Mishiro

"watch it--"

oh, this one is real.

"i'm sorry," she turns in the direction of the voice and quickly apologizes, but as her sights land on a sharp-eyed woman, so does the other take notice of the hooded individual who had stopped her. recognition flashes through the stranger's face, then returns her displeasure as she turns to her and forces out courtesies as though at knife point. a party request.

the hooded individual is silent throughout the interruption.

(and if she had recognized it with a single glance, then nothing was really wrong, was it...?)

she nods her assent after some thought, her expression unchanged. first impressions aside, it isn't fair to trouble the other player to return another time for the few seconds that she had found the npc first. "alright. let's go together."

"both of you, then," the entity interjects in a light voice. it rearranges itself to now include the second player in the conversation. "i'd be willing to provide you with that information for a price. let's say..." a gloved hand raises to level with its collar, two of its fingers pointed upwards. encircling its wrist is a silver bangle with a woven design. "twenty-five percent of the bounty. i guarantee you would not find your mark without my help."

(this is unavoidable.) “fine with me. now, can you tell us?”

"the guardian never leaves its throne. look for a grotto to the west of yogan where you'll find a pair of iron gates. and be ready for a fight: they're guarded."

a status window appears in front of the two, displaying an accepted quest from a [mysterious broker] without their input. 

she closes it. "noted, thank you." but the quest in her progress log was all she needed. she starts to move past the entity, preparing to signal her quest partner to follow, when a question suddenly catches against the back of her mind. something about the events of the past minute or so, invisible like rot beneath floorboards. she struggles to define it, but the wrongness roots her to the ground, persistent, with the subject right in front of her eyes. "will you be coming with us?" she tries. "how will you know when we've killed it?"

"i'll know."

it bids them farewell with a little wave and slinks back into the crowds.

still clueless, she turns to her quest partner, quickly going through her terminal to send a party request. "ready to head out?"

"you... want an assist from me?" disbelief colored the merchant's tone, her voice pitching upwards at the end of every word as though each one of them was its own question. "i've been... it's new. i just put the sign up the other day." she had started to drum her fingers against the wood of the counter again, a dull, unobtrusive sound. her nails were cut short. "um, normally, for half the col equivalent of the shop hours i'll miss, i can tank anything from a tier two or lower quest. i'm lower tier three -- and um, obviously, a tank."

"there's an exception."

"er, yeah! if it's something i haven't cleared yet, i won't make you pay! it's, like, a 'you scratch my back and i'll scratch yours' deal at that point. i'm learning and gaining as much experience as you are, so."

in the space between her words, her white brows knit into a thoughtful frown. "it's more than enough. 'cause i want to get stronger, too."

she would do just fine, mishiro thought. the air between them was more subdued than it had been yesterday. adjusting herself to a more comfortable position (which was an ordeal, given the state of... everything... in the shop), she began to explain to an increasingly curious merchant girl the full details of her current situation.

a corpse is talking.

Spoiler [ ] STATS: Spoiler LEVEL 23: HP 460 | EN 64 | DMG 19 | MIT 36 | ACC 4 | AA | EVA 1 | FLN 6 (6-8) | VO 10% WEAPON: RAPIER V + STAMINA + PRECISION + FEROCITY + ST SPECIALIST -- COMBAT MASTERY: DAMAGE III EXTRA 1 + 2: FIRST AID V + ADD-ON: FIELD MEDIC; 3: SURVIVAL (total sp: 115 | used: 99 / unused: 16) EQUIPMENT: walpurgisnacht T3E4 WEAPON (RAPIER). CURSED, FALLEN, VAMPIRIC (OFFENSIVE), ABSOLUTE ACCURACY dioscuri T1E3 JEWELRY. ACCURACY III white cloak T3E3 LIGHT ARMOR. MITIGATION II, EVADE

@SYL
SYL: Forgot to ask before you left.
SYL: If you pass by F9 today, could you pick something up for me?
SYL: [Crystal of Support]
SYL: 2 enemies, west of Yōgan. Drops from the last one.
SYL: [kgrh29sha.docx]
MSH: /

floor 9 was the last place she would ever put in her agenda but sibyl asking her for a favor is rare. much more if it entails any level of combat. so, the rapid-fire pings from her terminal do give the woman pause, hardly twenty minutes away from their house, floating between disbelief and an almost childish amount of elation. she stops along the side of the road to aruyt and very quickly skims through the attached document, noting fermata's tags at the header. the breakdown of the quest is thorough, but the overall length is short for its simplicity. it simply asks players to kill a guardian.

and with sibyl, would she ever have answered differently?

@SYL
_{--> @SYL: If you pass by F9 today...}
MSH: i am. just one thing -- is this really the third time i've heard about f9 being terrorized by a respawning mob recently?
SYL: The recurring threats love to party in hell.

a teleport crystal shortens her journey to said 'hell' to an instant. once she's blinked off her dizziness, the player pulls on her white cloak and heads for the dry markets in search of the quest initiator. she follows the flow of the crowd, lavender eyes sharpened to scan her surroundings. it's peak busy hours for this area and dozens of aincrad's artificial entities mill about, bumping into the distracted player, transacting at stone-fronted stalls with local delicacies and wares on display, voices conversing in an unknown language creating another layer of ambient noise. she's lost for a moment, and then -- a tap on her shoulder.

she turns to meet a hooded man, the white screen of its own terminal vanishing at its other hand.

