Bahr

Crafting 11/27/2020 (continued).

NOTE: Roll 178713 has a roll purpose that denotes a "T1 Light Armor" craft. This was a mistake made when using the autofill feature. It is meant to be a T1 Martial Arts Weapon craft.

Name: Fur-Hooded Down Jacket
Your Profession: Tailor
Your Rank: 10
ID: 178707
Roll: CD: 10
Item Type: Light Armor
Tier: 1
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: MIT | MIT | Regen
Description: A fluffy green winter jacket. The design was taken from a manga only read once.
Post Link: http://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/17882-f1-r10-tailor-the-crusty-bahrnacle/?do=findComment&comment=630301

Name: Roosevelt
Your Profession: Tailor
Your Rank: 10
ID: 178709
Roll: CD: 11
Item Type: Martial Arts Weapon
Tier: 1
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: Bleed | Bleed | Paralyze
Description: A field of red flowers bloom in a darkened field. The moon that hangs low in the sky is tattered in pieces.
Post Link: http://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/17882-f1-r10-tailor-the-crusty-bahrnacle/?do=findComment&comment=630301

Name: STR
Your Profession: Tailor
Your Rank: 10
ID: 178713
Roll: CD: 11
Item Type: Martial Arts Weapon
Tier: 1
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: DMG | DMG | DMG
Description: Two obsidian obelisks of metal unkind stand at the heart of a distant planet. Though their sharp edges have been slanted off, their resolution would be enough.
Post Link: http://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/17882-f1-r10-tailor-the-crusty-bahrnacle/?do=findComment&comment=630301

Crafting 11/27/2020 (continued).
Order for @Nian ready for pickup.

Woah. Business was really picking up today. But what was up with the clientele? It was a sea of red. Were they drawn to him because he, too, had a proclivity toward red attire?

Not that he was complaining.

As he perused the notes scribbled down by the small woman, he nodded. "Switching to green, huh? Well, 'tis the season," Bahr muttered, eyes flickering up to match hers. Though, when he found no amusement in them, he pursed his lips and took the work order with him into the workshop in the back of the facility. 

Easy, all of them - despite the odd descriptions she'd given each. After no more than ten minutes, Bahr returned to the front of the shop, producing the requested crafts. "Should do the trick," he surmised, placing his fists against his hips. "Try them on and make sure they're a good fit."

(idk if i'm supposed to be next in rotation but i'ma just bust in here rq)

MEGA SLIME FARM USED

Bahr had been doing very important things that day. Indeed. Quite important. So far, he'd managed to teach Swine Bajesus how to sit still on the counter and prick its ears upward as a makeshift goalpost for his paper football. Now, if only he could teach the critter not to get so upset when that paper football smacked him in the snout...

"... the owner is pretty great."

Now it was Bahr's ears that were perked, crimson and verdant orbs eagerly flickering toward the even widening maw of his front door just in time to witness is love saunter inside. She was in her more casual garb (which she knew he loved), and had a young man accompanying her - newer, by the looks of it. Though, Bahr didn't pay much mind to him or his gear (or lack thereof). His eyes were glued to Lessa's, stupid grin stretching from ear to ear as he watched her elegant features bring light into the softly lit room. 

All at once, he felt compelled to stand up straight, brush the stray hairs from his face, and hide the paper football he'd been tormenting his irritated pet with. "Well, isn't this a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from my darling, and..." His eyes trailed toward the newbie, confusion mounting in his eyes.

"Drenz. He's just starting out, and I was telling him about a Tailor I happen to know who might be able to hook him up with some new duds," Lessa clarified, gesturing toward Drenz with one of her hands.

"Ahhh, looking for a stat boost, huh? Or maybe it's style points you're after? Luckily for you, we've got both here. Give me just a moment."

