Gotz

There is a lone porch standing just beside a rafflesia, and I guess this serves as a proper resting place to the seekers of the waterfall. I approach it casually and slowly open the door, pushing my shield forward as I look around the interior. The layout is simple as it consists on a table, chair, bed, and some cupboards. No threats are visible here...I'm getting in.

Surprisingly, I discover that the cupboards are full of canned food and water. Looking at them closely, they come in different kinds of food including fish, meat or whatnot. I grin as I notice a can of sardines, which is my personal favorite. However, I realize that I don't have any proper means to open it. Attempting to do so with a sword is too much, I might spill most of the contents. Luckily, there is a can opener placed conveniently onto the table, the metal surface shining proudly as it awaits for somebody to put it to good use.

No sooner after I walk towards the table to pick it up, I hear a loud bang against the door, followed by a gruff voice that says: "I smell someone in hear! Don't you dare take my supplies, scumbag!

And so, here I am...wandering around the mist within the woods as I try my best to look for hibiscuses and rafflesias. They are easy to distinguish among each other, and I like to think that rafflesias serve as a marker to how close I am to the waterfall, while the hibiscuses indicate the distance between myself and the giant flowers. 

I think of nothing except for the shadow puppets that I am supposed to meet. The mention of their psychic powers is a little troubling to my ears. They are not to be fooled around with, especially if one's attacks are all dependent on brute force. It takes some degree of intelligence to counter these psychic attacks. One of the ways to do so, in my opinion, is trickery. This may be possible should the opponent is so focused on attacking the target that he or she is distracted from their surroundings. 

Alternatively, one can even endure the constant dodging and hiding from those powers until the opponent is exhausted, thus letting themselves open to the incoming attack from the warrior. 

These strategies may or may not work, but so far these are the only ones I can ever think of.

"Why yes, dear." The old woman answers with a chuckle. I guess nobody gave a s**t about her story until now...or maybe they pussied out of her dangerous requests. "The waterfall is practically a safe 'checkpoint' in the Wandering Mist. The water is so refreshing to drink and bathe, that you will feel eternal bliss as a side effect. No potential threats can ever enter the sanctuary, for according to reoccurring rumors, there is somebody that are protecting said waterfall, and although they allow anyone to rest there, some of them will do whatever it takes to kick him or her out of the place. These things perceive outsiders as threats, and there is a reason behind this believe."

"...what are these people...or creatures called?"

"Shadow puppets," she continues. "Named so because they have the ability to turn into invulnerable shadows on any solid surfaces. Walls, stones, grounds, trees, et cetera. They have psychic powers ranging from telekenesis to pyrokenesis. They only strike with their powerful, physical strength should an enemy come in close contact with their skin, including grabbing. You, sir, must be careful and respect them as best as possible. If you are lucky, few of them are willing to join adventurers and become your familiar."

Familiar huh...why I never think of such a thing during my days as an Aincradian...

An interesting fact about the Forest Of Wandering Mist came to me prior to today's journey within the mist itself. While having a good, warm meal in the local inn, a slight-elderly woman asks me if I can let her sit at my table. I let her do so and say nothing else at the moment, for I am actually expecting her to ramble about her tales of whatever notable incidents she faced or experienced, just like any other NPCs that does so to random players, though most of them fit in the 'veteran' group. It doesn't necessarily mean they were soldiers, but they could also be former adventurers of Aincrad, and thus wish to share as much information as possible to the modern Aincradians. 

As I take the last bite of roasted mutton, the woman began to speak of a beautiful waterfall that lies deep within the misty forest, and that it requires only one thing to reach it. Hibiscus or rafflesias must be used as guides for they are placed in such a way that they are kind of lining up in one single path if arranged altogether. That was what the woman said, and her story got my attention. It has been a darn while since I wander anywhere outside Floor 3, for I was busy rearranging and tidying up some things in my new armory as well as relaxing like a Snorlax in my free time. 

"...can you tell me more of this...waterfall?" I ask her.

At this point I don't really have anything to monologue, because everything else is eventful, aside from the fact that I am ready for another adventure, if an NPC ever comes to me to ask for a quest. No matter how many NPCs I interacted in Floor 3, they are either 'busy' or simply aren't the right people to give me dangerous quests.