"are you the one that accepted the quest to kill the guardian?"

or, a woman?

"i am," the player returns, perplexed. (just follow the script.) "tell me where it is."

@SYL
SYL: You can take them though.
SYL: Stay safe. Remember to bring a teleport crystal.

thread summary.

Morningstar
+ 4,330 exp | 2,500 + (523 * 7 * 0.5)
+ 5,100 col | 5,000 + 100
+ extra skill: assault mode

Pinball
+ 4,592 exp | 2,500 + (523 * 8 * 0.5)
+ 5,100 col | 5,000 + 100
+ extra skill: assault mode

Oz
+ 2,761 exp | 2,500 + (523 * 1 * 0.5)
+ 7,950 col | 5,000 + 100 + 2,850
+ 4 materials
+ terra firma scale (3)
+ Tier 4 Rare Trinket (1) | [228541]
+ extra skill: assault mode

Mishiro
+ 3,284 exp | 2,500 + (523 * 3 * 0.5)
+ 5,100 col | 5,000 + 100
+ terra firma scale (1)
+ extra skill: assault mode

"oh, no, no," mishiro starts, apologetic, "i meant the extras that were looted from terra firma, not the quest reward. i think i'll keep mine. oh, but..." she switches to addressing pinball before he could open a trade. she wouldn't covet the excess if there was someone else who might have better use of it. "can you hold onto your scale instead? i'll just take it from you later."

sometimes the system logs show a trade from one player's inventory to another when an item is physically handed off. sometimes it doesn't. it is inconsistent. mishiro does the former and makes a mental note to herself to check when they get back to pinball's manse. as the other transaction occurs, her eyes glance between her companion and the unknown third person who seemed familiar with him. "well, this is where we part ways, too. thank you kindly for the help."

the group disperses.

with nothing else to kill the remaining time, she and pinball were free to indulge in their love for long walks. the events of the last hour are nudged to the back of her mind at first, as she simply appreciates the silence that falls between them and her other's presence at her side, but soon her curiosity overtakes her. she nudges pinball, then takes him by the elbow, leaning close and whispering even though they were completely alone: "who was that person? the one in red..."

the entire body comes crashing forward, the flaming jaws of cerberus' last head chasing pinball. it misses.

she doesn't give it another chance. (maybe, in an objective sense, it's almost inconsequential. does she care?) her hand is tight around her weapon's hilt. from the side, the player approaches and winds her blade into position for a sword art. target locked -- the system carries her off like a bolt, carving a lethal strike through the hound's throat.

the entire body falls, the three heads reduced to wriggling stumps. she lands on one knee, shoulders dropping at an exhaled breath. then she rises, spins around, her eyes empty as she watches the beast's death throes.

why isn't it -- oh.

a single step forward brings her close to a semitransparent screen. she taps on it, absorbing a portion of cerberus' [soul] as the injured broker had asked, one for her and one for pinball, and their opponent is finally given rest. in a few hours, cardinal will bring back a stronger duplicate, but in this moment, peace reigns amid the death heat of the cavern, and across from pinball, the glimmers of cerberus' remnant data lights his other's conflicted expression. "i thought that was..."

no, he didn't need to hear that. not now.

"that was two out of three." she quickly sheathes her blade and turns from pinball, walking them back to the entrance of the cavern. at least there is sincerity in the faint smile pulling up the corners of her lips when she glances over her shoulder to address him. small triumphs. "let's turn this in and take that break, shall we?"

-> combat: st-i vs cerberus head #3 [cerberus slain]

are you looking for that appraiser, dear? an old woman stopped her before she could pass the closed shop by. mishiro's eyes went upwards to the yellow cursor floating above its head. go right inside; she doesn't turn anyone down no matter the hour.

the last thing she expected, then, was for said merchant girl to barge into her own shop and immediately accuse her of thievery. the last thing she expected, following that, was for said merchant girl to let out a high-pitched gasp as soon as their eyes met and immediately bow her head and apologize.

perhaps this was also a point lyudochka wanted to emphasize: the common people of aincrad were going insane, thus the necessity of pushing the frontlines.

"no, i'm so sorry," she said robotically. duck fluff white hair tied together in a ponytail slid down her right shoulder. her bow was a near-perfect 90-degree angle and she was staring at the floor. it appeared distressingly well-practiced. "you've never done anything wrong in your life. it was all me. please just take the stuff and leave."

mishiro's head was spinning from the incongruence between 'thirty seconds ago' and 'now,' and she felt as though half her soul had left her body from the earlier scare. she didn't dare touch the trinkets. she crossed one arm over the other, started hesitantly, "if i just... took everything without paying, wouldn't i really just be stealing, then?"

