Corvo

He meandered over to a spot not far from the gates to the Town of Beginnings and copped a squat. His eyes moved cautiously over the open field that spanned practically as far as his field of vision and sighed. With a huff, he exhaled a cloud of smoke and pried the pipe from his lips. His eyes were glazed, but there was no one around to tell him that he ought to stop.

His mind wandered over days like this, lazy, filled with thoughts about the future and what it might bring. Back then, he was sat behind a computer screen messaging back and forth with his friends in an online game that didn't have he capacity to end his life. Friends that, apparently, existed in this world with him and hadn't even bothered to try to contact him. What had happened that they wouldn't?

Did the Captain care so little?

He shook his head as he noticed a spawn right next to him, and his hand darted out to seize the crafting material. "Well if it ain't just my lucky day!"

Yet again, the fates saw fit to deny him. 

He had not expected it to be easy, but he found himself frustrated with whatever algorithms or gods commanded RNG inside of Sword Art Online. He cursed that his life had an even more strictly governed system than before and packed himself a generous pipe of tobacco, ignited it, and began to inhale habitually. Part of him wondered if he would take the habit back to the real world with him, while the other part of him was just glad to have that familiar burn on his tongue.

"Man, I miss South Carolina," he muttered to himself as he scoured the countryside for flowers. 

He felt so compromised. The life he had before was spent admiring blades, ogling beautiful women, and practicing the martial arts. Now, he was reduced to a life where the phrase "I studied the blade" was no longer ironic or a thing of memes. The virtual world was a horrible place, and he had no friends here. It was incredibly lonely, and he hated it. 

So, it was going to be nice to get back and chat with Zachariah.

"Nah, it's fine." he waved her off and largely let her words fall where they would. He knew exactly where she was, hung up on things with her ex. Probably better than she did, because Alkor wasn't good with anyone, let alone girls. He didn't even know where to begin feeling sorry for Mari in that regard. But, he wasn't about to broach the topic again.

For Corvo and Mari, he was a topic that they shouldn't discuss. At least for now. Not while the wound was fresh. Not while she was healing, and while he was still hurting from the loss of a friendship he thought meant more.

"I think I'm tired after all that goofing off, honestly," he said. It may have been a lie, but the cure to some awkward situations was bringing them to an end. "Probably gonna head back to the inn I've been staying at and catch a good, long nap." It wasn't quite the excursion he'd had in mind several minutes before, but now, Corvo didn't really want the company..

"I hope things get better with those assholes. Maybe you'll get things figured out before we talk again. If not, well, you managed to message me once, maybe you'll manage to do it again."

He let out a bedraggled moan that sounded almost effeminate as she struck him. His body appeared to quiver, and he caressed himself in both arms to punctuate the ridiculous nature of his antics. If one didn't put on a show, could they really ever call themselves masochistic? Well, sure they could- they just couldn't use it to mess with anybody.

"Oh YEAH," he growled, shooting a wink toward the orange haired woman. "You really did hit me baby one more time." Corvo cackled. "I'll pay for the service, if I must. What're you charging?" he asked. Then, he leaned extra close and whispered, "I bet you could use some-"

Right before the word could come out of his mouth, Mari brought the topic back round to the Captain. He clamped his mouth shut and backed off, heaving a sigh. "Y'know, you edge me real good then you drop me to flaccid in an instant when you talk about that guy. Its a real buzzkill," his voice had gone almost flat, almost monotone. "I get it. Its tough to move past someone who never really gave you a chance to move on. But just because I used to know a guy, do I really have to keep hearing about him when the topic's really fuckin' sore?"

Just when he thought there might be something, the shade of Alkor loomed. Mari was great- and for a second, he almost wanted to take her right over to the inn and give her a routine check up: but the mood soured just as quickly, and he was reminded that this girl had a force field he'd never penetrate.

Friend's ex. Ex-friend's ex. Even more awkward.

