways to fight, but never actually selected one.  He supposed he would have to discover it soon.  He nodded to Verus' rapier.

"I see you prefer precision over hacking and slashing," he said with a hint of satisfaction.  "I'm assuming you prefer fast strikes then move out of the way before your opponent can strike back?  A hit and run technique so to speak?"  His eyes gleamed, hoping the answer would be his next option.  "Or perhaps something more developed?"  Despite the fact that this man was helping him, he wanted Verus to know that he wasn't an imbecile.

Not knowing what was going on, Itzal dashed after Verus with surprising speed.  That's the advantage of having a smaller body.  Even though he didn't have long legs for long paces, he was quick and the lack of body reduced the amount of resistance of wind.  That plus the fact that whenever he ran he bowed his back a little, appearing to look like a flying spear when at top speed, it reduced that resistance that much more.  As for Verus' comment on in game names, he disagreed.  When he logged in, he chose a name that represented what he wanted to become.  Now that there was no leaving, that name was his lifeline.  To survive this world, he had to become a shadow.  Not someone who hid from every fight or anything of that sort, but someone who could vanish and reappear, using the shadows to his advantage.  At the same time he must be strong, so that whenever he did emerge from the shadows he could hold his ground.  That was another advantage of having a small body.  A smaller target to wing at, and smaller targets were normally harder to find.

"What's going on?!" he yelled.

This time, Itzal replied quickly.

"My name's Itzal," he replied fairly cheerly with his left hand outstretched in greeting.  Obviously this player wanted something out of helping him.  But he could tell that there was some care for Itzal in his eyes.  And apparently he had a friend who could already afford armor.  Post noobs or no, they knew plenty he did not.  And Itzal knew more than most people that knowledge granted power.  He also knew however, that power would destroy you without proper wisdom applied.

"And I'd love it if you helped me out!"

Itzal hesitated.  People never EVER offered anything to him freely.  Ever.  But then again, people behaved differently in video games than they did in real life.  This person might be self-centered in the real world, possibly a little bit even now.  Another counter point to his thought was that, despite his distrust sprouted from past bullying, he absolutely needed someone to help get him on his feet, and fast.  He had no time to waist.  He needed to become strong, powerful, unyielding to all his foes, and to death itself.  And this man was offering such a ticket.  But before he could accept it, he needed to know something first.

"Would you really just drop what your doing and help a noob like myself?" he asked with a hint of doubt in his voice.  Normally he never called anyone a noob, let alone himself.  Originally it was a harmless term that meant a player new to the game.  But over time it became an insult, and he knew most players looked at newbies in that way.

To this Itzal frowned.  Partner.  He sighed inwardly.  Although he was known by his family as a nice guy, he hated trusting someone completely new.  His one and only friend never got the nerve gear and therefore he was utterly alone.  No one he could trust.  He saw the wisdom in the man's words however and knew that this was out of his league.  He was never good at making new friends.

"Alright then," he sighed.  "Any advice on finding a partner?  Or where a decent shop might be?"

Itzal saw the smile on the mans face and observed him in a new light.  He seemed nice enough and might be willing to share information.  Itzal didn't need much of course.  He just needed the basics than he'd be on his way to train.  A friend of his who played beta told him how to activate sword skills and such, but other than that he was at ground zero.  He tried messaging and finding his friend but to no avail.  He must have decided to wait a little longer before getting the Nerve Gear.  Lucky him.

"Yeah I'm pretty new.  That's why I'm not bothering with shops for now."  He chuckled.  "I wouldn't know what to buy or avoid."  He looked around the city.  "Not to mention I don't understand the mechanics of this game.  Just that it's an rpg fantasy game with no magic."

"Sorry," Itzal instinctively replied.  He noticed that this player was a bit taller than most people and wore the same basic clothes every player started with.  But that didn't mean he was as new as he was.  After all, one of his original plans were to purchase better weapons before getting armor, though as he considered before, he didn't know much about the game to make decisions like that yet.  Itzal looked at his face and saw that he was close to his age, maybe a little younger.  Tall and young he thought.  Many people thought that his small hight made him weak, especially the kids at his school in the real world.  What nobody really thought about however, was that he found a way to use his small height to his advantage.