"no!" the merchant girl, still red-faced, straightened. (loud, she was loud.) she had more left to say, but her red eyes landed once again on the selfsame wares she had just been about to hand off for free. they were all expensive, the most precious of their respective piles. her mouth shut and opened and shut, and something changed in her eyes when she turned them back onto mishiro. it didn't spell out any negative impression, nor was it particularly intense, but.

mishiro awkwardly dug her fingernails into her elbow and avoided meeting the other's gaze.

"i meant, no, yeah, you're right! i'll tally it all up right now." she babbled. and she marched past her, taking her place on the proper side of the counter. she worked at a confident pace, in an unexpected departure from her awkward demeanor, her fingers blurring across her calculator without second-guessing as she picked through each item at a time. once bundled up, the transaction window switched sides. "now pay up, and please get out."

she did.

"'m fine."

she keeps walking, her eyes trained on the ground. had she given him any reason to ask? she mentally sifts through the events of the past few minutes but doesn't turn up anything in particular.

"i just need to finish this."

and i could maybe use a lighter cloak.

true to pinball's word, it doesn't take them long to reach their destination. the journey was relatively painless compared to the last one but that was because it wasn't the point. the real danger waited ahead. at the brink of it, they slow to a pause for a moment (or she does, and her shadow doesn't leave her) and the woman raises her head to take in the full size of the mouth of the cave. at least they aren't diving into the pitch black -- even from here, its interior is lighted by the fires raging further within. she shuts her eyes and takes in a long, deep breath. when she reopens them, she's already felt out her connection with her sword. "head straight for cerberus. i'll clear out the small fry."

they're clearing this today.

she sets off in a brisk walk and soon hastens her pace when she finds her bearings. the passageway is straight and wide enough to fit a full party, or rather a gargantuan three-headed dog, and indiscernible sounds echo off its walls. sword aglow, she fixes her sights on an opening further ahead and disappears down the passage, leaving a trail of light behind her. four massive hounds stalking about the entrance of the larger cavern within raise their heads in unison at her approach, but before any of them could do anything past baring their teeth in aggression, she had already cut them all down, turning them into shards.

the way is clear.

in the middle of the cavern, all three cerberus heads turn in the player's direction and howl in rage.

-> combat: aoe-i vs hellhounds 1-4 [4/6 hellhounds slain]

shale, screen your worry, from what you won't ever find.

Spoiler [ NOTE: this is a flashback thread taking place three years in the past. let's just handwave the continuity errors with mishiro's weapon- ] STATS: Spoiler LEVEL 22: HP 440 | EN 62 | DMG 19 | | ACC 4 | AA | FLN 6 (6-8) | VO 10% WEAPON: RAPIER V + STAMINA + PRECISION + FEROCITY + ST SPECIALIST -- COMBAT MASTERY: DAMAGE III EXTRA 1 + 2: FIRST AID V + ADD-ON: FIELD MEDIC; 3: SURVIVAL (total sp: 105 | used: 99 / unused: 11)   EQUIPMENT: walpurgisnacht T3E4 WEAPON (RAPIER). CURSED, FALLEN, VAMPIRIC (OFFENSIVE), ABSOLUTE ACCURACY dioscuri T1E3 JEWELRY. ACCURACY III

not long after the transfer, lyudochka called her over to headquarters.

let’s make a habit of this, she said upon receiving her at her tea table. the last pair had gotten away with speaking almost exclusively through messages, apparently, and she had found the level of detachment disagreeable. she had incentive prepared: a slice of cake, even though mishiro would have come without it. i’ve read through your files and i have my own opinions from personal observation.

i’ve identified two points of focus: you lack experience, literally and numerically, and all those years as a crafter left you isolated. your first assignment, then, is to find a quest we’ve documented in our library -- any quest -- and complete it with a player outside of our guild. be ready to deliver a verbal report in a week.

cue the troubled student, a day later, sliding into a merchant girl’s empty shop.

her eyes linger on her companion.

"...mn."

after, then. there is a point where they would have to wait out the second quest's spawn timer and she can't imagine doing so in the middle of a volcanic field. she's dignified in this kind of suffering. she shakes her head sympathetically at pinball's complaint, doesn't offer anything more.

best not to dwell on it.

and she follows.

they walk in silence, closely matching each other's pace. scarcely a few steps outside of yogan, and the land breaks into adjoining parts, narrow and wide, a peninsula of islands amid flowing rivers and pools of magma. heat presses down on them from every direction and she can't stop herself from glancing down whenever their path takes them too close to its source. forcing her steps gentle, so that she doesn't slip. has anyone ever fallen in--? at what point does [survival]'s protection just stop working?

the maze is only a small part of their journey, and soon, they are back on unbroken land. she continues to keep a close eye on their surroundings, her attention slightly divided. she tries to recall everything they had discussed, written, and retrieved in the previous days. cerberus' mechanics and abilities, its pack of flaming hounds. fermata's layout of the cavern. knowledge can determine the outcome of a fight before it even begins and she strives to have as much of it as she could. even back then, in that single high school tournament.

they see knorilt in the distance.

she can't remember a single thing.

the quest completion window appears in their individual views after a few moments delay.

she had been staring emptily at the sand where some of terra firma’s shards still lay scattered, hardly cognizant of the loudest individual of their group celebrating the intactness of his hat, when the screen flashes before her eyes and pulls her back into focus. she studies it, almost disbelieving. this was… too easy. abdullah didn’t even want them to come back.