The reality for Corvo was that he wanted his character to be so far departed from the person he actually was, this world wouldn't know anything about who he really was. It stole his face,  it stole years of his life. He wouldn't give himself over to it. That was whybhe sucked on the pipe so religiously. It was his small, stupid form of rebellion. Even Aincead couldn't take that away from him. So, when someone showed an inkling of kindness, it unnerved him.

Because for all the foul words that he said, for as vile as he got, on the inside, Evan was a compassionate person, and he found kinship with others who were kind. Corvo wasn't- he couldn't let it show, not to anyone, especially not to Mari- but he didn't hate this woman.

"Don't try too hard," he warned. "Pretty sure I can see smoke coming out yer ears."

He watched with far too much interest as she adjusted her clothing, and leaned forward to see just how much he could see. Before she got a chance to catch him in the act, though, he bolted upright and ran his fingers through his hair. "Honestly, I'd worry less about what other people have to say or think and worry more about giving them the slaps when they deserve them. Ain't no one saying you can't, and they won't learn shit if no one corrects 'em."

Whether or not he agreed they should be corrected, Mari deserved to know that just because he wasn't wrong didn't mean she was. People's egos were fragile, sure, but that wasn't a license to treat others like dicks. There was a fine line, and a slap didn't cross it.

"Try not to get the chillin's too excited with all that slapping, though," he winked. "I admit, I had a good time imagining it."

"Mmm mmm," he shook his head vehemently as he gagged on the smoke he had only just begun to inhale. The ensuing coughing fit stalled his next words for several seconds before he finally completed the thought for her. "Nope. No way. Advice ain't in my wheelhouse, sugartits. 'Specially not unsolicited advice. People tend to get real mad when you try to tell 'em how to live, or  criticize them in any way at all. Perspective, though?" 

Corvo took a deep breath to cleanse himself, eyes shut. When he exhaled, he let out a throaty, elongated "yeaaaaaaah. Now, Perspective I've got for ya all day." The foul-mouthed firebrand leveled a single eye on the lass as he returned the pipe to its rightful place in his jaw and began to walk once more, arms crossed behind his head now. "Regarding the ego, for instance. Ain't more sore a topic for a man than to hear he's second rate. Don't matter if you're sayin' his dong is small, or even if what you're saying is true. The ego is so important to these people that they forget what matters. Cult of personality, and all that."

He paused for a moment to reflect. There was a bitterness about him that wanted this world to end, but for Corvo, that didn't measure up to risking his life. He was no different from those people with fragile, misguided morality. When it came down to it,, his self-preservation far outweighed his desire to help anyone free themselves from Aincrad.

And for that reason, he wouldn't speak in condemnation of them.

"...for some folks, their ego's all they've got, y'know?"

When he fully realized how dense she'd been about his flirtation, he blinked once, slowly. Corvo wasn't in the business of repeating himself because someone was slow on the uptake, so either Mari wasn't buying what he was selling or she flat out had too much on her mind. Either way, he exhaled quietly through the edge of his lips and discarded the silliness. It was his favored weapon, that wit, and yet it served no purpose with someone who was too far receded into their own thoughts. 

If she'd meant it, how would he have responded, though? Was he actually interested, or did he only flirt with her at face value? It was always hard for him to tell where the face began and ended. Evan had decided long ago that Aincrad didn't deserve the real him. Not like Alkor, not like someone who wanted to be someone else, but as someone so offended by his situation that his only response was self-preservation by constantly remembering, constantly holing himself away and being reminded of a family he couldn't go back to.

It was his blessing. It was his curse. Yet, for a moment here, he connected with this girl, just as spurned by his own friends as he was. Maybe it wouldn't have been bad. Maybe they could have done something, one time, two times. Would it mean anything?

Did anything?