He retreated to the workshop in the back of the facility. As he rummaged about, Swine Bajesus didn't skip a beat in waddling over to the end of the counter nearest Lessa and pining for her attention. After a few moments, Bahr reemerged into the shop, producing a pair of items that he placed on the counter that separated the parties. "Just made these this morning. Was thinking it had been awhile since I'd seen a newer Player swing by the shop," he mused. "Didn't expect to see them go so soon, but I'm sure you'll be satisfied with the result. One makes it harder for mobs to hit you, while the other softens the blow when they do. Try 'em on, make sure they fit."

Sent to @Drenz.

APPROVED HOMIE.

On 11/24/2020 at 2:10 PM, Kasumi said:

11/24/20
Materials Sent: 10/6

  Hide contents

 

Name:	Visions of the End - Epiphany
Profession:	Artisan
Rank:	10
Roll ID:	170909
Roll Result:	12+1/LD: 7
Item Type:	Trinket
Tier:	1
Quality:	Perfect
Enhancements:	Accuracy 1, Prosperity 2
Post Link:	Here
Description:	A pair of solarite frames, wire brushed to dull the glow that the metal gives off. Simplistic and functional for the wearer who divides himself from attentions when it matters.

 

Approved.

Name: Hooded Azure Tunic
Your Profession: Tailor
Your Rank: 10
ID: 178556
Roll: CD: 11
Item Type: Light Armor
Tier: 1
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: EVA | EVA | EVA
Description: This garb features twin tails that confuse the opponent, giving the wearer's movements a veneer of elusivity. Despite appearing loose and baggy, it will feel skin-tight to the wearer, improving maneuverability.
Post Link: http://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/17882-f1-r10-tailor-the-crusty-bahrnacle/?do=findComment&comment=630072

Name: Laced Armguards
Your Profession: Tailor
Your Rank: 10
ID: 178599
Roll: CD: 12
Item Type: Light Armor
Tier: 1
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: MIT | MIT | Regen
Description: Built to accompany the Hooded Azure Tunic, this armor maximizes maneuverability while also protecting the wearer. On the off-chance that the wearer is struck, this equipment will help to absorb the damage - then mend it.
Post Link: http://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/17882-f1-r10-tailor-the-crusty-bahrnacle/?do=findComment&comment=630094

Name: Blood of Sekhmet
Your Profession: Tailor
Your Rank: 10
ID: 178702
Roll: CD: 11
Item Type: Light Armor
Tier: 2
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: EVA | EVA | Recovery
Description: A set of garb that is somehow reminiscent of Egyptian wear. The shoes are a pair of snakeskin boots, with white pants, an opened dark grey shirt, and red overcoat. The overcoat is embroidered in gold hieroglyphs that seems to tell a story. It is too bad that it is illegible to most.
Post Link: http://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/17882-f1-r10-tailor-the-crusty-bahrnacle/?do=findComment&comment=630280

Crafting 11/27/2020.
Order for @Valentine ready for pickup.

As the man adorned in crimson entered the shop, Bahr instantly took notice. There weren't too many in Aincrad willing to sport the color, particularly after Bahr had stained it with the legacy of a killer. However, just as time seemed to heal all wounds, it seemed that the Players had either come to forgive Bahr. That, or they had discovered the falsehood that was Zayne's murder altogether. At any rate, things seemed to be changing for the color red - and for the better.

"Interesting choice," Bahr mused as he read over the work order. "Not used to this sort of style, but I'll see what I can whip up." And with that, he retreated to the back room of the workshop to run through his collection of fabrics and select the perfect one of the job.

The first attempt was scrapped, of course. You couldn't expect a man like Bahr to get such a niche outfit right on the first try. But with a bit more careful deliberation and a steady hand on the second attempt, he found himself pleased with the result. He looked it over a final time, ensured the enhancements had come out correctly, then returned to the front of the shop. 

"I think this'll do the trick," Bahr mused as he presented the clothing to Valentine. "Make sure it's to your liking."