their rewards are 5,000 col, conveniently sent through the quest system, a single scale that they can each take from terra firma, and a learned skill.

she rejoins the group last, sheathing her blade. without an established dynamic, the question of how to wrap things up gracefully hangs over them and she has a vested interest in concluding this business as fast as possible. pinball is hovering near them like a dismal shade, his orange cursor even more evident outside the heat of combat, and she hasn’t -- she has more or less settled, that the fairest action is let him handle it and step in when necessary. hasn’t quite extinguished her own unease of her answer. “now we settle the loot,” she suggests, turning her head up to speak to their de facto leader. “i’ll pass, though. it’s the least i could do to repay you for dealing the most damage.”

"you're in for a tough fight."

they had agreed from the very start that information gathering, among all other things that had to be done in the safe zones, would entirely be left to her. it was a task she was rarely stuck with, if she were ever given any orders outside of the usual script at all, but fermata, as a guild specialized in the free exchange of information, liked to ensure that it is at least part of its members' basic skill set. so, she had found the broker without issue. conveyed to the only clinic in yogan from knorilt village in order to receive better treatment for its grave injuries.

"but knorilt -- has been living in fear of that beast since it awakened. too many casualties in the past week alone," the broker continues, even-faced despite its condition. it peers over the map she had handed it, circles a small area further south of knorlit, "cerberus roams the lands around the village, but your best bet is the infernal cavern. should you defeat it, take out its soul and show it to me. your efforts will receive fair compensation."

she takes back the map and rolls it up. "i'll meet you at the village, then."

she doesn't need the map, not after pinball had already found the cavern in a previous version of the quest, but the item is necessary for the system to prompt her acceptance of the quest itself. and it doesn't ever hurt to check. excusing herself with a polite nod, she proceeds to the building's exit, passing a nurse carrying a tray of medicine on the way.

outside, the air is thick and heavy with heat. the skies above are dark, the sharp-edged buildings populating the streets even more so. if there is a day/night cycle in floor 9, its residents could only glimpse the barest hints of it from beneath the ashen clouds. she does not dwell on the conditions of this place so much, other than trying to recall what else it has to offer to her outside of this quest chain. every floor has some return value in the form of a respawning field boss.

pinball is waiting for her outside the gates. stealth down, cloak partially off -- a rare sight outside of his manse, these days. [survival] lessens the discomfort some, doesn’t stamp it out entirely. she sympathizes, but she keeps her own (heavier) cloak tightly clasped around her neck and shoulders. “i picked up the quest,” she says as she nears him. “so we can skip out on knorilt entirely and finish this all faster, i hope. unless you wanted to stop by for a break…?”

she follows his gaze into the distance, silently weighing the necessity of her next words.

“i’ve never really been here before.”

a corpse is talking.

Spoiler [ knorilt. knorlit. knorilt. knorlit. knorjkldhglkz ] STATS: Spoiler LEVEL 22: HP 440 | EN 62 | DMG 19 | | ACC 4 | AA | FLN 6 (6-8) | VO 10% WEAPON: RAPIER V + STAMINA + PRECISION + FEROCITY + ST SPECIALIST -- COMBAT MASTERY: DAMAGE III EXTRA 1 + 2: FIRST AID V + ADD-ON: FIELD MEDIC; 3: SURVIVAL (total sp: 105 | used: 99 / unused: 11)   EQUIPMENT: walpurgisnacht T3E4 WEAPON (RAPIER). CURSED, FALLEN, VAMPIRIC (OFFENSIVE), ABSOLUTE ACCURACY dioscuri T1E3 JEWELRY. ACCURACY III

all evidence of their skirmish, or that they had even been there at all, will soon be buried by the storm.

mishiro, pressing her back against the inmost wall of the cavern, lets herself slowly slide downwards until she hits the ground. she hasn't let go of sibyl's rapier since. hadn't returned it to its sheath when the battle was done, hadn't quite realized what she was doing until they found shelter at the overhang. so, she does it now, detaching the longer sheath from her belt and sliding the bladed half back in. she sets it down beside her, strings side up, her wrist delicately balancing atop its hilt, and she wraps her other arm around her legs as she draws them close to her chest.

she can't stop her fingers from trembling.

it's over already!

she digs her nails into the side of her thumb. she feels the bite of it but the system dampens all sensation of pain. for one, twisted moment, her psyche dwells for too much on that gap and nothing feels real.

she has to stop this.

"pin...?" the voice that escapes her is high-pitched, forlorn, so different from her restrained tone -- and she cuts herself off, surprised that she had even spoken at all. she doesn't stop watching the storm. a moment passes, and she finds her next words in a direction adjacent to her thoughts. "thanks for earlier. you're good at this... at fighting, i mean."

she hadn't witnessed most of it, but she had seen how badly he and zamek were surrounded before she was attacked. and yet, he had been the one to come to her aid.

"i feel safe with you around."

i wish i didn't need to.

they know they are nearing the destination when zamek starts to hobble faster. it gets a considerable distance away from mishiro, who had been matching its pace all this time, before she also speeds up or rather -- resumes walking normally, to her great relief.

