Corvo

TricolorMina & Katoka v. Pollux & Koga - 6:00 PM

"That's the way, short stack!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, unmindful of the crowd of eyes that shifted back toward him balefully. He cupped both hands around his mouth, one foot planting eagerly on the back of the seat in front of him like an anchor. The patron seated there did not like it, and swatted at the red-eyed menace to extricate the boot from the back of his head. Corvo kicked him. "Oi, fuck off, this is a labor of love, y'know," he growled at the annoyance. "Or at least, I'm tryin' to gas someone up. Ain't no different from ya'll."

"You don't have to kick people to do that!"

"Then don't stand in the way of my boot!" He rolled his eyes at the man, who sighed and leaned forward in defeat. Corvo leaned forward and raised his voice again. "LET'S GO, YEE HAW! Show me a good time, not a long time!"

"Where's the fun in that?" he smirked playfully as she peeled away and made some distance from him. That was to be expected; as there were few and far between people who were comfortable in that situation, and not many of them were in Aincrad with him. It was a great way to get an accurate read on others, though- especially the sort of people who were just playing at confidence, rather than actually being completely sure of themselves. Corvo's was a domineering presence when compared with the majority of Players he'd met. Even if they were at an advantage in terms of level and skill in the game. 

Though, she was right about one thing. His name was much easier to say than words in a language he wasn't even sure he knew. It wasn't Japanese, at least. Those words didn't congeal and flow like water the way her name did. They were more rigid and annunciated, "proper" even.  Like the way you said them had to be carefully measured and trimmed to tailor to the situation. So when he said it back exactly the way she had, it had been more emulation than actual aptitude. The more times he tried to say it in his head now, the more it functioned like a tongue twister. Damn- she'd made him start thinking about it, and now, it was becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Tricky lass, this one.

"A [Demonic Shard]? Can't say as I have," he answered honestly at her question, which graciously saved him from the hell she'd built. Oh, she was good. "Z'at so? Abnormalities how? I've not really noticed anything that might fit the bill just yet..." however, at the notion that it was a form of training, his tenacity suddenly spiked. Even if he didn't know what he was looking for, the compass was telling them where to go, and there wasn't much else to do but forage. That was it. That was the job. Scurry around and scrape at the ground. Throw bullshit at a wall until something finally stuck.

"Well, I came to do the quest," he told her, "and I aim to do just that, but no one says I can't enjoy myself along the way. And I'm already enjoyin' you, so unless you're in some kind of hurry, I'm inclined to keep doing that, too."

-> FORAGING: 241401: LD 18: +1 Material

"Looks like I'm not completely inept, either."

He slid closer to her, standing directly behind the woman as she conferred with Giovanna about compasses and what to do about the quest. When she spun back around, she was face to face-- well, actually, it would've been chest to face for her, since she was a bit shorter than he was. Which he wasn't used to, because he wasn't incredibly tall back home. "Well, Yue Hua," he said, repeating her name. It was an interesting name, not like anything he'd heard before. "I'm Corvo. I hope that you don't mind the closeness." 

Corvo leaned down closer to inspect her face more closely, then determined he found her "cute." That was acceptable! He could afford to be a little nicer. Probably. That depended on how things transpired from that point forward. The party request had appeared right between their faces, which at this point, were not far apart. He reached up and quickly accepted to dismiss the small barrier she'd inadvertently placed between them. "Unfortunately, I don't like being called anything, since I don't really wanna be here in the first place, but that's probably true for everyone. So if you need to remember my name, or call it out, or even scream it for whatever reason, Corvo'll just have to work." He offered a deftly placed wink.

He hoped his (ironically not an attempt at humor) demeanor would break some of the ice between them and make things less awkward. Corvo pulled back to respect her personal space more as he reached up and tussled his messy blonde hair a bit. She seemed to have a pretty decent idea of how everything worked, whereas all of this was new to him. He'd just have to pay attention and listen to any advice that Yue Hua had to offer. 

> FORAGING: 241148: LD: 10: Whiffed it

It was telling that when prompted about a job, the NPCs expected Corvo to do all of the heavy lifting. More than realistic, he lamented. Painstakingly realistic. Down to the most drab and depressing details from the real world. That Kayaba must've been a real sadist. He continued down the path in roughly the direction of the forest, where the lad indicated that he would find the forager, Giovanna. It was not a winding path by any means, perhaps more straightforward than anywhere else in the many worlds that comprised Aincrad. That made sense- the First Floor, and Town of Beginnings, came as close to a tutorial as Sword Art Online was going to give. Corvo noted how the boars moved relative to it, unlike other enemy movement patterns that were more complex and dangerous. They seemed to largely avoid the beaten path, affording safety to players who were not overzealous and under-leveled as they traversed the region. In essence, it was the perfect place to explore. And the perfect place to get sidetracked.

He spat to one side and reminded himself of his mission for the day. Gotta go sell my soul for some col. He checked his status and inventory, as well as his equipment just to be sure he was prepared on the off chance he did end up in a compromising situation. The tree line grew closer and as he stepped beneath the shade it afforded, he glanced over the mini-map to see if there was a quest in view. He was able to navigate the area skillfully without any unnecessary entanglements. He was starting to think that he might be in the wrong area when he overheard someone talking nearby.

You are telling me these cost 30,000 col?

Wait... on the first floor? What could feasibly cost that much?

He took the opportunity as he listened to get closer, whereupon he found the speaker and their conversation partner, who the Player indicated to be the NPC he was looking for. As the explanation played out, Corvo noticed the prompt for the quest appear before the woman. So, it was a triggered event, rather than something he would have found just by looking at the map. That was pretty underhanded, wasn't it? "Hey," he interjected before the girl was able to be whisked off by her task, grabbing the attention of the NPC- and probably her, as well... provided she cared enough to engage. That was a crapshoot.

"Couldn't help but overhear the conversation," he said. "A kid back in town was going around telling people looking for work about the business you've been plying out here in the woods. I was hoping you'd point me in the right direction to pick up some of your skills."

They seemed to have the same kind of response no matter what kind of tone you took with them, but Corvo was more interested in getting this quest over with than dealing with interpersonal bullshit. If he managed to get on the bad side of the NPC, it might be difficult to manage the quest. Hopefully the more tactful approach would earn him more useful information. "And, uh," he regarded Yue Hua sharply, "Seeing as we're both going to be doing it anyway, whaddya say we handle it together? It'd be less dangerous than trying to piece things together between boars, yeah?"

Rather, this way, he could get more done, and minimize the threat of death before he was able to sustain and make himself stronger.

Quid Pro Quo.

@Pollux

Reaching up to stroke his chin, Corvo assessed the woman carefully. She seemed uncertain, but her speech belied greater care than trepidation. She was walking on eggshells. That made sense. Corvo was a lot, even on his good days. He knew it better than anyone.

Zuri was definitely an eclectic name. He'd never heard it before. He frowned a bit when she told him it was her real name. "Should probably be more careful with sensitive information like your real name," he told her. "Not that people in here are gonna be able to scam you or anything like that, but it's a good rule to get in the habit of in online interactions."

That was a dad rule, harder than anything, he was pressed to abide by it. He'd broken it only a handful of times. He was lucky those played out favorably. Then again, he was here because of those friends, so maybe... not so much.

"Kandy, huh?"