Itzal rose to his feet and noticed the rapier hanging from the man's side.  This probably meant that he relied on quick and precise strikes rather than sheer force.  A style he could agree with.  Itzal placed his left hand on the back of his neck and looked to the side.

"Sorry about that," he apologized.  "I wasn't paying attention, deep in thought you know?"

Itzal didn't have much time to waste.  He walked briskly from the town of beginnings.  He had to learn more about this game.  He had to learn how to fight, to defend, to evade, and above all, how to survive.  To do that he would have to either find someone who knew the game or some other informant.  He wouldn't purchase anything yet as he had no idea what would be a good choice or not.  Itzal looked down as he picked up his pace.  Still.  He had a chance.  A chance to be strong and resilient, unlike his reality self.

Suddenly Itzal struck something solid and fell backwards, falling down.  He'd been so deep in thought that he hadn't been aware of his surroundings.  He would have to fix that soon.  He looked at what he ran into.

<<Itzal>>
<<Beacon of Hope>>

 

 

 

 

 

 

Username: Itzal. The username for his account on Nerve Gear was selected from a word in the Basque language. Translated, the word itzal means shadow. He chose this name in order to take a break from his online rivalry with a player named FearX, as well as trying to shed his more embarrassing username from his past, and bury both of them behind. His plan was to choose an assassin build in SAO until he discovered the truth of this world.

 

Real Name: Felix Arno. While he genuinely loves his real name, priding the meaning of both his first name and last name together. Felix means 'happy' or 'lucky', and while he doesn't feel like 'lucky' describes him in the game, he relates to happy quite well. Arno means eagle, which Itzal himself translates to a symbol of freedom, typically from bondage. Before SAO he had never thought of America where he was born in. Now he thinks of it whenever he says his name aloud.

 

Age: Twenty two at the start of SAO. To Itzal's perspective, or in other words in character perspective, five years have gone by. Therefore he sees himself as twenty seven years old. Regardless of what his true age is, Itzal cannot feel his age physically, and thus tells people that age in SAO depends on the maturity of the individual, and not their physical appearance.

 

Birthday: December Seventh is Itzal's birthday in real life. In the game not only does he consistently forget his birthday, but it often brings sad memories to him when he recognizes it arriving. In the real world he consistently avoided his family and shut himself inside his room day after day, and was always grumpy during the holidays. This strengthens his desire to return home soon.

 

Gender: Male.

 

Height: 5'4

 

 

 

 

<<Biography & Personality>>

 

 

The Farthest Back Felix can remember in his memories was the day he left his home in America for a trip to Japan. This was when he was only six years old, raised by a mother and father who worked with a company that focused on advancing technology. Well off and living comfortably, but not wealthy and luxurious either. He couldn't remember what brought them to Japan, whether it was a family vacation, Felix wanting to see Japan, his father having a business meeting there, some other reason, or a combination of all of the above. They rented a room in a hotel, explored, had fun, and enjoyed their first day in Japan. On their way home they decided to explore more by taking a shortcut, and then ran into someone. A dirty, ragged, malnourished man with emotional and aggressive eyes carrying a gun pointed at them. He had wasted no time asking for their belongings and simply started shooting. His father was the first to go, and before Felix could even process what had happened, his mother shoved him to the side and was shot next. If she hadn't pushed him aside, he would be dead too. Felix curled up in the corner of trash and junk even after the man took all he could grab and ran away. It was only when the police finally arrived when he crawled over to his parents and cried over them.

 

The police tried to find his parents relatives in America, but with Felix not knowing any and no phone or identification to use, as well as the issue of locating someone overseas, they eventually gave up trying to do so. Finally, one officer offered to take the boy home with him until they could find a relative. It took over an hour for the officer to get Felix to finally talk, let alone stand up and walk with him to his car. He had called ahead and let his wife and daughter know of the situation, and gave him space as the seemingly lifeless boy followed the officer to his room. Days passed. Then weeks. Then months. Eventually the police gave up looking for his relatives indefinitely. Eventually Felix was forced to accept this new life of his in Japan, whether he wanted to or not.