"ah, here it is." it had called the rock formation unique, but with her lack of knowledge of things in the desert, she could not differentiate its appearance from the rest of the structures they had passed. beneath it is a patch of softer ground, which the npc drops down into, digging with its bare hands.

she doesn't offer her help. she merely regards the small wooden chest it uncovers with mild interest. "these belonged to my late wife," zamek's voice trembles with emotion as it takes out a stack of parchment bound together by a string. letters? "as did these." jewels. "between the bandits that frequently raid our village and our greedy family members, i knew my most valuable items would be taken from me. that's why i hid them."

mishiro watches, silent, impassive. then she remembers that she had rarely seen her companion interact with npcs, given how little there are outside of safe zones, and she peeks at him to see if there is any change in his face.

"but the years are passing, and so i want my dena with me as the end approaches." zamek places the items in its lap and doesn't stand. it's dissolving from its fingertips, mishiro realizes, and light is beginning to pass through it. a gentler erasure, before cardinal brings it back to take another pair on a quest again. "thank you."

what a long spiel. perhaps it is meant to tug at a player's heartstrings, evoke in them a compassion for the artificial entities dwelling in this castle. but she finds it insulting, in a sense, that cardinal can even presume to relate with them in any way.

lyudochka deserved to die in the world she loved, too.

soon, zamek is no more and they are finally alone.

a quest completion window appears in front of her and she silently confirms her rewards. she gives pinball a nod, then she turns to her skills tab to equip [survival]. a small glow of accomplishment blossoms in her chest upon switching to her overall stats and seeing its first change in years. "one out of three," she breathes.

-> sandstorm: 228542: CD 8

"..."

at half hp?

"we're fine."

the greatsword's blow had sent terra firma sprawling, the agile beast unable to so much as twitch a muscle as it lands in front of their fourth member. it is a perfect opportunity to land that strike they were waiting for and he squanders it, approaching the beast without raising his weapon. he pats it down, circles around it, and opens its jaw and puts his head between its teeth?

mishiro hovers nearby in an almost open display of concern, unable to attack it lest she jolt the thing into dropping its jaw straight into their troublemaker's skull. "no," she tries, placating. the girl herself is out of the enemy's reach should it start to move -- she follows her own advice, "but i'm certain no one will forget this."

terra firma is back up before she can continue. luckily, the player is slippery enough, and she's quick to snap herself into a stance and rush forward to aid his retreat. her rapier snags the bottom of its jaw where its armor doesn't reach and a status effect flashes beneath its hp bar as the system starts running the numbers for damage.

weakness found.

she pulls her sword back in haste.

"got it! everyone, steer clear of its next attacks."

now they wait for it to rage.

-> combat: st-i vs terra firma. [triggered weak spots.]

the remaining two are furious. alone in the middle of a sandstorm, she had looked like an easy target but now their companion is dead. their attacks embolden. she tries to chain her sword art onto the second spear wielder, but against her expectations, the bandit doesn't care about taking a hit. she does. the blood in mishiro's veins turns into ice. another moment of indecision locks her into the system assist and directly into the weapon's path.

and then -- a dagger through its back. another takes out the third. pinball lands halfway down the dune and mishiro races up to meet him. "zamek," she gasps; she notices the absence of their third as soon as she draws close. if anything, she can't forget about why they were here in the first place. she shifts sibyl's rapier to her other hand and grabs pinball's arm, her grip tighter than she had intended, and she steers them back the way they came.

zamek is pale-faced, trembling, ahsan's scimitar against its throat. zamek is unscathed and ahsan is barely hanging onto a sliver of hp. a short distance away from them, the vague shape of a horn lies half-buried in the sand. they can barely see each other through the dust in the air.

mishiro drops pinball's arm.

"no sudden movements," the bandit chief's voice booms over the sound of the wind, "and do exactly as i say or your friend suffers the consequences."

she can't cross that distance. pinball can't throw his knives faster than it would take ahsan to kill zamek.

"you will drop your weapons and back away slowly--"

she has no sympathy for these creatures.

"--you will not stop walking until you reach the end of the desert bloom's territory--"

but they had already come so far.

"--and should you follow these conditions, i will release this man unharmed--"

if they let it out of their sight for too long, zamek will simply vanish and cardinal will materialize another copy of it -- all the way back in fortaleza.

"now, move."

if she were to back away now, she would be discouraged again and nothing would change. everything would slide back into stasis.

mishiro breathes out slowly. she takes her parrying dagger out of its sheath. she moves her hand further down her rapier's hilt to press down on its strings. raising her own sword to her neck is not a usual sign of aggression, but it is strange enough that ahsan digs his scimitar deeper into zamek's throat and yells. "you, over there! i said put down your--"

the flat of the smaller blade slides down the violin's strings, and a single clear note slices through the air.

ahsan's grip on zamek loosens. it falls backwards. its corpse hits the ground in two separate pieces.

all told, it would not have killed its captive unless they were pointing their swords at it themselves. it was outnumbered, outmatched. it was negotiating for its survival. it was not going to relinquish the only advantage it had.

ears ringing, mishiro lowers her dagger.

