Kisodeth

The further Kisodeth ventured, the more the cavern seemed to twist in on itself the walls narrowing, the passage warping just beyond the reach of her vision. A trick of the light? Or something worse? The dim glow of phosphorescent fungi clinging to the stone cast wavering, ghostly shapes across her path, shifting as if they were moving just beyond her perception. Then, the sound. A low, rhythmic murmur…chanting. Kisodeth’s steps slowed, her muscles coiling with tension. It wasn’t the wind. It wasn’t the cave breathing. It was voices. Layered. Muted. Coming from one of the tunnel

The cavern stretched before her, a yawning abyss of rock and shadow. The low-level light barely scraped the edges of her vision, turning the jagged walls into shifting silhouettes. The deeper she went, the thicker the air became damp, cool, carrying the earthy scent of moss and something more acrid beneath. Kisodeth clicked her tongue and ran a hand along the rough stone, using it to anchor her path. Each step sent the quiet echo of her boots bouncing off the walls, swallowed by the overwhelming silence. “Koko!” Her voice carried forward, but there was no answer. Only the lingering q

The entrance of the cavern swallowed her in darkness. Kisodeth took a slow step forward, the dim glow from the outside world barely reaching past the threshold. The air was thick, damp, and humming with something unseen. She didn’t need to see it to feel it. A shudder in the air. A rush of movement. Something diving straight for her. A Giant Bat. Kisodeth reacted instantly. Her hand moved on instinct, Winter’s Discontent flashed from its sheath. She couldn’t see it. Not the exact motion of her blade, not the precise arc but she didn’t need to. Her muscles knew the rhythm. Her instinc

The goblins struck first. The one on the left lunged with a jagged dagger, aiming low; a feint. Kisodeth caught the movement in the corner of her eye, but she didn’t fall for it. Instead of dodging back, she stepped into the attack, twisting Winters Discontent in a reverse grip and slamming the pommel into the goblin’s wrist. Bone crunched. The dagger spun from its fingers. Her knee snapped up…right into its face. The goblin reeled back, black blood spurting from its broken nose. It barely had time to cry out before she drove Winter’s Discontent straight through its throat, the

Kisodeth moved with steady purpose, her eyes flicking between the map tracker and the terrain ahead. Urbus had already shrunk into the distance, leaving her surrounded by rolling hills and rough, uneven paths. The sun was sinking low, casting long shadows…good timing. Nightfall meant fewer players clogging up the area, less competition for kills. She wasn’t looking for a fight. But if something got in her way? She’d clear it out. A thick, chittering hum drew her attention first. Up ahead, a cluster of giant ants skittered across the path, their glossy black carapaces gleaming in

Kisodeth moved through Urbus with purpose, weaving between carts and bustling groups of players, her ears tuned for anything useful. The first info broker she found was a rat-faced player loitering near a weapons stall, arms crossed over his chest, eyes shifty but sharp. He grinned when she approached, already smelling a deal. “Caves? Oh yeah, I’ve heard a thing or two,” he said, rubbing his fingers together in the universal gesture for payment. Kisodeth cocked a brow. Not happening. Instead, she leaned in just enough to make the guy uncomfortable, letting the looming aura

What else do I need to know?” she asked, crossing her arms. “How long’s the kid been in there? What kind of monsters are we dealing with?” Choshi visibly swallowed, rubbing her hands together. “I…I don’t know exactly what it was. Koko’s friend was too scared to say much. Just that they were attacked out of nowhere, and they barely got away… but Koko wasn’t fast enough.” Kisodeth clicked her tongue. That meant no guarantees on what she’d be facing. “Fine. One more thing…” she tilted her head, voice casual, but sharp. “What’s this ‘something’ you’re offering me for my trouble?”