Even worse is that whenever quest I receive from random NPCs, they always belong in the fetch category. F**king fetch quests, why are they so prevalent in MMO or any other fantasy games? Why not you just get a badass weapon and armor then collect your own s**t, or even try stealth. I don't care how much they are paying me, I hate doing that kind of quest because they are so f**king tedious that I rather have my d--

Oh damn..my ingot is overheating....I guess I should stop ranting now, and move on. ....heh...

OOC: Roll is in next post due to some error I realized and corrected.

As I glance at the wormy creature hanging out among the ribs of the cadaver, it points the the tip of its head towards me, and reveal its true nature. It opens its circular mouth occupied by sharp jaws, hissing furiously at my presence. I start to realize that this worm is a creature capable of parasitism, and I know I am right. The worm crawls up within the body, and soon the corpse itself starts to twitch violently, follow by an inhuman scream that may sound similar to its final scream before its gory death.

Then, this happens. Before my very eyes is a part of the interior flesh that gradually mutates and becomes larger. All of a sudden it literally stretches out of the hole on the stomach, creating a larger cervix as it splits its tip to four, tentacle-like arms. (+1 Paralyze upon Critical Roll) The mouth of the cadaver also mutates by transforming into a big, semi-circular mouth, filled with appendages capable of digging the flesh like a f**king shovel (+2 Bleed upon Critical Roll). 

The thing drops down to its feet as it lets out a vile growl, and because it is aware that it is facing someone capable of fighting, it steps away and taunts me by hitting its own face with its fist, inviting me to my own demise.

For two minutes I stand with my shield raised, gritting my teeth as I am a little traumatized of what I saw moments ago and having the dilemma to attack it, or simply wait for it to advance. I try to bang my own shield in response to its taunt, and instead of advancing, the thing extends its large arm and grabs my shield, attempting to take it away from me with its surprisingly great strength. 

ID: 69573 BD: 10 MD: 1

With my own strength, I pull my shield to the left and unleash my Sword Art against the rubbery flesh of the arm, the blade sliding along its side until it reaches the body. Angrily, I gouge the blade into the thing's neck and carve out part of its skin, before darting to the entrance of one of the abandoned cells.

Gotz: HP 120/120

Necromorph: HP 50/60

Energy: 8/12

Vertical Arc used! (2 x 2)

The inside smells like very old piss..or rather coppery of some sort. I cannot even tell, almost everything in the prison is totally unsalvageable. Torn papers and decaying telephones are scattered around the wooden tables. No expense seems to be spared in the 'lobby.' The area itself remains unsettling and I suddenly feel...vulnerable. Even though there is no threat around the premises. Equipping my tower shield and black sword, I march my way towards the toilets for some reason. Water is surprisingly still running, even though it should be shut down the moment this prison is left abandoned.

The smell never really gets any worse, although the surroundings itself is very filthy. I do not stay there for a long time, and I step out of the toilets and head to the main hallway that contain the cells. I wish I am being more cautious and walk in a slow pace, because I am slightly rushing only to see a figure in the middle of the hallway.

...this...is is rather grotesque to look at. The figure turns out to be a human as I approach it carefully. All of his limbs are hooked in a crucifix shape, and his bloodshot eyes remain f**king open. He looked like he was dead from internal injuries, because there is a hole being bored out of his stomach. His guts are missing...and...what is that worm hanging onto his ribs?

As the evening comes to a stop with the departure of the sun, the flames of the forge brightens up most of the basement, allowing me to eat and drink easily. Where in the world do they get salmon here...I don't recall seeing any forms of water such as lakes, rivers or whatnot in Floor 3. Maybe this food is imported, mm. It's f**king delicious though. I am practically craving for more. 

After gobbling up the salmon meat happily, I face the forge as I notice the ingots already formed from their ore shapes. They are lying on the burning, hot surface as the bright yellow color emerges in their textures. Very carefully, I pick them up and get on to my usual smithing, remembering my first ever attempt to forge a single sword. I find armor to be more easier to work with. Though it uses more materials than weapons, at least there is plenty of room to bang my hammer against. 