As Bahr listened to Oscar's monologue, he felt his grip on Dusk's Demise loosening. "I'm drunk on power?" he scoffed in disbelief. "Oscar, you're talking about murdering a child! In the real world, as a therapist, had a child held a gun to you, would you have attempted to deescalate and disarm him, or kill him? While I understand it's different here in Aincrad, you're still talking about whipping out a gun of your own against the kid instead of doing your job as a medical professional."

As the thunder filled the air with subtle vibrations, and Oscar muttered something about "buying you guys some time to prepare," Bahr could only shake his head. "No, Oscar. You should have come to us. You think I can't handle Tyson and his organization alone, but you can?"

"Declaring war against Player Killers, fine. But we have a proper way of doing that. When you're the last killer standing, and decide to try your hand at killing someone else you 'deem a threat,' rest assured..." he sheathed his blade against the small of his back and turned. "I will put you down."
 

Even their combined efforts hadn't yet managed to halve the creature's health, causing Bahr's brows to furrow with concern. They still hadn't the context to understand the sort of fury this beast was packing, nor what tricks it had up its sleeve further into the battle. The last boss had fully healed itself before they were done with it - how were they to assume this one wouldn't do the same? And if it did, well, at this rate...

"Assuming the worst case scenario, we may run out of energy before the battle is over," Bahr mused as he relaxed his stance and stood a bit straighter. "If that happens, I have means to restore some of it. But it's a band aid rather than a cure." His eyes flickered to each of the other participants individually before the closed, and he allowed a measured sigh to escape his lips.

"As durable as it is, I don't think we have a choice other than to beat it into submission before it can pull a fast one on us." What a shocker that Bahr, of all people, would recommend a rushdown strategy. Truly unheard of. "Stay on target. Don't miss. Let's give it hell."

No sooner had the words escaped his lips than the crimson blur would appear before the beast once more, leaping into the air and thwacking it with all the might he could pour into a single swing. The blowback seemed to disturb his position more than the overgrown dog's, sending him hurtling backward toward the line of Players that all awaited their own opportunity to take a crack at the monster and continue chipping away its health piece by painstaking piece.
 

Crafting 11/23/2020.

Bahr sauntered into the Alchemist's shop, not entirely sure what to expect at first. Was he in the right place? The dark oak furniture, countless bookshelves, and unmistakable scent of coffee produced an atmosphere more akin to a book store than an apothecary. Not that Bahr would be complaining if that was where he had ended up. Though he'd never been much of a reader, he held great respect for books and the impact that they could have on the world. All that aside, he also just found something really soothing about book stores. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about them that hosted unrivaled relaxation.

"One of these, please," he requested with a finger outstretched at the potions, which he had finally located. His desire was of the Crafter's Respite variety. Crafting had been particularly unkind to him that day, and he was going to need a little boost if he were to have his docket cleared before the day was done.

1000 col sent to Bistro.
"Dragon's Breath" Crafter's Respite Potion obatined. [177680]

Crafting 11/22/2020.
"Dragon's Breath" Crafter's Respite Potion consumed. [177680]

Bahr barreled past Oscar as he gloated, bouncing to and fro to the beat of Space Jam - which had somehow worked its way into what was supposed to be a heinous quest against the most fearsome and grotesque creatures the castle had to offer. Did he care? Not in the slightest. He was on his way to beat the shit out of an old witch which had caused him so much pain in an alternate timeline that he somehow had a vague recollection of.

Wait, hadn't they rode a boat to get to it the last time? 

Huh. Things weren't adding up all too well.

Too late - he'd already found the ghoulish mistress and slammed the pommel of Dawn's Demise into the bridge of her nose, sending her flocking into the darkness beyond. Now all that remained were her chained gimps, who also seemed to be bobbing their heads to Space Jam. How was that still playing?
 