Kisodeth let the silence stretch for a moment, letting Choshi’s sobs settle into the evening air. The NPC’s hands were still trembling, clutching at the fabric of her own dress as if trying to physically hold herself together. Then, with a measured breath, Kisodeth gave her answer. “Yeah, fine. I’ll get the kid.” The change in Choshi was instant. Her red-rimmed eyes went wide, her breath hitched, and within seconds, her face blossomed into overwhelming relief. “R-really? You will?” she gasped, hands pressed to her chest as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

Kisodeth stepped onto the second floor of Aincrad, the rugged, stone-built town of Urbus. A fortress of cliffs and craggy pathways, it loomed around her, its towering structures etched into the very mountainside. She was just a breath away from hitting level 11 a handful of experience short of breaking into Tier 2. That meant better stats, better equipment, and a new level of power. For now, though, Winter’s Discontent and Death’s Embrace would get at least one more mission’s worth of blood. The only question was… what quest? She barely had time to take her second step into town

Thread Summary: TWC: 7565/10=756*1*1=756 EXP Col: 400, +3 Materials Quest Summary: 800 EXP, 2000 Col Tierless Perfect HP Recovery Potion T1 Perfect [Trinket of Choice] ( 2 Quality, 1 Prosperity) A restorative fish entrée that helps restore some spent vigor. (5x) T1 Rare Vitality Consumable (Snack) Chest Reward: 8 Materials, 150 Col, 2 Rare Unidentified Potions, 1 Perfect Unidentified Shield/Armor Total: 1556 EXP, 2550 Col, 11 Materials Thank you!

Kisodeth had slept like the dead. The kind of sleep that swallowed you whole and refused to let go until the body demanded otherwise. The sun was already dipping toward the horizon when she finally stirred, her breath slow and even as she blinked the world back into focus. She hadn’t moved much through the night arms tucked close, body curled in on itself but now she stretched languidly, her spine arching, limbs reaching out like a cat soaking in the last rays of warmth. A deep exhale, her muscles unwinding with a satisfying pull. The soft glow of early evening bled through her windo

Kisodeth dropped a few Col on the counter to settle her tab, nodding at the barkeep before pushing off the barstool. A deep, satisfied stretch rolled through her shoulders as she loosened the tension built up from the day’s grind, her arms lifting high before she let them fall with a sigh. The night air was cool and quiet when she stepped outside. The streets were thinning as players and NPCs alike retired for the night, their lantern-lit windows casting soft glows onto the cobblestone. The long day weighed on her, but her steps remained steady, purposeful, as she made her way back to the

After a long day of chasing debtors, fighting swarms of boarlets, and hauling a chest out of a lake, Kisodeth decided she’d earned a proper meal…not just something materialized from her inventory. The moment she stepped into the local tavern, the atmosphere felt charged. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, buttered bread, and spiced ale. The low hum of laughter, clinking tankards, and the occasional bardic melody filled the space, creating a warmth that contrasted the cool Aincrad evening. Kisodeth slid into a seat at the bar, catching the barkeep’s eye. “Hungry,”

Kisodeth stepped out of the mayor’s office, stretching her arms above her head as she took in the twilight settling over the town. The quest completion notification pinged in her HUD, and she flicked through it with idle curiosity. “Huh,” she mused, scrolling through the unexpected haul. Between the loot from Pete’s soggy treasure hoard, the experience bump, and a handful of unappraised items, she had come out of this with far more than she’d bargained for. Not bad for what started as an errand run for some incompetent NPCs. Finding a nearby wooden bench, she dropped onto it with a s

Kisodeth strode back into the mayor’s lavish quarters with her usual confidence, though there was an unmistakable air of exasperation in the way she tossed the fish-stinking letter onto Dorian’s pristine desk. The mayor recoiled instinctively, his monocle nearly slipping from his eye as he eyed the damp, grimy parchment with pure disgust. “Good heavens, what is that stench?” His fingers hovered over the letter as if it might bite him. “Your long-lost loan,” Kisodeth replied flatly, arms crossed. Dorian swallowed hard before gingerly plucking the letter between two fingers, his n

Kisodeth stood over the weathered wooden chest, hands on her hips, appraising it like a particularly stubborn opponent. She gave it an experimental nudge with the toe of her boot; solid, but nothing a little force wouldn’t fix. “Go on, it’s yours,” Pete grumbled from behind her, arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold with mild amusement. She didn’t need a second invitation. With a sharp exhale, she reared back and delivered a powerful kick to the chest’s rusted latch. The impact sent a jarring crack through the air as the old wood splintered apart, the force of the blow popping