1. ID: 69433 CD: 1 

This ingot is nothing but trash! Shamefur dispray! Gained 1 EXP.  Advanced to Rank 3.

2. ID: 69434 CD: 3

You are a failure! Gained 1 EXP

3. ID: 69435 CD: 8

Good armor forged. Gained 2 EXP

4. ID: 69436 CD: 4 LD: 7

Bad armor forged. Best salvaged or disposed. Gained 1 EXP

RESULTS:

I almost gave up my profession as a blacksmith as no one came to buy or drop requests in my previous shop, Swordaria. I remember thinking of replacing my career with an alchemist type, for potions draw more attention than equipment, since they are always needed to be supplied with. It is true that they are vital, but sometimes when you advance to the dangerous floors, you need a better suit of metal, or at least a single, thorny breastplate or helmet. 

So I swear to myself that I only forge weapons as requested by my customers, and also to not overwork as I usually do. After closing down my shop, I proceed to head to the Elven city of Floor 3 and set up a new armory here. The shop, known as Centurion Zone, is a little smaller than the previous, but at least it is spacious enough to feel comfortable and walk around. Plus the floor is now made of shiny marble, so that is a plus to me, as I feel like walking into a store in a shopping mall. Centurion Zone contains my workspace in the basement, and the forge and anvil are simply the same as before.

Grabbing all of the metal that I still have with me, I start the fire with a mixture of charcoal and some burning pieces of paper, then I take three metal ores and smelt them into ingots.

1. ID: 69382 CD: 8

Good armor forged! Gained 2 EXP!

2. ID: 69389 CD: 4 LD: 2

Bad armor forged. Best salvaged or discarded. Gained 1 EXP!

3. ID: 69384 CD: 7

Good armor forged! Gained 2 EXP!

RESULTS:

Previous shop: http://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/13303-f1-armory-swordaria-aspirant/

Welcome to my new armory, the Centurion Zone, named so because it is a shop that focuses entirely on various kinds of armor. That's right, now I only aim to forge armors for this particular store. Maybe you need to protect your beautiful self as best as possible, or maybe you need to enhance yourself through the way of protective clothing/suits. Alternatively, you may be here for higher tier armor.

The reason I choose to exclusively forge armors for most of the time is because in my perspective, new weapons and shields are not really necessary to buy once you have the maximum damage or mitigation of such equipment. Combined with your Sword Arts and weapons skills, you are already an expert slayer of the beasts. 

Now, just because this shop only sells armor, it doesn't mean that you will not get new weapons and shields from here. In fact, if you do want them, be sure to drop a request here, and I will forge the customs for you. 

As before, keep in check of my stats, and remember that bad items are junk to my eyes. 

Happy adventuring and slaying, warriors of Aincrad.

STATS

PRICES

ON DISPLAY

...what is this place? I am only taking a stroll outside the city of Floor 2, only to suddenly find a path covered by moss that leads to this...abandoned building. By the looks of it, it seems to be a prison of some sort. There are at least six individual of the cells in the building, and at the second story, there are only two windows, both panes broken. Although the entirety of the medieval-esque prison gives me the willies, I suddenly have the urge to cleanse this place from whatever lurks within its vicinity. The cold breeze that is once calm to the touch, now gives off a chilly feel, as if it is doing the opposite to my state of mind.

Since I had nothing to do for the past days, I make the decision to venture into the prison to see the cells that are frozen in time, and to slay the monsters that dwell in the building for some reason. I don my suit of plate armor for around thirty minutes, and strap on to my tower shield as I step into the main 'lobby' of the prison.

Name: Gotz

Level: 6

Build: Tank

Location: Jail

As the breeze blows through my plate armor, I hear the sound of shuffling among the grounds. Being wary of the dangers of Floor 5, I turn my head around to see an old, female hag, donned in some sort of demonic mask that would be only useful for traditional Asian dances or storytelling. The old lady approaches me calmly and speak of something that gains my interest.

"Are you seeking for a familiar, swordsman? If you are, there is a unique oasis eastwards inhabited by shadow puppet creatures. They have the ability to use psychic powers including telekinesis, teleportation, and pyrokinesis. Fortunately, swordsman, they can be tamed, and if you are lucky, some of them are even willing to join humans for they are sick of being idle around the oasis. So, are you willing to go?"