Oh, he could be real funny about that. Didn't seem to be the right move in this scenario, though. "I bet you get a lot of wisecracks about that one, so I'll spare you."

She asked why he was helping, and he raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I can stop helping you if you'd rather. Doesn't hurt my feelings. Kind of outside my usual MO to be nice to anyone, anyway."

Didn't hurt his feelings to admit that, either.

"Guess I'm just tired of this fuckin' game havin' it's way. If'n I can keep it from killin' someone, I aim to get my licks in where I can. Today, I guess, right place, right time?"

Corvo shrugged.

When she admitted that she'd seen someone, they'd passed the person (or persons) up and she'd said nothing, he glanced slowly at her and sighed loudly. "Yeah, kind of figured you'd say that. Didn't figure you'd stray too far from where it went in hopes they'd get bored and you'd get it back. You can't rely on people to be good natured, y'know. God knows I ain't. It's just your lucky day."

He took a step toward her, draped an arm over her shoulder, then leaned in real close. "Now, whaddya say we go take your power back, little lady?"

She was... 

Corvo studied her reactions carefully as she went on the defensive, going so far as to hide her face and retreat behind formalities. Extreme shyness, almost certainly. It was clear she didn't like the absence of space he'd created, but rather than fight back, her response was to placate and become submissive. He pulled back a bit, allowing her a bit more breathing room- though he didn't actually step away.

A sigh escaped him. There were many ways to handle the situation that were probably better than blowing a gasket and completely tearing into the girl, and he knew it. Hell, he figured she was more likely to pretend to hear what he said and then disregard it after they went their separate ways. He didn't want that.

"It's Corvo," he told her. "But you're free to call me whatever you want, if you like sir better."

God knows he didn't love it, but if it made her more comfortable, then whatever.

"Look, I ain't tryin' to be ugly," Corvo said finally. Though honestly, it was going to come off that way no matter what he said. "It's just, this is some pretty serious shit, y'know? None of us asked for this. This world, it ain't doing us any favors, and if'n you let it, it's liable to kill ya."

He didn't glance her way as he spoke. It wasn't often that he gave out words of wisdom or advice... or really even gave anyone a second thought. He just knew this world was the enemy, and every single person trapped in it with him was at the very least in the same boat.

Damn, I hate it when I have that dream.

That was when she took a few steps away to create distance on her own. He finally glanced back at her at that point. He smirked and let out a quiet 'heh.'

"What should I call you, then?" he asked. "I was leaning toward "Brown Sugar," but I'm in such a good mood, I'll let you decide."

Corvo quirked a brow as she seemed to wage war internally. Her words dammed in her throat and she audibly paused, whether in hesitation or confusion, he couldn't tell. His frown returned. "Huh?"

The woman's inflection, words, and mannerisms were tedious. She was being obtuse- purposefully or otherwise. It felt like she was trying to hide something, or at the very least, not being completely forthcoming with information. That was irritating in its own way, and Corvo had neither the patience nor the decorum to hide how it made him feel.

Had she actually said that? Corvo took a step toward Kandy and got closer, almost in her face. His brow knit and he scrutinized her with a serious expression.

"It's your property," he said flatly. "The gear you wear can literally protect your life. Every item in this game that belongs to you, weapons, armor, potions- those can spell the difference between making it out of this world alive or in a box. Do you not understand that?"

He was uncertain that her sense of self preservation worked at this point. She wanted the item back, which was a good sign- but her willingness to part with it in the first place, combined with her seeming inability to stick up for herself- those things were pretty worrisome. She was really starting to remind him of someone. 

On the off chance she might be able to find information that would get her back her helmet, shouldn't she be able to vaguely inconvenience someone to ask about if they'd seen something? Surely no one would take grave offense to that. The very idea was nonsensical, at least to Corvo. Or was it that she was afraid of confrontation?

Then, she asked him something. Fidgeting with her hands, she had insisted they keep on moving, so in the interest of keeping their conversation productive, he acquiesced as he allowed:

"Sure. Go ahead."

He kept himself apprised of their surroundings as they went, noting that the woman stayed quite by and large the entire time, opting for speaking only when prudent. He knew plenty of people who struggled with social cues and situations- or at least, he knew one pretty well. She was capable of speaking a great deal better than the person he knew though, and carried herself with a fraction more intent and confidence than him. She smiled at him- that was uncharacteristic of what he'd seen so far, but they had know each other for only a minute or so. He couldn't possibly make an accurate character appraisal with that little time- prejudices notwithstanding, given she was a person (and boy howdy, Corvo wasn't fond of those).

His scowl lessened, if only a bit. His jaw stayed clenched though. It was obvious she was still mostly avoiding eye contact. Then again, he was pretty abrasive, which was not very great for compelling people to engage in healthy interpersonal... well, anything.

When she did speak up, it was to intone that it 'could' be nearby, she 'guessed.' He decidedly frowned at that. "You mean you didn't think to keep it in your sights, if nothing else?" he asked. Was she seriously telling him that someone just up and took her helmet and waltzed off with it and she didn't even protest? Or that she wasn't able, or wasn't given the option? Any way she shook it, Corvo didn't like the sound of that. He sighed audibly. She said that she didn't see it, but they hadn't gone far.

"Unfortunately, since they didn't stick around... we're going to have to actually search." He made an attempt to rope in the scathing sarcasm, and only have managed to take a slight edge off the venom. Corvo took a step with his heel and turned to walk backwards in front of her, both hands behind his head. "Anything you remember about the people who took your helmet?" he asked, not exactly more softly than before, but it was obvious he was making an attempt to be tolerable. He couldn't help her if he ran her off with his abominable attitude. "Faces, anything they might have said about where they were going to play? Something that might give us a lead."

His brows knitted together as he watched her expression and body language. "Eh?" Corvo blinked incredulously as the woman stammered and began to apologize. What was all that about? He was just trying to calm her down.

The red-eyed blonde didn't need to be told his bedside manner was abysmal to know it, but he also wasn't overly fond of being reminded. He wore a slight frown as she spoke up.

"Someone took your helmet?" he asked. "You didn't give it to them?"

It seemed like a strange question, but with the way that handling inventoried items worked in SAO, the distinction was surprisingly important. That she wasn't equipped with the item meant that she had willfully parted with that function, and handing it over to someone else... well...

"Can't say as I've seen it, but I'll help you find it."

Used a helmet as a sportsball? God, people were inventive. The ennui really was winning the war for their hearts if people were stealing helmets to toss around. "If'n it's yers," he said flatly, "we'll just take it back. Possession is nine tenths of the law and alla that."

Corvo was really black and white when it came to that kind of thing. He was in the business of taking exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. And this woman seemed to be struggling with something he was actually good at.

For once.

She mentioned his hand, and how big it was, and Corvo immediately blinked again. Was that some kind of complement? Or... what...? It seemed incredibly outlandish, which given her accent, was actually not that surprising.

Was that some kind of British? Maybe. Somewhere far flung from the Empire, at any rate.

He put both hands up in front of her as she pulled away, both to signal no-harm-no-foul, and to punctuate the next words out of his mouth. "You know what they say about big hands," he smirked.

"Big gloves."

As he let his arms drop back to his sides, Corvo watched her look toward him, but not at him. He wasn't sure what to make of this one. She mentioned that she hadn't meant to make him upset, and his eyes narrowed a bit.