“i can't do that again. let’s get out of here."

-> sandstorm: 228350: CD 9

in the distance, the horn sounds once again.

she forces another sword art. a mind connected to a body connected to a weapon feels the soft warning tap as it knocks against the absolute limit of its abilities. the wild, uncontrolled burst that comes out clears half the two bandits' hp and allows her to break away. lurking behind, the third begins to shout in a different tone.

heart racing, she skids further down the slope, the bandits following in hot pursuit. a single hit takes out a third of her hp. a third. they're scaling off of pinball and he isn't here to deal with them. she can't fight them while they're on higher ground and she isn't confident in her ability to outmaneuver them. she can't shake them off either. her only option is to bring them down with her and hit them hard. less than a few meters before the bottom, she tosses a glance over her shoulder and clears the rest of the distance with a swift leap, landing a ways into flat ground. the sand crunches beneath her shoes as she spins.

she catches a glimpse of the first spear that comes for her but the system has already acknowledged her stance. her rapier stabs through the soft flesh of its wielder's neck and the spear turns into shards before it can even reach her.

-> sandstorm: 227830: CD 8

the man says west but his feet take him east.

mishiro, a few steps behind, opening her mouth to correct him, realizes it's pointless since he's leading them in the right direction anyway and flutters her hand to her lips to cover a small, amused huff. pinball would recognize it for what it is, but on her mien, it is nearly indistinguishable from an exhalation of her breath. her humor in this moment is just as faint. as the awkward, mismatched band of three approaches the gate, mishiro, glimpsing the preview text of a notification at the corner of her eye, pulls her hood over her head and grazes her fingertips over the hilt of her rapier to confirm its presence. the two walk into the desert, and she follows.

"kinda thought we would have seen him by now," one of them is saying, "hard to miss a fish out of water, right? wonder if he's 'swimming.'"

indeed, the 'sea' is entirely still. the ground is smooth, undisturbed. particles of dust blow off the top layers of the sands and are carried away by the wind. it's the only movement the four of them can see for miles. looking down, mishiro tracks the prints left by her shoes. she knows without checking her map that they are in the right place, she had been keeping a close eye on their location for as long as the man in green had been in the lead. "it hasn't been too long," she turns her head up, unperturbed by the wait, "let's circle around again and check..."

the hill in front of them explodes. sand sprays into the air in a column reminiscent of a geyser and from the dust comes charging a beast with scales made out of armor. its teeth are bared at the sight of prey. it clears the miles of sand dividing them in the time that it takes for everyone to draw their weapons. mishiro is the first to light up her rapier with a sword art, and she lunges forward, aiming for a swift, piercing blow, but the point of her blade meets naught but air. walpurgisnacht's precision would be of no help to her in this fight.

-> combat: missed vs terra firma.

none of those demands were addressed to her.

mishiro backs up a step, her hand frozen over her weapon's hilt. the sandstorm picks up speed, obscuring her view of her companions down below, and the desert dwellers, unfazed, jeer at her in a loud and harsh tongue as they advance. they jab the points of their weapons at mishiro, sending her skittering backwards as she snaps her rapier out of its sheath, but they don't press the attack. she doesn't, either. she's paralyzed by indecision and can seem to do no more than draw back in retreat.

a grave mistake. she runs out of level ground and her back foot sinks an inch lower than she had expected.

her heart is in her throat in the brief moment that she has to recenter herself. she doesn't even know if they had turned her onto the other side of the dune. the two bandits at the front take the opportunity to pounce.

she feels the first spear rip a long gash through her arm and the shock that reverberates throughout her senses jerk some of her combat instincts back into motion -- unfamiliar weapon or not -- and she shakily catches herself in a system-assisted stance that allows her to deflect the other spear that comes mere seconds later. before the sword art even dies down, she sees the drop in her hp.

-> sandstorm: 227641: CD 2

as soon as they concluded their triple quest relay, mishiro had wanted to go straight back to the desert. a few quests still remained that from her estimate were entirely within their ability to complete as a pair and rather than keep those dreaded lines in her books, continually having to consider some point in the future where they'll have to undergo the misery of venturing out of fortaleza again, she thought they could knock them off entirely while they were already miserable and the momentum was still high. it's just another day compared to the bliss of never having to come back here again. a trade entirely in their favor.

pinball wanted to accompany her, despite her growing reluctance towards having him at her side at every opportunity, and he did need someone to pick up the quest. after a few days of rest, she teleports them both into fortaleza a few hours into the afternoon.

the sun has barely begun its climb down its peak. the air is hotter than it was before, and she's burning up under her collar, where the pure white scales of her cloak cinch around her throat and shoulders. under her unseen companion's gaze, mishiro navigates her way around the players and npcs in the square until she arrives at the most ostentatious building in the settlement. a guard decorates the open entryway and it glares at her as though her very existence was a personal offense. it has the muscle to back it up. "name and business, girl. our client is a busy man."

she fights down her discomfort. "mishiro," she returns. "i hear your client is seeking fighters to defeat terra firma."