His thousand yard stare answered her question as he lit up his pipe and took a long, deep hit. "The hardest part for me has always been pretending I do care," he admitted. "Maybe about my friends, I do, but people who don't respect me, who can't value my friendship, those ain't friends. They don't deserve to make me hurt." He blew out a plume of black like a dragon, tendrils of smog roiling from his nostrils. "So if there is something you care about, if there are people who deserve that, then they're going to take the time and give you the patience you deserve. That's how family and friends are supposed to be. That's how I was raised."

He finally looked her way, and for a moment, she seemed like the kind of pretty that would give him pause.

Then, he glanced away..

"You have time, is my point. If anyone expects you to be up to snuff straightaway, fuck 'em."

"Nah, don't bother. If he can't be fucked to reach out, I got nothing to say to him."

Really, it was open and shut. The captain had never been a talkative guy, and Corvo and he only got along in small doses. Arc had been the outgoing one, the glue that kept everything together while Alkor led the pack against impossible odds. The brains, but definitely not the face of the party, or the motivational speaker. With that in the past, it left the crow to his own devices. Aincrad was a new beast, but it had all the different primal aspects of the old ones. Stats, levels, skills...

What made it better, really, was the company. "I got nothin' if not my memory, babe," he chided her gently, "and lemme tell you, when I'm real lonely, I'm glad I remember you." Corvo shot her a quick, flirty wink as he walked past her and started along the path. She wanted to walk and talk? Walk and talk they would.

"Too bad I don't have anything extra special to remember," he called back over his shoulder. "I'd keep you like one of the best secrets. Anyway, whats on your mind?" he asked.

There was a fire in the pit of his gut when she said those words. He tried to ignore them, but he was already ignited. Anger, the fouled kind of anger burned under his skin and boiled his blood. One of his friends was in that world alive and hadn't even bothered to reach out. It was bad enough hearing that he'd died. He'd been able to digest that, slowly, but the bile that lined his throat when the facts came back, Alkor was alive?

Years of their lives had been wasted in this world. He wasn't the gamer that the others were, he had a family and a life outside of SAO. He had grown to resent some of his very best friends because they had badgered him endlessly until he finally spent the money and resolved to play the world's first VRMMO, and now, here he was. He had almost forgiven the Captain.

Now, he never would.

Or maybe, she was lying. 

Who knew with people in this world. He learned early on that no one could be trusted. Was she any different? Was she just someone else inside this world playing at victim? A spider with a man in her web, ready to envenom him and peel the flesh from his bone? He had so many trust issues, now.

"I don't want to talk about that," he said flatly.

"This ain't about me, no need to make it that way. I'm glad to hear that you haven't got any particular death wishes, because it'd be a god damn shame to lose that fine ass of yours. It's one of the few truly beautiful things in this God forsaken world."

He said that with such blunt, humorless honesty you'd believe his conviction came from on high. 

"Yes!" he proclaimed triumphantly as he plucked another flower carefully from the ground, and a window appeared in front of him. Only one more of these to go, and he could get back to Zachariah and on track to finish this quest. He was especially amped to get himself moving and stronger so he could see what else this game had to offer. The Town of Beginnings was boring and while he could find practically anything he wanted to survive, he wasn't really living.

He doubted that anyone in his family would be proud of him if he spent an entire two, three years doing absolutely nothing. They wouldn't be proud of him for being trapped inside a video game either, but he would have to cut that loss because it was unavoidable now anyway. "Alright, now..."

Corvo stood up tall and took a better look around. There were plenty of open, grassy areas he could search, but he didn't want to waste any time.

The next few minutes were bereft of flowers. Perhaps the lack of spawns reflected some refresh in the system, or the emptiness in his own mind. Strange thoughts like that plagued him as he treked along a set path, hugging the Town of Beginnings as he waited for something to pop up. 

When it finally did, he pounced. Were quests always this nerve wracking? 

I wonder if the others have all struggled this way. There was a pause before he laughed. Who cares if they did or not? This struggle is mine, and they're not here to help. If I reached out now, could they ever take me seriously?