Shadow puppets...? Now that is something new...I have seen several of these shows before online, and they originate from the Javanese regions and later being spread to other Asian countries. Or..maybe these shadow puppets in Floor 5 aren't like the ones I know, I hope it is. 

I give the hag a nod as I think to myself about compensating my loneliness with a familiar. It can be my personal company, as long as it doesn't get affected by the Navi Syndrome. She chuckles at my answer and points to the supposed direction, and as I look eastwards, I hear another set of footsteps, and turn around.

....a player..? Who the hell jogs in the middle of the desert?

@Magda

Standing in the grassy fields of the fifth floor, I swing my sword harshly as I am building up my strength that is appropriate enough for a tank. I am already used to the weight of my Zertsalo plate armor, and moving in that full metal suit is already natural to my own body. The clanging sounds of metal isn't as annoying as it would be, but this hinders any attempts to attack silently. Weather is rather...odd today. Even though the clouds are pure white, the atmosphere seems to be in a rainy mood despite not having any sign of rain droplets. 

The swinging of my sword is getting faster as I imagine myself fighting an armored player killer. In my mind, my sword clangs against the gap between the plates on his shoulder, severing the flesh. The thought of ultraviolence becomes apparent, as my sword decapitates the imaginary player, instantly killing him. The memories of the previous battles I had are still prominent, and soon I find my sword swinging my sword violently to the point where it makes a quick slice against a lone, long single grass. Panting in my full helmet, I gaze upon the sky as the feeling of solitude hits me.

Well then. This is the so far the quickest battle I am ever involved in my life in Aincrad. I look in amazement as @Macradon unleash his single attack with his Sword Art, splitting the head of the Hoya Minotaur and kills it instantly. As it disappears from this farm, I could only stare at the armored player as he talks about how he acknowledges the fact that he is probably too strong for the quest and his love for fighting, which is the same as mine. I think we can get along even better.

"It is fine," I speak. "We haven't seen the Manticore yet..surely it is worse than the Hoya Minotaurs."

Just as I am about to move on, something else comes out of the house. I turn my head to the door to see a humanoid NPC dressed in tattered clothing, his lips are dry and his eyes are sunken. He approaches us as he talks in a weak but audible voice.

"S...south..." he mutters as he gazes at us. "S..south and take..take only the path covered by a single...long thread...I have been there...rrgh..."

He grunts as he kneels down, covering an injury on his body with his hand. He then reassures us that he will be fine, and not to worry about him.

"Careful of his tail...rrgh...go now, and thank you..."

Armed with my black sword and tower shield, I proceed to explore the remnants of the buildings. Stepping into the barn is like stepping into a ruined Templar fort. There are evidences of the walls being destroyed, and the smell of metal(?) is common inside. Haystacks are barely visible in the dark corners of the building, and no tools are present. The second story is also empty, save for a lone pitchfork lying on the floor. Perhaps the owner sees something through the round window that is located at the upper centre of the barn's front area. There is nothing worth scavenging, so I get down and head out to the farmhouse, thinking that @Macradon may be inside or is investigating the other parts of the farm.

No sooner after I touch the doorknob of the door, I hear loud, shaky footsteps stomping on the wooden floorboards, and as I retreat from the door to stay back from whatever is present in the house, a giant blade slashes through the wood, followed by two pairs of bull horns. Stepping out from the house is one of the Hoya Minotaurs, clad in half plate armor that covers the right side of its body (+3 MIT). It wields a large scimitar that possesses sharp metal (+1 Bleed upon critical damage) and two aging horns, which become less effective in battle. It lets out a loud, deafening roar as it walks up to me, exclaiming: "You are lucky to come here, for you will be my opponent and my next meal!"

ID: 69208

BD: 4 MD: 1

The Hoya Minotaur is already charging his horns and sword towards me, and I am lucky to block his attack with my tower shield. Because I have to stagger backwards and compose myself, I couldn't swing my sword towards him. The creature grins at me as I am gazing at his ferocious face through my visor.