its glare doesn't abate. in fact, it now seems to scrutinize her, from her light clothes and delicate bearing to the weapon at her hip that most eyes would mistake for an instrument. dilettantes who want to bite off more than they can chew, or something like that. but that was not its judgment to make, whether by client's decree or cardinal's. the guard moves further to the side. "go on in," it says gruffly, "and make it quick. he doesn't like repeating himself."

she doesn't want to dwell. she hurries inside, tossing a glance over her shoulder to see the guard resume its position.

two players had arrived before her. they constitute an awkward scene. mishiro's gaze drifts from the man in the red cloak to the grinning man who was attached to him. she mentally picks at her sense of deja vu until she recognizes him for his funny hat: he was in the crusty bahrnacle the other day. it wasn't a pleasant encounter she had walked into back then, but it was one she had not entirely been present for and she generally likes to gather more information before deciding on a person's character. offering a polite nod to both, the girl steps away from the fringes of the room. "greetings, sirs," she says, mostly addressing the merchant at the head of the room, "i'm here for the same purpose. please continue."

a corpse is talking.

Spoiler // oh god it has evade. STATS: Spoiler LEVEL 21: HP 420 | EN 60 | DMG 19 | MIT 36 | ACC 4 | AA | EVA 1 | FLN 6 (6-8) | VO 10% WEAPON: RAPIER V + STAMINA + PRECISION + FEROCITY + ST SPECIALIST -- COMBAT MASTERY: DAMAGE III EXTRA 1 + 2: FIRST AID V + ADD-ON: FIELD MEDIC (total sp: 105 | used: 99 / unused: 6) EQUIPMENT: walpurgisnacht T3E4 WEAPON (RAPIER). CURSED, FALLEN, VAMPIRIC (OFFENSIVE), ABSOLUTE ACCURACY dioscuri T1E3 JEWELRY. ACCURACY III white cloak T3E3 LIGHT ARMOR. MITIGATION II, EVADE

"stay back," mishiro tells zamek, who nods frantically in understanding, its eyes wide.

she's leaving it behind. it won't come to any harm as long as they kill the sandworms fast enough.

by the time pinball vanishes, she's already racing forward to assist. she unsheathes her blade, resists the instinct to sharpen her eyes against the dust kicked up into the air by the skirmish as the sandworms collapse into a massive writhing mass of tangled bodies and snapping jaws, each thrashing about in search of their prey. he can handle it. he does. daggers rain down from the air, nailing the monstrosities to the ground before any of them could wriggle out of position. to him, it's merely routine. to her, she feels the telltale skip in her heartbeat before it begins to pound and she takes in a long, deep breath through parted lips.

"i've got it."

the system recognizes her stance. with its control, it's no issue closing the remaining distance and piercing through a frozen sandworm's armor. the shell of ice bursts, triggering a companion explosion in its pair. trapped and stunned in between, the other two can do nothing more than twitch as they are caught in the blast.

the top of the dune becomes glittering intangible dust and lingering cold air. bits and pieces of the mobs' remnant data are blown swiftly away by the harsh winds. mishiro straightens and sheathes her blade, the motion silent despite its design. atop her left hand hovers a spinning feather-light crystal -- spoils from the battle.

-> sandstorm: 226911: CD 11
-> combat: aoe-i vs worms 1-4.
-> looting: *

despite it all, the tailor remains professional. she likes that in people. there is a moment where it appears as though he would ask, and not minding at all, she's already reviewing the usual script she has in her mind. but that too passes, and he's soon excusing himself to his crafting area, leaving mishiro some time to wander about the shop's interior and absentmindedly inspect the clothes on display.

the wait doesn't take long.

she takes her new cloak and the pristine white fabric spills into its full length as she unfolds it. as a light armor class, it is heavier and more durable than its copy and the clasp that keeps the entire thing secured is much tighter to compensate. mishiro inspects it for a few moments longer, careful to keep the edges from brushing the floor, and decides she's satisfied.

"whatever it is you have planned," bahr says, "take care of yourself. and him."

and him.

such words are rare in this place. a small, grateful smile touches her lips. "thank you."

she folds her new cloak over her arm and leaves, her thoughts already turning to an excursion into the desert.

-> claiming: white cloak

she doesn't look like she belongs here on this side of town but she doesn't appear lost either -- at least until she takes notice of the scene before her. the crusty bahrnacle's shop owner, standing behind the counter, handing back an item, stares down the man across from him with a dark scowl. tension lies thick in the air, and she immediately knows to avert her eyes to the floor at the first hint of either (or both) of the men turning to investigate the sound of the doorbell. she's clearly preparing to turn, politely apologize, and exit the situation when the men disperse on their own.

on his way to the door, the troublemaker passes her. lavender eyes follow as soon as he has his back turned, emotionless and appearing to hold no judgment. what a strangely colored hat.

anyway, she'll make this quick.

"entitled customers," mishiro says sympathetically, guessing on her impression alone. given her entry, she also guesses the subject warrants some acknowledgement. she takes her place across bahr at the counter and unfolds the slip of paper she had in her hand. it is a copy of the shop's order form, already filled out in her neat cursive script. "still open? i have a custom order."