There was the Captain, Alkor... but he'd never reached out. What did that say? And Mari-- he could probably call out, but he knew she wasn't in any clear headed place, either. No, the best thing to do was forge ahead alone. 

He could face all those questions when he was as strong as they were. And they'd have to give him answers. Right now, no one owed him anything.

Another flower appeared, but it seemed his mind was not in it, because he failed again.

But, he'd get the next one. He was starting to get his head in the game.

It took him a few minutes to collect his thoughts. The urge had been there to strike her, but the chivalric upbringing his father had beaten into his mind was at war with feral instinct. Aincrad brought out the worst in some people, and for Corvo, that was even more true. The urge to fight, that unbridled bloodlust, who he was behind the mask of "Corvo" would always be at odds with the person he made the ultimate decision to become.

This world didn't deserve an Evan. This world didn't deserve to ruin a good man. This world deserved to burn.

In the end, she was gone. Whatever vicious sentiments he had were like dust in the wind, because the likelihood he would ever see her again was abysmally low. Even with a handful of people trapped inside Aincrad, only a few were ever truly going the same place. Unless he saw her again on the front lines...

....as if he'd ever get there himself.

How many people had left him in the dust now? How hard was it to climb the ladder, if this wasn't even the very bottom rung? Corvo exhaled sharply through both nostrils and grabbed at the stem of another flower.

This wasn't going to deter him. Nothing was going to stop him from becoming the person he knew he could be, and someone that he, his parents, and his friends would ultimately be proud of in the end.

Even if I have to spill a little blood along the way.

And the flower gave, adding another material to his collection.

He moved toward another node for collection and as he crouched, he overheard the sound of giggling and laughter nearby. When he followed them to their source, he saw two female Players leering down at him as they headed back toward the Town of Beginnings. "Is he doing that quest?" one asked.

"What a newb!" the other cackled. "How far behind can you get?"

"Apparently pretty far!" the first girl noticed Corvo glaring at her and smiled. It wasn't a kind thing, he had seen people give that sneer before. It always meant they were looking down from on high, scowling at you as though you were a lesser being. "You need some help?" she called over.

"No, thanks," Corvo replied. His fingers slipped, and the material was ruined. Even if he hadn't meant to show any weakness, the system apparently noticed his lack of focus.

"You sure?" she asked, grinning. "It looks like you're having a bit of trouble with that. If you want-"

"I said I'm fine, miss," Corvo replied with a bright smile, uncharacteristic of his ratty garb and dirty looks. She blinked. "If I want your help, I'll ask for it," he told her.

"Well, that's just not nice," she chided. "Here I am being kind-"

"Oh, hell with that," Corvo shot back, finger jabbing through the air at her as he found his feet underneath him. "You're having a go at me and you know it. You wanna help me? Get out of my face and let me do this quest in peace."

"The nerve of some people!" she huffed, red in the face. Her friend stared at Corvo, stunned. 

"What was that?" she asked.

"He's got problems," the first girl shook her head. "Come on, we've got things to do and we've wasted enough time here.

Corvo smiled quietly to himself as they disappeared from view.

It seemed like the second attempt had given him a sudden stroke of luck, because as soon as he plucked the first, the second appeared visible in his HUD not ten feet from where he was. Corvo hurried toward it and crouched, remembering what he'd learned from the first couple of tries.

When he pulled it free, it glowed gold and disappeared into his inventory. "I'm getting the hang of it," he told himself as he glanced around, careful to take stock of his surroundings. He almost rushed head first into an encounter with a boar, but managed to see that coming with only seconds to spare.

Today wasn't the time to rush directly into combat. No, for now, he'd get used to how the system worked and start familiarizing himself with the intricacies of non-dangerous interactions before he rushed head first into anything that might get him killed.

He wasn't afraid by any means, but in a world where fighting was crucial to survival and death was a very real possibility, one could not take too many precautions.