Gotz: HP 120/120

Hoya Minotaur: HP 45/45

I stare at the redhead leaving us with a rather unnerving expression. It is a bad idea to try to convince her to follow us, so I let her be and gaze at Macrodon's suit of armor. At least he still have high stats to slay and protect ourselves from the monsters we are about to face. I continue my journey to the farm with him, expecting to see farmer NPCs working on their crops and offering hospitality to the visitors of their place. I do not think there is anything to talk about to the smithy, as my mind is entirely focused on the manticore and the Hoya Minotaurs. As we reach there, however, I see something that is completely unexpected to my eyes.

The farm is entirely decrepit and abandoned. Not a single soul can be seen in the area, or maybe in the two buildings, which are the barn and a large house. I cannot help but gain a bad feeling that something caused this, and in a panicked state, my mind is convincing me to don my armor right now. So I do what I need to do, trying my best to not be hasty so I won't leave any gaps between the suit.

I simply waved at him and get onto my feet, walking back to the Amazon for another drink and sleep. Rain starts to fall throughout the sixth floor, and my armor is already glistening with the wetness it achieved from the heavy rain. As I reach the Amazon, I head to the local inn and pay for accommodation and a cold glass of beer. I couldn't stop thinking of my profession, and decide whether to continue or abandon it. But then I see that there is probably no point of continuing it, because nobody will come into my shop anyway...if only there is an NPC that would teach me alchemy.

I figure that mixing liquids and adding raw, natural ingredients into the mix are more relaxing than banging and heating the hot metal noisily. Hell, I could probably use my alchemist shop as my bedroom. That is a nice thought, but for now...rrgh....

I need more beer..

SUMMARY

Obtained 200 COL for each player here

Gained 1 SP for both players

-- THREAD COMPLETE --

"..Good statement," I say to Beatbox as flashbacks of my fight with the thief invades my mind like Vikings. That was exactly what I did, just rushing and slashing to him without ever thinking of his capabilities. I sit down on the grassy field, and stare at the sky as it is starting to get dark. I wish I have something to say to Beatbox, but I cannot find a better topic to talk about, except about Aincrad, which may sound boring to him. On second thought...hm...

"Are you a lone wolf, Beatbox?" I ask him. "I am always a lone swordsman, travelling in and out of the early floors of Aincrad. However, I sometimes search for players to party up so it would be a little easier, though none ever accept my proposal so far. Also, I used to have a shop in the Starting City, which is still standing today...I somehow lost interest in blacksmithing, as I found out that potions are more attractive than equipment. There are already tons of blacksmiths in Aincrad, and it is more than enough to provide every inhabitants with the best armor and weapons available."

This random rambling is sounding like noise to my ears, but I couldn't help myself to get more acquainted with the blonde, graceful male. 

"That was such a good fight," I remark as I put my shield and sword away, staring at the jungle through the visor of my helmet. Somehow I have a feeling that there is something sinister living in the forest, maybe it is because of the sketchy look of the area. Look at the darkness within the trees...it's like a void that leads to nowhere. Who the hell would ever dare to venture through the blackness of the vast jungle...?

This floor is where everything in Aincrad starts to become more beautiful...and more sinister. That is just my thought. Though I cannot wait to see and fight epic creatures, I am unnerved when I think of their unpredictable strength and the increasing dangerous abilities such as spitting venom or breath out flames. I turn my head to look at Beatbox, who is now panting and grinning at the joy of disposing the cheetah.

...no...stop thinking about it, Gotz...it could be never right to his perspective....

ID: 69120

BD: 6

I'll be damned. Beatbox really impresses me with his Sword Art and attack moves that harbor tons of damage to the cheetah, who is now bleeding profusely as it somehow gags out a small amount of blood. As swiftly as I can, I sprint towards the beast and slash its incoming clawed paw, causing it to back away and roar at a loud volume. As it does so, I take the advantage of the cheetah's brief lapse and swing my sword vertically to its skull. By hearing the little sound of the bone being fractured, I could tell that it is unusually thick, although not as tough as the skull of a Stegoceras. 

I let out a raging grunt as I kick it in the face like a football, and briefly look at Beatbox, not breaking a single sweat. Admittedly, I enjoy his assistance and this fight. I cannot wait to commit ultraviolence against the poor sod. I mean...the cheetah. Not him, as I have no desire to kill him since he isn't hostile.