Quote

ORDERING:

Spoiler

Name: White Cloak
Your Profession: Tailor
Your Rank: 10
ID: [Leave Blank]
Roll: [Leave Blank]
Item Type: Light Armor
Tier: 3
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: Mitigation II, Evade I
Description: A white hooded cloak made for comfort.
Post Link: [Leave Blank]

PAYMENT: 3,375 col -- sent.

they pass the skeletons of structures once stood in the lands surrounding the settlement, now destroyed by sand.

zamek doggedly walks on, battered, yet untoppled by the intensifying winds, the ends of its cloak flapping like a banner. it walks at half the speed of an ordinary person, and mishiro learns to dread every ascent along the dunes, where its pace slows to a crawl and they have to trudge along one step at a time. if they let it out of their sight for too long, zamek will simply vanish and cardinal will materialize another copy of it -- all the way back in fortaleza.

they do keep to their premise of gathering, but mishiro's searches turn up empty. she's weary after a mere two hours and determined not to fail. the sun had risen at some point during their walk, and she feels the ghost of a headache from the combination of the sand, the hot air, and the strain in her eyes from watching their surroundings for danger. they're breaking for water at the base of a hill, their backs momentarily shielded from the wind, when mishiro, handing pinball a canteen from her inventory, looks him over thoughtfully. 

"one of us should be taking point," she gently reminds. they'd seen small clusters of mobs on the way and none of them were hostile if left unbothered. that isn't always the case. "and you're used to scouting, even without the skill points. i can hold my own here if anything happens -- you know what my build does."

-> sandstorm: 226473: CD 2
-> gathering: 226474: LD 9

at least the girl looks harmless, something in the intelligence driving this npc must have decided. it looks to her after receiving the fright of its life and, miraculously, it isn't excusing itself yet.

it is driven by urgency. sands trickling down to the bottom half of the hourglass. who knows if another willing adventurer would soon pass this road?

she has no sympathy for these creatures, but if pinball's sudden appearance had barely provoked a change in her expression, this wouldn't either. "we happen to be leaving town as well," mishiro amends, "for a simple gathering expedition. if you don't mind a few stops along the way, we can escort you to where you need to go."

it wavers with indecision, looking from her, to pinball, then giving a jolt of fright when he so much as turns his eyes its way, then back to mishiro, quietly awaiting its answer. "i thank you for your kindness, young lady," the old man, still, has a stammer to its voice, but it is less poised to run, or keel over and faint -- and it had relaxed slightly at her measured tone, enough that it falls into another fit, letting out the deep and dry coughs that had been building up in its lungs.

she approaches pinball, notably the space between him and the old man. when the old man recovers its breath, it speaks again; and its nervousness of pinball is blatant in the way that its head lowers to address mishiro exclusively. "i am zamek. and are you and this man...?"

"he's my partner."

mishiro hits the [accept quest] button as soon as the window appears.

"let's go -- before the sun rises."

the [sandstorm] effect appears as a status condition as soon as they step out of the gates. this close to the main settlement, the wind isn't as strong, but she feels a slight sting where the sand hits her, and she quickly unfolds her cloak and secures it over her shoulders, pulling the hood over her head. pinball rejoins them, and zamek, peering out at the distance, points them in a general direction and starts their trek, coughing all the while.

mishiro lingers for a long moment, adjusting her cloak. and without another word, she follows.

> sandstorm: 226281: CD 10

she listens to his steps fade into the distance as she polishes off her tea. she doesn't like leaving food (or drink) unfinished, even if it is bitter, even if the spoonfuls of honey that he added had settled at the bottom of the cup from her waiting and turned the last few sips nauseatingly sweet. he had made it for her. isn't it only fair to pay it back?

before she returns to her room to prepare, she gathers both cups and deposits them into her inventory. any leftovers will eventually dissolve, given enough time.

the heavy wooden door slides shut.

the sky is still dim, the grass wet with dew. mishiro immediately finds pinball at the shaded area of the courtyard and takes him by the arm. she's changed into the breezy laced dress she prefers to wear into battle and a white cloak is folded over her arm. "i'll say the address," she says without preamble -- so get ready to enter stealth as soon as i do. -- and from her pair of teleport crystals, she presses one into pinball's hand.

doesn't let go until she's shattered both.

"teleport: fortaleza."

a sensation of weightlessness, their surroundings wiped clean as a slate. she feels the change in the air before floor 5 is even finished loading in, and by the time she opens her eyes, blinking to relieve her momentary dizziness, pinball had already departed, slipping into the shadows of ramshackle buildings. mishiro tries, as always, to scrutinize her surroundings, to parse out, if perhaps there is any difference in the way the light hits certain areas, as if through their closeness alone, she could see past the veil cast over him. she doesn't find anything out of place.

she doesn't look any further and simply heads in the opposite direction. the intent is to finish this before the sun hits its peak and turns the temperature into scorching. they're trying to expedite the more troublesome parts of the process. luckily: the desert starts counting damage in the early hours of morning. and another point in her favor: there is the bearded npc before she even makes it halfway out of the center of the town -- on its way to one of the roads near the southern gate.

@PIN

MSH: >>
MSH: has shared her current location.