"Everything pisses me off," he told her. "Don't sweat it. You got bigger things to worry about than hurting my feelings."

Corvo made a slight gesture toward her face. "Say, for instance... that helmet of yours."

It wasn't strange to see someone multiple times in a day on the first floor, especially when one considered how many low level players didn't venture out past the walls. What was strange was to see one multiple times in a matter of minutes. The woman was frantic, clearly out of sorts. His mood was more sullen than usual, so he wasn't quite at the point where he'd bark at her just for existing.

Her anxiety was starting to make him anxious. That was the breaking point. Corvo didn't want to feel that kind of empathy toward someone else- and he didn't want to feel uneasy for any reason. The only logical course of action was to-

"Hey."

He reached out, placing a hand on the woman's bicep. Under most circumstances, touching people out of nowhere wasn't his thing; but she seemed lost in a spiral, and pulling her out required something a bit more forceful.

"Are you good?" 

Corvo wouldn't try to maintain his grip if she pulled away from him, but he did exert enough pressure to get her attention. "You're looking a little out of it," 

After a moment, he added, "and its making me antsy."

Corvo looked her over. This woman was someone who didn't seem exceptionally confident. Sheepish might even be a good word. She was different from many of the people he'd seen in Aincrad, unconventional in that she was definitely not Japanese. Then again, he wasn't, either.

Maybe it was the dream, but he was feeling uncharacteristically...

...like his father's son.

"Did you need some help?"

Well, damn. He'd gone and said that, and it wasn't like he could take it back now. He didn't smile, though. He was aware, alert, untrusting.

But not unkind.

Monotony was the most lethal killer in Aincrad.

People could speak for days on the dangers of being unprepared, the unpredictability of boss encounters, Player Killers- not a one of them could hold a candle to the ennui that crept in with every simulated breath. Corvo lamented in silence every time he opened his eyes to see a digital sunrise. It was the only time he was silent anymore. Alone with his thoughts, the sublime desire to simply fade, to wither away instead of missing his family. For the few fleeting moments before he dragged himself out of the inn bed each day, the same morose thoughts plagued him. This day was no different.

The dreams of life outside the fabricated reality left him with a deep longing to reconnect with his loved ones. The people who he'd rebelled against by simply sliding the NerveGear over his head, thinking they would never find out. Foolishly believing as he had that there would be a short escape from the strict rules and overbearing parents, Evan drowned in despair that the Father figure who had given him discipline and taught him respect was no longer there. That the creature this game had debased him into becoming was something his mentor would shun and look upon with contempt was a difficult truth to live with. But that same man had taught him to live in truth.

In that Paradox, he swallowed his self-loathing.

Not today, either.

He stretched out his arms and cracked his neck, sprawling out just before his feet hit the floor. Corvo slid his fingers through the air, summoned his clothes, and mentally prepared himself to face Aincrad. Today he opted for a more casual fit than what he normally wore out into the fields to grind, instead focused more on collecting information and tools to advance, rather than throwing himself at the wall and falling victim to fatigue again. A change of pace, something desperate in hopes of fighting off that same existential dread that seemed to have become routine. The moment he lost hope, he might actually lose the fight. He might actually never get to see them again...

...not today, he reminded himself.

And with that, he slipped out of the inn and into Town, uncharacteristically quiet.

God.

One leg over the other, his foot hung limp and toes flicked from side to side as the two women unloaded on him. He stared at the empty drink glass after polishing off the liquid within, lifting it to examine it with one eye closed. God damn it, they have inflated self-esteem and get easily offended. They're the most annoying kind of bitches. Corvo exhaled loudly as he was told to "tread lightly." "I'm gonna stop you right there, lady," he said, thrusting out a hand as KnightinGale started to prattle off her indignation and indicated that the other girl had 'claimed' him. "You're talkin' a whole lot for someone who got asked a simple question. Got it, yer name's Lady of the Night or whatever. That's enough for me." She said some other stuff- Corvo had given up on trying to pay attention. His jaw hung open in a slight drawl as he turned his gaze to the other one, after her sister had extricated herself from the situation.

Claimed, huh? Yeah, no. I don't belong to anyone, especially not this fuckin' game.

He'd frankly lost interest almost immediately, but the chaos that followed his initial engagement was fantastic. So few opportunities existed in this world to really engage with good, ol' fashioned drama. "Lady, I walked up to you and tossed out a one liner, then you tried to get all complicated. That ain't my problem." He lifted his pipe up, took a long drag, and exhaled a long plume of smoke into the woman's face. "Your opinions are just like everyone else's- you all got 'em, and none of 'em make no matter to me."

So quick to give up, to walk away, to cast stones and shun a man because they didn't like what he had to say. Corvo knew the type. He'd always known them- and at one point in his life, he'd even been one of them. They were the kind of people who bored him most in the world. Both women walked away, toward the bar, and both engaged with other patrons. Corvo shook his head, smiled, and leaned back in his seat with both elbows draped over the chair behind him. "What was it dad used to say...?" he asked rhetorically, staring at the ceiling through the haze spiraling upward from his nostrils.

"Ah yeah... love it when the trash takes itself out."

His gaze locked with hers when she reached toward him. When her fingers traced his skin, he slowly glanced down toward her hand, then back toward her. Fire burned in his veins, that deep seated longing for human touch fulfilled.

Acid boiled immediately thereafter at the cruel reality, that the touch he received was anything but. Digitized emulation of the genuine article. An elaborate lie, the same lie that the game told them day in and out.

Don't fucking touch me. His rage screamed from within, caged behind his ribs, bursting outward to blister his flesh from the inside. He almost gave voice to it, but managed to contain his aggression. Instead, he closed his eyes, and allowed the touch to continue as she goaded him.

Come the end of the night, I'll be stabbing you one way or another, hook, knife, my co-- 

The initial desire to put a blade in her right there subsided quickly. For as scary as it might be, inside the safe zone it would only incense the guards and ultimately manage nothing. The gratification flickered out of the idea as quickly as it came, leaving Corvo with only the situation he had thrust himself into thrusting itself right back into him.

Corvo's eyes reopened once her unsolicited touch had abated. 

"Sure are obsessed with makin' a man work, ain't ya?" he jeered, letting the woman sample the venom that pooled inside him. "And here I was, thinkin' you were already interested. Maybe I played the wrong hand," Corvo said, rolling his neck and turning his gaze toward KnightinGale with a crooked smirk.

"Now that," he said at the woman's assessment about the lamentable state of alcohol in their false reality, "is a sentiment that a fella can get behind."

Corvo turned on a heel and slouched into a seat not so far from Knightmare, draping his arm over the back of it and man-spreading for maximum comfort. "Seems to me if'n I can die for real playin' this game, the least the devs coulda done was let me deal with problems the same way I would've on the outside." 

He waved down the bar lad, who scowled at him, and ordered. "Seein' as we ain't enjoyin' the full experience either way, though- Everclear, straight, make it a double. I want my face to feel like it's meltin' off."

The NPC hurried off to fulfill the horrific order as Corvo turned his attention back to the two attractive young ladies.

"Y'could have this'n learn you a thing or two," Corvo accepted the glass of glorified rubbing alcohol and raised it, gesturing toward Knightmare's sister for her own benefit. "Priorities'n whatnot." With an unceremonious gulp, he sent the hellfire straight to his gullet, burning all the way down.