"My plan to proactively counteract a possible snap was to put her in jail," Bahr replied coolly, though there was no malice in his tone. "If she were to snap now, it would be civil war. People would quickly take sides and the skirmish would be bloody. There's no way around it."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, seemingly blanketing and smothering the typical noise that pervaded the cafe. His eyes remained locked on Macradon's, brows slightly furrowed in an attempt to convey how seriously he took the situation. It wasn't just that he thought Mari was dangerous. He found her influence to be particularly more so. "We are essentially sitting on a powder keg and hoping nobody lights a match," he surmised. "This sort of situation may only require a spark. I've seen it. Recently, one of my strongest and most trusted allies went off the deep end. Began killing other players, turned his back on my guild, physically fought with me, and seemingly abandoned everything he previously stood for. There was no indication that this would happen - no prior history that would suggest he would become what he is now. But it still happened."

His eyes narrowed as the fists of his folded arms balled tightly, gloves squelching softly against the increasing tension. "We hear stories like this all the time, Macradon. It's not just because I'm close to this particular issue that I hold the views I do. If he, a man with no prior inclination toward such deeds, could suddenly snap and spiral down the path he has, what reason do I have to believe that Mari isn't just as prone to returning to those ways - if not more so?"

After a beat of silence, Bahr concluded, "At this point, the best thing you can do to proactively stop another snap is keep Parry active when around her and pray that the right people join the right sides when all hell breaks loose."

Bahr swirled his coffee about as Macradon explained his position in more granular detail, taking the occasional thoughtful sip and keeping his eyes glued to those of the man sitting across. When it seemed he'd come to a logical conclusion of his monologue, Bahr gently set the mug back down on the table and crossed his arms, slumping a bit and leaning back into his chair. 

"I used to think the same thing, you know," Bahr noted, expression remaining largely neutral. "That I was only good as a soldier. But, in time, I've come to realize that we have an opportunity to be so much more here. For better or worse, regardless our flaws, there are those that look up to people like us. Honestly, it's just something that comes with the territory."

"The actions of Frontliners like you and Zandra moulded my own as I worked to ascend the ranks. I was inspired by your perseverance and unrivaled power. I could see that it was people like you who made the difference when it came to pushing onward and upward through the castle." Realizing he was getting a bit sidetracked, Bahr decided to circle back. "All that being said, I know that your actions were rooted in virtuous intention. Regardless of whether or not I actually agree with them, you did what you were doing because you believed it to be right. It's Mari that I'm not so sure about."

"Frankly, I don't believe her story. I can't bring myself to accept that all of those deaths were happenstance, heat of the moment ordeals. Whether she thought she was doing the right thing for some of them, I can feel in my bones that some of them weren't so virtuous. That's why I'm concerned. She seems to have wriggled her way into the good graces of all of the people who seem to conveniently be among the strongest in this world. A large part of me feels that that is no accident, and that her musings of victimhood are a rouse to earn pity and trust. It concerns me that it seems to be working so effectively, and that she could potentially snap again at any moment - while surrounded by people that Aincrad needs."

"So this is the mutt, huh?" Bahr mused as he sauntered into the arena behind Freyd, largely ignoring the overbearing voice of Odin. "Gotta admit - sure does look a lot more intimidating that Cerberus. Even the new mutation that came out recently." His crimson and verdant orbs flickered to the quadruple health bar that half-encircled its bulbous skull, heralding a health pool unlike the previous mobs they'd encountered. Seemed like quite the difficulty spike.

Once the dusty miasma had evaporated, Bahr bolted forth and unleashed a strike not unlike Freyd's tearing a repectable portion of health away from their shared adversary. Unfortunately, it seemed that even with raw Fallen energy pulsing along his blade, he'd only managed to deplete a single health gauge to about two-thirds empty - and that was after Freyd had gotten his lick in, too.

"Damn - scary and durable." He felt some unseen force tug one of the edges of his lip up into a crooked smile. "That's what I'm talking about."
 

Oh, they were going now. 

Wait a second - when had they gotten onto a boat? 

Had Bahr sat on NIGHT again?

No, that was another timeline.