Gotz: HP 120/120

Energy: 1/12

Used Vertical! (1 x 1)

Beatbox: HP 393/420

Cheetah: HP 39/210

ID: 69116

BD: 7

Understandably, I nod at his stern advice and now trying my best to predict where the cheetah might attack. It is still paying full attention to Beatbox, and now I crave to deal as much damage as I can to the beast. As it lets out a scary growl at both of us, I slowly step back in a way that from its perspective, I am retreating to let it maul my comrade in peace. Acknowledging this, the cheetah slowly steps forward, its sharp stare aimed towards him as it is ready to pounce once more.

Out of nowhere, I do the same kind of attack towards the giant feline, this time severing its body with my Sword Art. For extra measure, I withdraw my sword from its flesh and bash its skull with the pommel as violently as possible. After four quick successions, I shove it away with my tower shield, causing it to fall onto the ground.

Gotz: HP 120/120 

Energy: 2/12

Used Vertical Arc! (2 x 2)

Beatbox: HP 393/420

Cheetah: HP 94/210

The cheetah gives up on headbutting as I manage to bash him away from my shield, but this one is really non-hesitant to harm one of us. It quickly side steps and leaps up towards @Beatbox, giving him a mild scratch to his body. I quickly turn around as guilt immediately washes me over for not being able to protect him as a tank myself. Luckily he pick up his pace and move on to give the big cat another brutal slashing in the form of a star. I think somewhere in the middle, his sword slashes his face, because I notice blood spilling out from the cut wound on the cheek. The cheetah lets out its iconic roar as I bang my sword against my shield to get his attention, and it works.

ID: 69096

BD: 7

Energy: 6/12

Used Vertical Arc! ( 2 x 2)

Gotz: HP 120/120

Beatbox: HP 383/420

Cheetah: HP 104/210 

As soon as the cheetah finishes turning around to face me, I am already charging my sword like a lance, striking its neck as I grab its head with my strength and jab the flesh multiple times, before kicking it away from my range. The cheetah grits its teeth as, despite maintaining its speed and strength, it starts to move in a limply motion. Drops of blood from the wounded neck drops to the ground, it growls menacingly.

"I am heading to the farm so I can head south from it," I speak to her in a calm voice. "But I need a bit of rest in the barn first. Do you wish to join me in killing the Hoya minotaurs and their guardian, the Manticore?"

This sentence may also be applied to the smithy whose shop I frequently visit, Macradon. His armor is quite impressive thanks to its heavy influence of German Gothic armor, and the fact that he is a high leveled player only makes my day better. I walk up to both of them while extending my hand. "Shake my hand if you wish to join, Aincradians."

I do hope they accept my quest, for I fear that the Manticore would possess high strength and health, in addition to its poisonous tail, which is something I do not want to touch at all, even if I am the type of person to withstand all kinds of poison. This thought reminds me of a pet scorpion my former friend used to had. It is unfortunate that he used his own pet to kill someone he had a debt with, and eventually himself due to heavy depression. It sounded really f**ked up, but I learnt to overcome the incident in three weeks after his funeral.

It is sweet for him to prevent me from going berserk despite the fact that I am donning full metal armor and a tower shield. As we walk along the small fields that are surrounded by the jungle, he tells me about his level as well as his battle advice while we are looking for something to slash on. A while after he finishes his explanation, we encounter a Cheeetah.

The Cheetah bears no mutation, but it is still dangerous to fight against as its claws and teeth are quite sharp as well as having the ability to pierce one's flesh...which may not happen as we are armored. It lets out a loud roar as Beatbox makes his first moves and successfully damage it with a star-like attack pattern. 

ID: 69509

BD: 1 MD: 5

As soon as it is my turn to attack, I charge towards the big cat in an attempt to bash its face wih my shield. To my surprise, it does the same with its head and soon, both of the metal surface and the animal skull clash against each other like shield walls, and this is where I realize his strength. I stand onto the ground as best as I can as I attempt to shove his head away from the struggle.

Gotz: HP 120/120 Energy: 10/12

Beatbox: HP 420/420

Cheetah: HP 162/210