"SheeeeeeeeeeeYIT," he hissed, shaking his head wildly as the pain jumpstarted his receptors. "Like I was sayin', though- priorities," he repeated. "Like, for example, names- mines Corvo, by the way- those're much more important than one liners. How about it, Inky?" He addressed the tattooed sister first. "What do the boys moan when yer rustlin' their Jimmies?"

It didn't take much to get her attention, he noticed.

Corvo reached back behind him and peeled the wooden pipe from his inventory, spinning it deftly between his fingers as he drew it around his body and brought it to his lips. Bringing both hands up to cup and cover the bowl while igniting the herb within, he took a long, heavy, burning draw with both eyes closed. The room was still spinning. His head hadn't left the spiral of endorphins and adrenaline, nor had the headache left him entirely. He needed the sanity that his placebo brought, at least enough to not stumble over his own two feet.

"Um, sir, this is the non-smoking section..."

The world around him slowed down, and the words all blurred together. The haze that roiled forth from his nostrils emanated and swept around him, serpentine. Ever bloodshot, they moved to the offender and considered him skeptically. As he pried the apparatus from between his lips, a fog of burning ash billowed into the server's face. "You got a problem?" he drawled.

"No problem," the man shook his head, all the while attempting to be firm. "You can move to the back," he gestured, "just over there and enjoy yourself."

Corvo stood in silence for just a moment, then placed a hand on the NPC's shoulder. "Right," he donned his false, yet believable smile. "Think I'll do just that."

He gave the man several harsh pats, just before shoving the pipe between the poor NPC's lips. Alarmed, the man gasped, involuntarily gagging on a heaping helping of smoke on top of what Corvo had exhaled directly into his face. As the NPC hacked horribly, Corvo's eyes flickered away, disinterested. He palmed his pipe, turning toward his intended prey. The smoking section was where he was already bound, and that fact was all that saved the serving boy from a torrent of curses and incorrigibly rude behavior. He hated being told what to do. The rules of this world were prohibitive, and more just kept piling on as he cast off his chains and attempted to climb higher through the castle in the sky. 

Forget that, he chided the negative thoughts creeping back into his mind. This moment, in this place- this was a chance to brush those things aside for a moment. His strides were predatory, lithe, purposeful. When finally his gaze met hers again- that sultry, beckoning, piqued interest that invited him hence- he was in front of her, looking down, the faintest traces of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. With the pipe still clutched in his fist, Corvo pressed his knuckles to his lips thoughtfully for a moment. A quick, easy opener might illicit a giggle or a quirky response, but Corvo wanted to take his time and have a halfway decent conversation. 

If she could keep up.

"Dad told me once," Corvo said at last, "any fish worth catching'll hook itself."

He flipped the pipe over his knuckles, caught it skillfully between index and middle fingers, and snapped his teeth down on it before taking another drag.

"How about it? Feelin' hooked yet?"

Corvo didn't change his expression as he awaited a response; if not from the girl, then perhaps from the one who bore a striking resemblance to her. Suffice to say, it was a hit or miss engage- and whatever came next was exactly the sort of chaos on which he thrived.

He leaned back and pressed his palms against the rooftop, bracing himself for a deep breath that forcibly filled his lungs. The air here was dank, even so high up and away from the bustling city below. The headache brewing in his temples went unabated by the so-called "fresh air," and he exhaled harshly. "Fuckin' city smells like a hooker puked up saffron 'n myrrh on someone's taint," he muttered as he pushed his back toward the roof and stretched his spine, slowly reaching toward the edge with either hand to pop his shoulders. In reality, he didn't need the sensation in this world, but he was so accustomed to a more rigorous routine in the real world that he forced himself. "Can't hardly breathe. Wonder what's to do around here... maybe actually get that drink..."

Corvo rolled his shoulders back now, bringing his spine upward and lifting his feet over his head, until his toes touched behind him. He held the position for several long moments, then snapped both legs forward, bringing his body undulating into an upright, crouched position. With both hands now outstretched in front of him and the balls of his feet teetering dangerously, expertly close to the edge, he balanced like a perched bird as his gaze swept over Lhasri, simultaneous toggling the minimap in order to glean a greater idea of what was going on around him. The number of shops was expectedly high, with a smattering of taverns throughout. His disinterest remained plain for a time as he watched some of the patrons enter and exit, musing about the various clientele. Would he be able to drink in peace, or at the very least, would one of the places have a tolerable number of fuckwits to act as a counterweight to the throbbing in his forehead. 

He let his hands fall, crossed at the wrists, and dangle in front of him. "Not there," he muttered, "not there either..."

That was when he saw her. The striking, snow white mane of hair that fell down her back, nestling at the small of it. "...well, hello there..." Corvo hadn't met too many ladies in Aincrad, let alone ones that were showstoppers the way this one was. The distance between the hem of her dress and where her hair ended left just enough to the imagination that, honestly, he figured he could do worse than haunting the same bar as she did. At the very least, the view would be nice.

Now, the best thing about safe zones in Aincrad was that you couldn't die inside of them. So when Corvo gripped the edge of the building and let his body fall over the side, the feeling of falling that rose in his chest only made his lips split into a wild grin. Added to his preexisting high, the new sensation started to drown out his pain, replacing it with visceral excitement. His feet danced against the outer wall as he slid downward, fingers barely finding purchase on a window sill or a planter, then clothesline as he plummeted toward the crowd. When he landed with a loud thud and each of his fingertips brushed the ground beneath him, he gasped unbidden, reeling from adrenaline and sensory overload.

"'scuse me," he muttered as he brushed someone aside, then elbowed another, "fuck outta my way."

When he made it to the doorway at last, the inviting atmosphere of the establishment was a far cry from the world outside. A longue, complete with crisp, cool air and dim lighting greeted him. It was the perfect place to escape from the loud floor just beyond the threshold. More importantly, however, he looked for the bombshell that had grabbed his attention in the first place. "Now," he took a cleansing breath, exhaled, and peered about the open room. "Where did she..."

The word died on his lips as he found her; but not just one of her. 

"Jesus Fried Chicken," he rasped hoarsely, clutching his stones for a moment as he brushed the last vestiges of bleary tears from his eyes. "I done died and gone to heaven. There's two of them."

The scents of incense and spice were only faint from so high up, but they were what had driven him there. Lhasri was pungent and vibrant, filled to overflowing with culture, art, and even music that bled deep into the night. Firelight rather than proper lanterns settled in over the cityscape, illuminating the figures of its citizens gyrating and undulating in time with the rhythm. He climbed to the apex of one building simply to escape the headrush that his surroundings gave him. 

Though Corvo enjoyed smoke and even inhaled deeply when first he arrived, after several long hours of exploration, the high was dizzying. His eyes still watered even after wiping them dry multiple times. One leg hung over the edge of the rooftop, he leaned forward and lazily took in the sights. 

He'd come to visit not simply for the beauty that was storied to be everpresent in Lhasri, but for the chance to visit something remotely like one of the many cultures and nations he'd studied deep into the night back home. The reality of it bled together with the fantasy, and though he'd hoped for a welcome respite, the sheer scale and realism of the experience had been more than he bargained for. Now as he stoked his pipe and inhaled deeply the poison that never seemed to manage to take the pain away, he felt his thoughts drifting to another world.