"Okay, that's two," he counted his inventory, then referred to the quest log. "Looks like I'll need three more before I can go back to the old man's workshop and move on."

He took a moment to clear his thoughts and let a deep breath fill his lungs. There was clarity to be found in the freshness of clean air, and he exploited that to full effect. The toxicity of his thoughts seemed to fade away as refreshment purged his mind, and the dagger wielder took a moment to orient himself.

"So, I'm right outside the gate," he murmured as he surveyed the first floor. "That means the closer I am, the safer I am, relatively speaking." It wasn't strictly the case, but there were less mobs nearby. He saw the occasional boar, but if he stayed far enough from them, they paid him no mind.

"And the appearance of these nodes for collecting is pretty randomized..."

As he said those words, he spotted another not too far off the path. "Perfect," he said as he moved quickly toward the grassy area and knelt down. "Now, this time if I focus..."

Corvo did his best to pick at the very bottom of the stem, and the system seemed to respond to his efforts. Almost like knowledge that he had, translated into how the system dictated his success or failure.

He recalled something about how your skills outside Aincrad had some effect on the skills you had in the game. Who had told him that, again?

He moved toward the first plot of grassy land that indicated he could gather. The skill went from gray to accessible on his HUD, which made identifying it that much easier. Corvo crouched next to it as the system sent his body through the motions, and he became acutely aware of the process. 

For this particular type of material, a flower or herb, the practice was to find the base of the stem, close as possible to the roots. Once identified, you gripped it tightly and pulled until the roots came free and ideally, the material would be sent to your inventory as a success. Unfortunately, that was not the first experience for Corvo

Somewhere in the process, something went wrong. He felt give, like the plant had ideas of its own about being ripped from the soil. He quickly attempted to loosen his grip, but to no avail. The stem snapped about halfway up, and the material was ruined.

His attempt was a failure. "Well, no one starts off good at anything," he snorted. "Better get on to the next one."

He said that, but Corvo was immensely frustrated. It felt like a slap in the face for this game to take so much from him, but not at least give him something so simple in return. It was just a flower, wasn't it?

Nothing in this life comes free. He remembered those words, and in a familiar voice. With a sigh, he took that stern, yet loving reminder and tried to find comfort in it.

He emerged from the workshop, stretching himself out. What a strange old man, and yet, he understood better about what he needed to do. Corvo spied a few Players watching him, waiting for him to pass before they approached the workshop for themselves. He cast a long glance over them before he turned his attention toward the gate.

"Fuckers," he muttered under his breath.

Corvo hated people like that. Fear was a looming shadow, and uncertainty cast it recklessly. People who had no reason to show fear, feared things they had no reason for fearing. Education and knowledge were the gateways toward a mind free from shackles, but there were those who would rather live in chains than cast them off. 

That was the real evil about this world of Aincrad. People made decisions about who they were, and in many cases, people chose to live as thralls to their vices. Even he'd fallen victim to that. He accepted that he was no better, but...

...now, they were judging him for it. As he dragged himself through the gate, he could feel their eyes lingering on his back. Corvo grit his teeth angrily as the constraints fell away, and the safe zone was behind him.

"Focus," he told himself. "Five materials. Just five. Then, go back to Zackariah."

"You look tired, son," the older man gestured toward a chair. "Have a seat. We'll talk business in just a second. Would you like some tea?"

Corvo held up a hand, though he did accept the invitation to sit. "No, thank you," he replied, "I don't want to bother you too long. I'd heard you were helping people find their way, and I thought it was about time I dug in and tried to start on mine."

Zackariah smiled as he poured a hot glass of tea for himself and took the seat across the table from Corvo. "It sounds like it took you a great deal of thinking to come to this point," the NPC said without looking up at him. "So, you've probably come to the decision that you know how you want to move forward, you just aren't sure of how."

Corvo nodded. "About that, yeah."