 

With much encouragement, support and love, his new parents helped him get into public school. Quickly establishing himself as anti-social, most of the kids avoided him, while a few of the older kids picked on him once or twice, though without much of a reaction they began to do so less and less. His parents claim he inherited their intelligence as he excelled at math and programming, language arts and chemistry. He took interest in the concept of advanced programs, and especially AI which was excitingly advanced. When he played a video game with a program that was surprisingly close to a legitimate AI, he was hooked and knew what he wanted out of life. He began to take extra classes when allowed, and spent most of his time outside his room studying and writing out his own codes from scratch. This however, drew the attention of bullies once more, and they began to persecute him worse than before. Not wanting to run crying to his adopted parents, Felix would watch tutorials on the internet for something called parkour, which gave him the ability to run away from the bullies without them being able to keep up with him. He used his weekends to practice, and eventually master this skill.

 

While his mind grew and sharpened, and his goals slowly becoming more and more established, his relationship with his family didn't grow at all. His sister often tried to invite him to family activities, or give him something as a sister. She would often just walk in and watch him play video games in silence, or observe him writing a code, occasionally asking questions about it. While he would respond to her in these situations, sometimes with a smile with the excitement of his project, he never once reached out to her in turn. Holidays were often tense as he was mostly reserved, and rarely smiled. The most recent moment his adopted parents and sister saw his smile was when they pooled their money together to get him the Nerve Gear. The most advanced game ever written.

 

The day after, every smile would fade away from the household. And it would be unclear how long they would need to wait before a smile returned to any of them.

 

Discovering the truth of this life or death game, Felix now calling himself Itzal became even more distant and anti-social than before. He didn't trust anyone and didn't plan to trust anyone either. However this hadn't gone on for long before he was confronted by someone open and friendly. After a few encounters, Itzal realized how far behind he was, and for the first time became a part of a group. Slowly becoming more and more open the longer he stayed with these people, the feeling of friendship, and the security it provided him (as well as the comfort of not being alone in a game of life or death), began to fill the void of loneliness he was never aware existed. Throughout his time in Aincrad Itzal has grown more mature, more friendly, and stronger than he ever had been. In this way he is grateful to Kayaba, but can never forgive him for the thousands of deaths he'd committed by trapping the players in this horrifying world.

 

As of today, Itzal comes across to others as friendly, encouraging, optimistic and analytical. He is very open towards other players, and is quick to forgive, as well as offer a second chance. He is actively ready to help another player in need, whether it be something as simple as finding additional materials, finding someone, or just having someone to talk to, to something as vital as stopping an ambush, saving someone from a quest or dungeon gone wrong, and so forth. This desire to help other players leads him to hunt down player killers and throw them into prison, though for certain individuals he does some background checks on them first before assaulting them. While Itzal can have arguments with his friends about how things should be handled, and no matter how distant they become, they are still very good friends in his eyes. Should any of his friends call him for help or aid in any way shape or form. He will be there as quickly as he can.

 

When donning his alias Are (ar-ay) Itzal takes on a new persona. In order to better combat player killers as well as to keep those he loves safe from his enemies, Itzal only fights them when wearing his armor. As such, no one knows that it is Itzal who is going out every day and night hunting down, ambushing, combating, and imprisoning player killers. It is only Are. Similar to comic book vigilantes he uses this alias as a way to fight dangerous people without putting his loved ones at risk. While under the guise of Are, he does not appear gentle or kind, empathetic or the like. While this is not the case, it comes across as such by the way he presents himself, and because the emotions he displays through his smile and eyes are hidden by the dark mist that hangs under his cowl. Instead of these warm emotions, he comes across as cold, calculative, strict, and swift to take action.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

<<Virtues>>

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<<Vices>>

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