His parents had yet to give up hope. They could have pulled the plug anytime. Hell, the servers could have fluctuated and ended them without any notice. If there was a god, he still looked favorably down on Corvo. He told himself that mostly because it would have made his father happy.

But when he really faced his innermost thoughts, Evan couldn't conceive of a god who would allow this world to steal all of them away from their lives and loved ones. Not an Omnibenevolent god, at least. The people of Lhasri believed in a vast pantheon of gods. Some of those gods were good, and some were evil.

That made more sense than what he'd been told. It still made less sense than life being an amalgam of random, chaotic happenstance. And all of that made less sense than the discordant thoughts running at breakneck speed through his mind.

I need a drink...

Panic. Discord. Terror. 

The mighty advantage of mass confusion was a powerful tool when in the hands of a strategist. Unfortunately, the line between tactical genius and psychopath blurred in Corvo, who's sheer and blinding rage caused him to lash out and maim the ship itself.

Whether or not it had done a fine job of breaking the enemy ranks up or sowing confusion was irrelevant. What mattered was that someone was going to fucking pay for spoiling his wine. He fell unceremoniously through the floor that buckled beneath the force and weight of his strike, spinning through and landing with a thud on his back.

He bounced once, seemingly unphased by any fall damage that might have incurred, quickly recovering and brandishing the weapon once more, menacingly. Where was the bastard? Where was he?

The King's Crimson gaze scoured the room, finding first @Hirruand then @Jevi, both Player Characters, obviously neither the object of his ire. He looked then to the others below deck, the many pirates who scurried about like rats dancing to their Captains fife. These were the enemy.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the are tighter, readying the weapon to sunder the wretches.

"Rrrrrrr..." the growl, low and guttural, was the only warning he gave. Instead of waiting and communicating with the others, he lunged forward. With his heavy weapon and his own body weight, he shot like a missile toward the unfortunate pirates, with little regard for health or safety.

"RAAAAGH!"

Some time before...

"Black Tie."

Corvo leered down at the message with a curt shake of his head. "Thanks for doing literally what the game forced you to do, lets celebrate." What a concept! It was like the AI wanted to give them the realest experience possible, throwing them into the fire and then treating them as heroes, creating the ideal setting to exacerbate the already rampant Stockholm Syndrome. And now, the machine brain wanted to treat them like VIPs in the real world.

"Ties are for old guys," he announced to no one in particular as he made a snap decision about what to wear. If the game wanted to throw them a party, then he was going to fuckin' PARTY. But not because the game wanted them to. 

It was because no parties were about to happen without the King's Consent.

Present

Let's be honest, did you think that this guy of all people was going to do anything less than ostentatious?

The exquisitely woven silks and lavish gilded embroidery drew more eyes than some of the women's clothing, but it didn't seem to make Corvo any more modest. He snatched up a goblet filled with wine and sampled the flavor, eyeing it with skepticism for a moment before swigging it a second time just to be sure. "At least the server has decent wine varietals uploaded," he muttered, clearly not enthusiastic about the revelation. The fact that it was a Valentine's Day party made his stunning display of arrogance even more gaudy.

Corvo was alone and he was more than happy about it. In fact, Corvo had always been alone. Now he was just doing it better than everyone else.

If a perfect view of Ladonia below existed, it was from this vantage. Perched along the rails of the main deck, Corvo leaned with his back to the sky, one elbow draped over while the other hand lazily cupped his drink. His ruby gaze skimmed the masses, less interested than amused. How many of them had come together, looking to abscond from the dangers of Aincrad and indulge in their hopes for love and camaraderie?

His smile all but evaporated with that thought. "It's making the wine taste foul," he sneered, looking for someone to antagonize. 

Quote

 

"One of you, bring me damn Xandis.. and no one gets hurt.."

Well, that was easy. Sometimes people just painted targets on themselves.

"Unless, of course.. you don't care for their lives. I'll go through each one of them until I get what I want... then I'll go through all of you."

Before Corvo had the opportunity to stand up properly, however, another man decided to do it. The King's gaze moved to the staunch would-be defender and he listened to the man's words. "I don't know what you want with the Captain.. but this is a peaceful occasion. We won't let you hurt these people just so you can get what you want."

"Captain? Them? Psh, don't make me laugh... But you wanna be a tough guy eh? Alright.. I'll give you one free shot." 

 

Quote

Jomei would respond without allowing more than a second to pass. He would quickly close the distance on the large pirate, thrusting forward with his rapier. With speed unexpected for a man of his size, the pirate would parry Jomei's rapier out of the way with his axe before shoving the blunt tip into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Jomei stumbled backwards towards the railing, readying his weapon again. However, before he could act, a swing from the pirate would knock the sword out of his hand, sending it skittering across the deck. Planting a heavy boot against Jomei's chest, they would pin the ginger against the wooden railing, the only thing keeping him from falling to his death.

So, there were people with convictions in this world. The fact that their best efforts were made in vain neither surprised him nor disgusted him. Instead, Corvo had to offer silent respect. That was a trait he thought was left behind. 

Quote

No," Lessa cried, but her pathetic protest came out more like a helpless kitten's mewl. The sheer sound of it disgusted her, and that red-hot emotion seemed to melt her frozen limbs. With the sharp click of heels, the blonde approached. Not far away, another woman appeared to have the same idea, taunting the pirate captain with a smug smile before summoning a sword art. As the colors burst into existence, so too did Lessa's enormous sword. She gripped it tightly, prepared to swing, then watched the enemy easily side-step the brunette's attack. Lessa faltered.

"I wouldn't." The captain's voice, once loud and commanding, dropped to a low snarl. That, Lessa found, was far scarier. "Your boyfriend here might stand a chance against me." Feigning repulsion, he added, "Maybe. But them?" He motioned over his shoulder, to where one of his men pressed a blade to the neck of a young, terrified serving girl. She winced, and a line of crimson slipped down to pool at the base of her throat, uncomfortably reminiscent of the rubies worn by the partygoers. "If I were you, I'd drop that sword of yours."

Quote

 

And there were more than one of them! Corvo vaguely seemed to remember the face of this one, and the massive sword she conjured, but from where he couldn't seem to recall. More important was the valor on display.

Round them up and take them below deck. If they resist, cut a throat or two." His dark eyes danced as he scanned the gathered Players. "That should get our message across."

 

Quote

"Well then, what did Daemon, or any of us ever do to you?"

Quote

 

The Pirate master scoffed at the petite, blonde girl's question. "What did Daemon do to me, she asks.." he says to himself before ejecting his arms outwards to either side.  "THIS is what Daemon TOOK from me."  The pirate continues to scan his surroundings, not looking at the players, or the staff, but the ship itself with a disgusted scowl locked on his face. 

"They stole my ship, right out of the dock, and turned it into this.. This prudish cruise for the wealthy upper class." that disdain still ringing in their voice, he would spit upon the wooden floorboards at his feet. "Abandoned my crew in the middle of the night, abandoned ME.."  his expression would soften from anger, to contemplation.. confusion. The face of someone who has had this conversation with himself multiple times, and still cannot find the answer. "So now, I'm taking it back. And getting some revenge in the process." 

 

Quote

 

That would be unwise.."