"Well," Zackariah closed his eyes and stroked his beard sagely. "Yes, that's appropriate. That will suffice. I know what I'll have you do. Are you ready?"

Corvo leaned forward. "That was quick."

"If you really hadn't done the soul-searching already, you wouldn't be here, right?" Zackariah gave a chuckle. "But of course, you already knew that. What I need you to do, is to collect some materials for me. Five of them should do the trick." 

"Gathering materials," Corvo repeated.

"Yes, you have a skill for that, don't you?" Zackariah gestured toward Corvo, and his status appeared seemingly on command. The gather skill was faintly illuminated by gold light. "Find an appropriate area in the world to interact with and this skill will become available to you. There's a slight margin for error, but generally, you should be able to find something. If you're incredibly lucky, it can be something very nice. For now though, we'll focus on gathering items to be used in crafting."

Corvo nodded and stood. "Yes sir," he said, and accepted the quest.

Word around the Town of Beginnings was, if you wanted help, you looked for this guy named Zackariah. The NPC was your standard, starting off Quest Giver, a kindly old man who just wanted to help people find their way in the world. If you followed the clues, or just the crowd, you made your way to him without much of an issue.

Finding Zackariah didn't cause a Player to leave the safe zone, even if his quest inevitably would, so for the most part it ought to be cut and dry. Corvo liked the idea of a simple start, especially after spending so much of his time confined to the bottom of a bottle. Truth was, he still felt pretty worked over by life.

None of them knew what Sword Art Online was when it started. He'd only intended to play it behind the backs of a family that didn't want him anywhere near those types of games, and only for short periods of time. Nothing he read in the manuals or the criticisms prepared him for spending an entire chapter of his life inside virtual hell.

Then, the Captain and the others were alive. For a short time, the Vice-Captain had reached out, but even that faded into obscurity. The friends he'd joined to be with in spirit and enjoyment, had all but abandoned him. Corvo was a man drowning in bitterness.

That wouldn't stop him from waking up angry. 

Black bags under his eyes told the tale of fitful sleep. Corvo dragged through the alleyway toward where the NPC kept his workshop. He heard whispers and saw signs of disgust in the Players who passed him, all focused on his bedraggled state.

Perhaps they'd become so used to this world as it was, so austere and drowning in the survival of the fittest, they weren't prepared to see someone claw their way up from the depths of hell. They were all survivors in their own way, but how many of them had truly succumbed to madness?

The proud few, weren't pretty anymore.

His dingy smirk was met with kindness only when he greeted Zackariah.

"Hot stuff, I don't give a damn who's mean to me. People are always goin' to dislike the way I act, because I don't care enough to change. I got friends- some of them gone, some of them waitin' on the outside- but they don't judge me. Those people are the ones that matter." 

He reached up with one hand to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "There you go again, thinkin' you're gonna get anywhere with that strong silent s***. Didn't get him nowhere, ain't gonna get you any further. Don't think about throwing away your life. That ain't doin' nothin' for no one."

He looked up now to her cursor, close to his face. "If yer thinkin' anything's gonna change before you show some effort, the people trapped in here with you ain't gonna let you forget. Some of them won't even let you forget after you've put forth that effort. Killin's killin, no matter how good your intentions were. That don't mean you gotta die- hell no, honestly, dyin' spits in the face of all those people you killed. You wanna make good with them, you gotta do something incredible. Save some lives. Make a difference."

He shrugged and turned away. "But what do I know?" he laughed loudly. "Nobody in this place means nothin' to me. None of my friends are here. The ones that are died or disappeared."

@Mari

He turned when he heard her voice and shot a pair of finger guns toward the orange haired woman. "Wouldja lookit that," he bristled. "Ain't you just a picture of sexy?"

The red haired riot let out a barking laugh as he shook his head and turned back around. What a woman. Too bad she was wasted on some dead guy with no libido. He would have loved to take her over the rock not five feet away and-

Nah, Corvo stopped himself. Just because he had spent hours in a shower thinking about it didn't mean it was right. He had to remember what he learned as a kid, about propriety and...