ID: 24235 | LD 12+3=15 Success!! Kisodeth strolled onto the wooden pier, the scent of lake water thick in the evening air. The boards creaked beneath her boots as she approached the rugged old fisherman at the dock’s edge. He was in the middle of tying off his weathered little boat, hauling up an assortment of traps dripping with lake water. Like the last two men she’d dealt with, Pete sported a long, bushy white beard. Kisodeth narrowed her eyes slightly. “You guys all from the same mold or what?” Pete didn’t even glance up as he secured the last knot. “Hah! You here for fis

The rhythmic clang of metal on metal filled the air as Kisodeth stepped back into the smithy, her boots scraping against the soot-stained floor. Lyle barely spared her a glance before setting down his hammer, wiping the sweat from his brow with a forearm thick as iron. Kisodeth pulled the tusks from her inventory with a flick of her fingers, letting them drop onto the counter with a hollow thunk. “There. Told you I’d handle it.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. Lyle gave the pile a scrutinizing look before nodding gruffly. “Good quality. I use these on hilts,” he muttered, pluckin

Kisodeth exhaled slow, steady, as she surveyed the pack of boarlets. One more tusk. That was all she needed. But why stop there? This wasn’t just about a fetch quest anymore. This was about sharpening the blade. She rolled her shoulders, flexed her grip on her sword, and then…she struck. A single clean slice. One boarlet fell. Another lunged at her, she sidestepped effortlessly, brought her blade down, and split it in two. A third tried to retreat, but she was faster. She closed the distance, boots pounding the dirt, and drove her sword straight through its side.

The little bastards weren’t just running circles around her anymore…they were attacking. Kisodeth ran her hand through the dark tendrils of hair, the braids falling into place. A few rogue strands framing her phantasmal paint. Her knuckles whitened in her gloves, the leather crunching as she bore down on the hikt of her massive blade. Bump! One rammed into her shin. Thud! Another headbutted her side. Squeal! A third caught her from behind, the force barely making her stumble. It wasn’t damage she was worried about it was the sheer humiliation of getting bullied by a mob of overs

The moment Kisodeth closed in on the next pack of boarlets, they didn’t wait for her to make the first move. With high-pitched squeals, the tiny beasts charged. She sidestepped one. Then another. Then… “¡Mierda!” a third rushed between her legs, making her stumble. Her arms flailed, and in a completely undignified moment, she landed flat on her ass. The boarlets, emboldened by this accidental victory, began running circles around her. Kisodeth let out a growl, pushing herself up, her pride stinging more than anything. “You little—!” Instead of drawing her sword, she li

The field was quiet save for the occasional rustling of grass and the soft, high-pitched squeals of the boarlets rooting around in the dirt. Kisodeth let out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders as she sized up the first group. “Tch. This feels wrong,” she muttered, watching the tiny creatures blissfully unaware of their impending doom. Still, a quest was a quest. She tightened her grip on her sword and activated a sword art. In a blur of motion, her blade carved through the pack, their health bars obliterated before they even had a chance to react. The system barely had time to

The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal echoed through the forge as Kisodeth stepped inside. The heat was stifling, the air thick with the scent of burning coal and hot steel. Behind an anvil stood a grizzled old man, his hammer coming down in steady, practiced swings on a half-formed blade. His long white beard, streaked with soot, twitched slightly as he exhaled through his nose, casting a sharp, uninterested glance her way. “I’m busy,” he grunted, his voice as rough as the iron he worked. Kisodeth didn’t even get past opening her mouth before he waved a calloused hand dismissiv

Zachariah barely looked up from his latest bubbling concoction when Kisodeth stepped through the door, but the moment she dumped the gathered materials onto his counter with a distinct lack of grace, his eyebrows shot up. “Ah, excellent! You work fast,” he said, rubbing his hands together. Then, with a knowing smirk, he added, “Though judging by your expression, I take it this isn’t about a newfound love for alchemy?” Kisodeth folded her arms, expression dry. “No. It’s about a certain absent-minded mayor and his missing col. Got anything useful, or am I handing over rare roots for ch

Kisodeth approached the broken shrine, its crumbling stonework half-swallowed by the wilderness. Vines curled around the weathered pillars, and moss crept between the cracks like time itself had been trying to erase whatever this place once was. It was quiet…unnaturally so. No players. No mobs. Just the distant whisper of the wind through the ruins. Her sharp eyes swept the area, scanning for gathering nodes. Untouched. Good. The player’s tip had been solid. But before she moved in, she paused. The shrine reminded her a little too much of the Monument of Life back in the Town of