A voice from below the deck would call up the stairs, as the figure came into view with slow steps. Captain Xandis would finally step forth to face this pirate, their long braided hair and coat gently picking up in the wind as they emerged into the open air. The gold embroidered, white jacket was slightly undone, and they now wore a longsword on their hip. "Adam. It's been awhile.. I would suggest not causing a scene upon the deck of my ship. My guests here are renowned adventurers and warriors, they could deal with you and your crew with ease. So lets keep this civil, no?"

"That's Captain Loughran to you...And that's up to them."  The pirate would glare at the players, "If they want a fight.. I'll give them a fight. But it'll be your people that end up dead if they try it. So here's my offer to you. I take back my ship, I take these servants as.. lets call it payment for emotional damages." he would say sarcastically with a low rumble of a chuckle. "In return, I let your friends here go. You, on the other hand.. You'll be coming back with me."  Loughran had closed the distance between himself, resting a large knuckle under Daemon's chin and lifting their face to meet his.

"You're a terrible man, and an even worse lover." they would respond before smacking his hand away from their face. Loughran's expression quickly changes from a cocky smirk, to one of rage. "Tie them to the mast.." Loughran would shout to his nearby crew. "You'll regret your decision to oppose me. I'll give you some time to rethink your decision.. before I start tossing your crew overboard. Their blood will be on your hands." 

 

Quote

As Daemon Xandis is grabbed and dragged towards the a mast in the center of the ship, they would whisper to any players nearby, "We need a plan.. quickly."

Quote

Jomei would run his hands through his hair, and paced once forward and then back towards a grouping of other players. "Any ideas?" he would speak softly, so only they could hear.

Quote

"No," came her knee-jerk answer, grief-stricken expression never wavering as she watched the bound captain. Half a dozen armed men surrounded the man, and though Daemon Xandis wore a brave face, Lessa could see his jaw clenching and unclenching anxiously. The NPC, who had never been anything but kind to her, was in genuine trouble. His people, the innocent Ladonians, were likely in a similar predicament below decks. They don't deserve this.

"I'm not sure if this is some sort of messed up event or what," Lessa muttered, words spouting from her lips like water from a faucet, "but it's honestly horrible. I'm so sick of these events causing the deaths of NPCs. Its cruel, and I swear, this floor has so many of them that I-"

Her head snapped up suddenly, blue eyes blazing as she met Jomei's gaze. "Wait, yes, I do. I do have an idea." With one hand, she motioned toward the stairs that led downward. "We can't do anything until the NPCs are safe. They're the bargaining chip here - we can't make a move while their lives are on the line." The lines of her round face hardened as she amended, "At least, most of us won't. We aren't willing to play hard and fast with them. But, if their safety is guaranteed, we could potentially plan a combined attack." Pausing, Lessa surveyed the handful of Players surrounding her, then gave a short nod. "We could take him, I think, if we worked together. But not until the NPCs are safe."

With a swoosh of cobalt fabric, she turned toward the staircase. "I'm going down to check on the NPCs. If I can incapacitate those guards, we'll at least open the doors to future attacks, right? And if I draw this Loughran guy down, then you can grab Captain Xandis." 

A sudden need for physical touch had her reaching for Jomei's forearm, and as she gave it a small squeeze, Lessa flashed him a grin. "I'll see about hijacking one of those smaller ships and loading the NPCs while I'm down there." She was only half-kidding.

Quote

The slowly fading screams of a man’s voice as they were tossed over the edge of the ship caught Captain Loughran’s attention. While most of the players saw the threat that the Captain and his crew posed to them and the crew of the Duchess, one female player decided they wanted to continue playing the hero. His features twisted into a face of rage, the sound of each pounding step with his heavy boots bringing with it a fear that he would step right through the deck of the ship. “I guess someone didn’t learn their lesson the first time.” The large Captain would allow the tip of his axe to drag along the ground as he stormed towards Yona, who had just finished dealing with a second of the pirates. “You! Girl! You’re going to pay for –“

Quote

 

Within a moment’s notice, everything shifted. Crates, tables, and chairs not secured toppled and slid across the wooden planks of the deck, some careening over the edge of the ship and falling to the city below. Everyone above deck seemed surprised, both NPC and players alike. Loughran stumbled, trying to regain his footing. “Who the hell is piloting this thing?!” he would shout at the top of his lungs, looking around at the others before turning his attention back to Yona. “Since you don’t like listening to instructions..” he would address her first before shouting over his shoulder to his crew below deck, “Kill three of the hostages!”

There was a silence that followed.

“I said – Kill three of the hostages!” he repeated.

“Adam!” a voice shouted from behind Loughran, causing him to take his attention off of Yona for a moment. Daemon Xandis, now free from their bindings thanks to the joint effort of two of the players, was walking towards the pirate, their retrieved sword at the ready. “Let’s dance, like we used to” they would say with a smirk before rushing at Loughran. The two began trading blows in the center of the deck, while the other pirates shifted their focus between their boss, and the players. "Don't just stand there, take them out! Take them all out!!" Brandishing their weapons, the pirates wore faces similar to kids being let loose in a toy store. Finally, it was play time.

 

It all happened as his mood deteriorated, more quickly as each moment passed. He took another sip of his wine, barely containing his outrage as the bitter liquid lost all appeal. Throwing the drink aside, splashing the deck with a rich and deep purple color, Corvo stretched out his hand. "Kill the hostages?" the blonde haired man uttered in a quiet voice, all the choler amassed beneath the surface like a volcano just before eruption. "You would make demand after demand of a King?" he asked, a sudden wave of irritation causing his voice to break slightly. His gaze fell on Loughran with unveiled contempt searing through them. "Fall on your knees and beg forgiveness, cur," the King seethed as the giant axe Reaver's Edge materialized in his hand, almost easily as though it were meant to be wielded that way.

"Mourn your indiscretion and repent, and I may find you fit to kiss my feet before I take your life."

The very thought that he could fall so deeply into the delusion served only to feed his rage.  Other Players had begun to lend their aid, distracting and hindering the pirates, taking the fight to them- but Corvo was not so tactful in his haze of brutal anger. Hostages were surging out, onto the deck. The throes of panic added a disharmonious chaos that made the hot breath streaming from the youth's nostrils turn to steam.

He hefted the great axe in both hands as he surged forward, and he brought the head swinging down to the deck with furor. Wood and metal shrapnel exploded up around him as the boards gave, sending an alarming amount of sharp and thick debris scattering in every direction. The weakened floorboards found difficulty supporting the weight of several nearby pirates, who lost their balance as the deck lost its structural integrity and gave beneath them. Corvo remained low and slowly hefted the axe again, warily looking for a victim.

They had disrupted order- and more importantly, his drink- and they would pay for it.

He caught the crystal deftly as it was thrown, despite not knowing what it was. He didn't glance at the menu prompt to find out, either. The words that this woman spoke to him were ice, and suggested that he was worthless. "Piss on that,"he hissed angrily as he swapped the item for a different one in his inventory, this time guzzling the conjured healing potion in a single swig. He would need every drop of health he could manage in order to survive this encounter. The last thing he wanted to do was die, but next to that, proving this person right was damned close to his top priority. 

He wasn't simply angry anymore. As his health climbed out of the bottom of the tank, he was malding. 