Pshaw.

"Nevermind that. I just wanted to make sure you was doing alright, since you messaged me outta nowhere. Thought you were gonna turn right around and make me the confidant for your suicide note, so I wasn't about to stand around and ignore messages. You're looking a little bit more upbeat though, so I'm not worried about that anymore."

Wonder what's got her so cheery...?

@Mari

It had been too long since he heard from that pink haired bimbo. Corvo worried about her health, but she let depression swallow her whole. During his time outside Aincrad, he knew too many people who fell into that trap. He knew there was a limit to what he could do for them, and he wasn't wasting the energy to try to force feed them better life practices.

The reality was, people had to make those decisions for themselves. It seemed like Mari was trying to reach out, which meant she might be ready to do just that. Unfortunately for her, the psycho with scarlet hair wasn't much of a confidant.

He was, however, great at parties. Sometimes all you really needed was something to get your motor running. A little liquid life, perhaps, or a rooster to make your night.

Something like that.

Anyway.

Corvo brought up his messenger and typed out something for Mari.

Frustrated with the first miss, Corvo launched himself upright and forward, racing toward the beast in an attempt to bring the weapon piercing downward into its snout. Unfortunately for the redhead, the creature had no intention of standing still for such an attack to land.

His blade shied wild of the pig's face as it reared back and planned on a reprisal of its own. He dodged out of the way narrowly and without much grace, attributing his sluggishness to a lack of skill inside the system itself. Later, he would go back and see about different ways to invest his points to increase his agility, his hit rating, and of course, his overall lethality. He'd always played the Rogue Archetype in games like this.

He wasn't sure how he wanted to do it this time, though...

Hey, was that woman paying attention at all? Was she going to leave him there alone with the boar if things went south? He wondered about that. It was in the back of his mind, of course, but then, things hadn't gotten any worse...

...or better.

"Okay, Baron von Bacon," he seethed toward the monster that had robbed him of several precious points of health. "It's your turn."

He rushed headlong toward the beast with the blade held low, and he pulled the weapon forward and upward in an attempt to catch it under the shoulder and across the gullet as he passed by. Unfortunately, his aim wasn't quite what he imagined it was- maybe, probably, because it was a game avatar and not his real body, and certain things were determined by programs and algorithms.

He did notice, there was no pain when the beast raked its tusks triumphantly across his torso and left streaks of red data streaming away from his body like lost blood. There was no feeling of excitement as crimson streaked down his body, there was no sensation to make him regret the loss. It was like the ultimate game of chance.

If you win, you win big.

If you lose...

Well, he didn't plan on finding out. The woman seemed to be finding her materials well enough- two of five, if he remembered properly and had a good count. It was probable she wouldn't even need his help- but he had offered, and he wasn't going to back out on her now.

He gripped the grass in his free hand and stumbled across the ground, regaining his balance. His HP meter had taken a bit of a dip, but in all, he was still in the green. That was a good thing.

For now.

@Krysta

"Oh, it'd be my pleasure," the scarlet haired youth grinned as he unsheathed his weapon and immediately scoured the area for sight of anything that might yield some results. There was never a shortage of Boar on the first floor, and you could always count on finding one if you strayed just slightly off the path.

Of course, that wasn't an option for the same reasons the girl had stated. He wasn't strong enough to handle more than maybe one, two if he got extremely lucky, at a time. That was how Aincrad got people. Hubris, and stupidity. Dumb luck, too, but that was less of the time.

The dagger now in hand, he headed for the first sign of pig. "Alrighty, let's dance, porky!" he proclaimed in all of his indignity at the first chance he'd had to spill... blood? Data? Whatever, in a good, long time.

It brought back memories as he sank low and angled toward the beast on an approach vector. How would combat in this world differ from his real world experience?

He was about to find out.

@Krysta