Minus, you know, the whole losing hair part.

"Now you listen here, you prissy bitch," he pointed his finger accusingly as he let himself get drunk on the momentary high that came with a rush of hit points. He would need that vigor to survive the next series of attacks. Fortunately, the self-appointed monarch had drawn the ire of the second boar. According to the damage he'd taken the last time, he could easily manage to make it through one more hit. One. No more than that, though. "I ain't backin' down now. Too late for that. No one worth his salt makes a commitment and breaks it." Was that a token of wisdom handed down from his father? Hell- seemed like not every part of him was lost, after all.

"Maybe it'll be on your conscience, and maybe it won't, but if you want to do something useful, instead of telling me to run, just help me make sure I make it out of here alive." 

As he moved to regain his composure and find his center of gravity, the boars came again. This time, his sway effected the beginnings of a dodge, and he managed to maneuver out of the way of the powerful attempt to gore his flesh. Thankfully, Corvo was able to hang on to those excess hit points. Maybe he'd be able to take advantage of them in the next encounter? Or maybe, they'd get him out of this alive- now, that thought was much less ambitious.

Ambition is my birthright, he silently reminded himself as he gripped the haft of the Battle Axe tightly. His knuckles were turning white. He watched as the other boar moved toward the second Player. 

Now, lets see what you've got, he watched, readying himself for the next attack.

[Recovery ID: 209337 CD: 12]

Corvo regains 1 EN from Recovery.

Corvo HP: 86/180 (+50) EN: 7/36 (+2)
NIAN | HP: 313/313 | EN: 7/46 | DMG: 16 | ACC: 5 | EVA: 3 | MIT: 36 | LD: 6 | PROSP: 3

84-12= 72×2= 144 damage

[0]Boar 9: 120/240 (-120) 84 damage (12×10= 120)

[1]Boar 10: 108/240 (-132) 84 damage (12×11= 132)

Boar 9 attacking Nian: ID: 209338 MD: 1 (Fails hilariously)

Boar 10 attacking Corvo: ID: 209339 MD: 4 (Fail!)

"Shitty drinks, piss poor conversation, and annoying edgelords. The trifecta," Corvo recalled in thrillingly boring detail the circumstances that surrounded their last meeting, brief though it was. But they hadn't exchanged names, not so far as he could remember. Just a dagger, one that he threw in the same lazy manner as the knife Corvo had just witnessed him loose."At least you did something," the red eyed rapscallion waved his hand dismissively. "That girl was all talk, and I was hoping for some action. Really killed my boner. But anyway-"

He forgot the face of the woman as quickly as he'd been reminded of her. So fleeting and irrelevant were most denizens of this world to him, precious few remained relevant in conversation for long. "Name's Corvo. I've been looking to branch out beyond the safe zone and get to killin' shit. Reckoned I'd look for someone to upgrade my equipment for the task, which is what brought me to your shop."

"Whatsay I make you a bet, Koga?" he sidled over to the counter across from the shopkeep and leaned against it. "We throw some sharp objects at targets. I win, you hook me up with some new equipment. How's that sound?"

Fuck today.

Those words hung in the mind of Corvo as he wandered through the paradoxically busy and lonely streets of the Town of Beginnings with a scowl plastered across his face. Hollow smiles and forgettable faces lined the thoroughfare as he was constantly reminded of how few people he knew, and how none of them could possibly fill the void left behind with his family, a world away. That had been the same mentality that eroded him for years, and even that tasted foul now. The worst part of it all was that today of all days, he couldn't just pretend that it wasn't painful. Tonia- his sister, the young, brilliant woman that she was- it was her birthday. And he couldn't even say how proud of her he was, let alone know how much she had changed in the time he had been gone.

What would his mother say? That he didn't listen, that he bought into this game, and that he now suffered for it without them? Had he become a man that would make them proud?

Certainly not.

"Fuck today," he repeated, this time audibly. He watched the people talking and getting excited, happy, upset, and sad- and he hated them for that wide range of emotions. Hate was the only feeling at all he could conjure. That was how he knew, he still wasn't ready. It was how he knew he still had to grow. But he was getting stronger, slowly. Even though he was alone- he had learned to sustain and be self-sufficient. He knew how to live without anyone else's support. It was the hardest, most painful lesson he had ever learned.

But it was the most important thing that Aincrad had given him, even at the cost of everything else.

He saw a small girl, frail, but sweet looking. She noticed his gaze and smiled at him, but Corvo averted his gaze. He looked for somewhere- anywhere to escape those thoughts. And his gaze fell on the first shop that called his name. A blacksmith- full of weapons and all sorts of devices for murder. "...or maybe today's not so bad after all," `he murmured as he quickly changed his direction and pressed through the door to the shop, leaving it swung open behind him. "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood," he sang boisterously as he made his grand entrance, "a beautiful day for a murder, would you be mine~ Could you be mine~"

His ruby gaze swept over the collection of wares, tools, and armor to stop on Koga- a face he actually recognized.

"Well if that ain't just the damnedest thing," he snapped his fingers and pointed at the man in one motion. "This day couldn't possibly get any better. Hey, mister blacksmith~?" he paraphrased another song as he strolled toward the counter and glanced toward where the other man had been looking a moment before. 

"Knifethrowing?" he questioned.

Mongrel, she says.

"Well, can't hate you for that," he shrugged. "most of the idjits in this place are delusional. At least we're getting someplace," Corvo clicked his tongue again as he shouldered his axe and admired the few seconds of violence-induced silence that her weapons had brought about. He wasn't dead yet, at least.

"Nine," he answered the woman's question without getting any more arbitrary or obtuse. There was no use in inflaming a situation that was already in flames.

It was evident that there was no danger of this person prying into his personal business. This made the woman precariously one of the few people in this world he could tolerate. No pretense of kindness, no united we stand posturing. It was likely their disdain was mutual, and that was the only commonality that he needed.

"As long as it's just about profits. My coffers aint as swole as I'd like 'em, and I aim to change that." He shrugged as another group of boars made a bee-line toward them, and he brought the weapon straight down in front of him, sundering the earth in their path to effectively split them and render their attacks uncoordinated. The furthest boars from the apex of the strike simply deviated from their course away from the duo and the attack summarily failed to strike them at all, but the two who were unfortunate enough to get caught in the blast...

Squeal! Shriek!

The first boar was indignant as the radial blast took its hooves out from under it and sent it sprawling to the dirt not four feet from Corvo. The second was caught directly in the path of the attack, feeling the full weight and strength of the blade as it ripped into the earth. Corvo wore a menacing smirk as he gripped his weapon tighter and began to pry it free, leaving the boars in disarray but the woman in perfect position to capitalize on the discord.

Much better, he reasoned, than risking four boars at once consistently.

The two that were very much not dead, but disgruntled licked their proverbial wounds by rushing headlong toward him and goring large chunks away from his HP. A fitting reprisal perhaps, but one that he'd called down on himself intentionally.

The swell of power that came with being struck would make a considerable difference in the amount of damage he could deal. His body swelled with power as the damage whittled away at him, and he felt the rush of adrenaline supercharge his muscles and pump his blood ever faster.

It had quickly become evident that this method of fighting... might not be sustainable for him. Not at this level, at least.

"Gonna have to slog a potion after that shitshow," he muttered indignantly.

[Recovery: ID 207295 CD 8]

Corvo regains 1 EN from Recovery

Corvo HP: 36/180 (-144) EN: 5/36 (+2, -16)

84-12= 72×2= 144 damage

[1]Boar 9: 120/240 (-120) 84 damage (12×10= 120)

[2]Boar 10: 108/240 (-132) 84 damage (12×11= 132)

"His Majesty?" he clicked his tongue once disapprovingly. "Aintcha a hair too pretty to be King of anything?" the blonde asked without a second thought. It hit him immediately thereafter, and he snapped like he had been gifted a stroke of genius. "Oh, I get it, you must be one of them types what dont identify with what hangs- or don't hang between yer legs. I get it, I get it, no worries, I support it. Live yer truth 'n all that shit," he flicked his wrist dismissively, like that was the least of his worries.

"But, ah, we're gonna have a problem if you don't wanna work with me on this," he chided. "See, you're pretty and all, but pretty don't pay my damn bills or put food in my belly," he peeled the axe from behind him one handed as four more boars made their appearance and bum rushed the two of them. "So, why don't the two of us cooperate and kill as much as we can, and I'll split the profits with you down the middle?"

With a powerful twist of his hips, the red eyed brawler brought his weapon spinning around his body toward the first Boar, which deftly hopped over the attack. The other three were less fortunate, and the weapon sheared through them multiple times, leaving them with with red lines that indicated the wounds as their health bars dropped frantically.

The attack it seemed, had been less effective than the one loosed by the stranger. That only served to infuriate the man, who's competitive streak left him inclined to want to put more enemies down than this self-important snob who called herself... himself... whatever- who claimed to be King.

Now, this was frustrating.

"Maybe, if you're lucky, you might get to see what a real King can do," he added with a wink.

Corvo HP: 180/180 EN: 19/36 (-17) 

Corvo activates AOE-I: 9 EN + (2×#targets) = 17 EN

AOE-I deals 10×9= 90 DMG

Boar 5: 240/240 (miss) 84 DMG

Boar 6: 150/240 (-90) 84 DMG 

Boar 7: 150/240 (-90) 84 DMG 

Boar 8: 150/240 (-90) 84 DMG

"...so they need help dealing with the town's bacon shortage, I get it. Bacon's important shit. I'd probably pay someone too."

The golden haired youth picked at his teeth with a fingernail as he spoke, not bothering to make eye contact with the young woman who'd gone out of her way to explain the situation to him. She frowned. "No, that's not what I said at all," she started to say, "boars. Lots of them. The quest calls for extermination, so-"

"Right, right. Kill boars. Make bacon. I get it," he repeated. She sighed loudly and threw up her hands. The part about boars appeared to have gotten through, but none of the words of caution seemed to stick as she spoke to the other Player. For Corvo, it didn't matter. Danger was to be expected, and if he wanted to get stronger, he would have to face it head on for himself. Calling up the massive greataxe from his inventory, the item appeared across his back as he made his way toward the first floor labyrinth.

"Hell of a place to hunt for pork, though," he complained. "Drab, terrible decorator. Complete mismatch from the theme," he gestured toward the rest of the first floor, which amounted to a lush prairie and mountains, and an overabundance of life. By contrast, the labyrinth was ostentatious in its defiance of that. A black, lifeless amalgamation of metal that opened up into a sinister dungeon.

Maybe it was to intimidate new Players.

Corvo liked his interpretation better. He always did. By the time he made his approach, someone else had made their way ahead of him. "Oooooh noyadon't," he hissed beneath his breath as the red eyed man picked up his pace and sprinted to the door before it could close, and slid through narrowly just as it slammed shut.

"Hey, I don't know if you noticed," he raised his voice, "but I was here first." Total bullshit. "The bacon belongs to me," he puffed out his chest slightly and jabbed his thumb toward it to indicate himself. That was when he noticed them. Lots of them. More than he was going to be able to handle on his own, if he continued with that line of thinking.

"Ah, what I meant was, the bacon is mine, but I don't mind sharing, since I'm benevolent and all that. So, provided you don't slow me down..." he let the words hang in the air as his gaze moved from one pig to the next, then back toward the other Player.

"Whaddya say?"

Corvo

Level 9 HP: 180/180 EN: 36/36

DMG: 10 BLD: 1 ACC: 3 RISKY: 8 Recovery: 1

In another life, this was exactly the kind of person he would have kept around. 

The social games that they played, the pomp and circumstance that followed with being regarded as higher class- all the things his family expected him to learn and comply with drove him toward these frauds. People who learned to hide their faces behind masks and smiled, even when they hated what they acquiesced to. Somewhere in this world, alone, aware, beyond the reach of pretense Evan learned that it was just that. A part that they played to adjust and conform. The other two were smiles and concessions- @Bismuth and @Astreya even laughed at the foulest joke he could have conjured. His jaw set for a moment as they continued to walk.

All of the conditioning and everything he'd learned had shattered like glass and lithified into resentment.

Hostility.  

The tools he'd forged to create bonds with others became barbed, cruel weapons for keeping them away. He wanted no part of conformity in this false reality, or with people who would not mean anything on the outside. If they even saw the outside again. Aincrad had taken everything from him. The only thing that mattered now was whatever he could scrape and scrounge back. The other two spoke about strength, about a newfound power that waited for them at the end of this soiree into the shifting sands. That was what unified them. It was the only common ground they needed, as far as he was concerned. If they wanted to claim power for themselves, if they wanted to take something back that Aincrad had stolen- that, at the very least, was respectable. He wouldn't balk at it.

Survival demanded that much.

The weapon shifted on his shoulder as she asked about it, and he turned his stern gaze to regard Astreya. "Doubt it," he said. Power scaled in terms of level and skills in this world. Even with preexisting talent, numbers were god here. The truth was, he'd always been small, a lanky youth with some strength, but ultimately not the thicker muscled strongman he wanted to be. In Aincrad, none of that mattered. He could heft a massive axe comically like it was nothing and spit in the face of his shortcomings. It was also his small form of rebellion. Whatever this world took from him, he would take back in whatever manner he was allowed. If that was playing out some Conan the Barbarian fantasy- what did he care what anyone else thought? "Feels damn good to swing it, though," Corvo shrugged. "And watching whatever I hit die, little by little."

He made certain that his diction was clear. People, monsters- it was a fairly indiscriminate wording. In this world, nothing was sacred. He'd slash through anything that got in his way.

"Too bad, though," he made a dismissive gesture toward the coarse grain that whipped wildly about them. "Can't just cut my way through a sandstorm."

Whenever people started to get too close, Corvo made a point of letting them know. The crazy started to come out. He didn't shy away from laying it on thick, either. His eyes gleamed madly as his grin widened.

The axe scattered into fragments as he unsummoned it. He hadn't missed the other player simply disappearing into the thick of the storm, and he trusted the situation even less than the other two- but staying alert and calling attention to the missing person wouldn't draw them into a false sense of security, if they did have grim intentions. And Corvo wished the motherfucker would. 

"...not into big weapons, izzat it?" he asked abruptly, shattering the tension with a quick, raunchy pass at the woman. His heart wasn't in it, certainly- but then, she wasn't the only Charlatan with some modicum of training in the art.

Sandstorm check:

ID:205291 CD: 6 [No Damage]