Regardless, Bahr wasn't about to let Oscar have all of the fun. Judging by the miasma of obsidian haze that had erupted from Oscar's strike, Bahr suspected the foolhardy magic ninja had managed to get a Fallen proc off. The luck! Well, Bahr knew a thing or two about luck as well.

It was no more than a matter of seconds after Oscar's black-death-super-edgy-explosion-of-darkness-and-stuff-attack that Bahr swooped with a blade gleaming scarlet, unleashing his own ultra-cool-skull-and-crossbones-inky-big-dick-damage-surprise and catapulting the mob's health gauge to a hair's breath above the yellow.

"Ayyyyyy look at all of that edge," the Kingslayer mused. "That's gotta be, like, nine hundred damage right there. Right on. Think we can kill it before the weirdos show up and crash the party? That'd be pretty cool, right? Guys?"

But they were all too busy trying to be equally cool.
 

The fight certainly had lost its zeal, hadn't it? As Bahr traced yet another line across Oscar's chest, his crimson and verdant orbs flickered to the health gauge in the upper left-hand corner of his HUD. Full. Hadn't Oscar been thrashing him with that ridiculous axe only a moment prior? 

A cursory glance at the gauge that wrapped around Oscar's collarbone revealed a similar story. Though not full, it may as well have been. It was maybe a fifth depeted? If that. Since Bahr's energy gauge was around two-fifths depleted, it was clear that it had become a war of prideful attrition rather than a fight for anything actually meaningful. Or, at the very least, it had lost all meaning when the determination was made that neither of them could become invested in one another's worldviews.

He took a step back and planted the tip of Dusk's Demise into the now loamy earth. Only ragged breathing from the pair and the constant patter-slap of rain meeting soil filled the silence that had abruptly taken over the clearing. Not unlike how the flames of their argument had seemingly died, the fallen tree, too, had lost its spark. Through a mess of wetted-down ivory hair that had been and cast over his eyes, Bahr held a steadfast and fierce gaze against his opponent. The determination Bahr still held in his were lost in the other's. They were deadened, hollow, and devoid of emotion.

"Why did you let this happen to you?" he finally asked. "You were my friend. One of my most trusted allies in this catastrophe of a world. Why did you allow yourself to become a shell of that man, defined by the machinations of an indignant child?"
 

As Oscar gave the floor back to Bahr, he took a single step forward and cleaved his mighty blade through the two that Oscar had struck, as well as another two that had joined the fray in an untimely manner. Though three fell, only one dropped a skin. Bahr sighed.

"You know what really chaps my ass about the whole thing, too?" he started, placing the heel of his boot squarely between the eyes of the single surviving Drakeling and shoving it back. "I drank a potion before we got here that supposedly improves one's chances of getting the skin drop when killing one of these things. Apparently the drop rate is a little low normally, but the potion gets the drop rate to somewhere around fifty percent. Allegedly. We must have killed close to fifty by now, and we still don't have the twenty skins the quest demands for full completion. What a rip off."
 

“Flashy moves in a blinding red blur and haze, yet without substance. Poor, impotent fool.”

His head remained hung as the words sunk into his core. The Shadow's taunt wasn't incorrect. Bahr had spent what felt like eons perfecting his technique, lauding the importance of skill over buff saturation, only for everything he stood for to fall flat. All the while, his comrades circled about in a flurry of color and steel, stealing chunk after chunk of Orgoth's health away while Bahr stood on in abject embarrassment. Their successes, along with the Shadow's jeering, compounded Bahr's failure.

'The Bloodedge.' 'The Crimson Marauder.' 'The Kingslayer.' These titles meant nothing. Among the Frontliners, it seemed Bahr was the least effective. He'd fooled himself into believing he'd found his calling in Aincrad as a soldier; a man who could finally make his mark on the world, and commit a difference to the lives of those around him, by participating in Aincrad's most dangerous gauntlets for the good of all. But with the creature's health now more than half depleted, and Bahr having nothing to show for it, the resulting realization of his own ineptitude was soul-crushing. 

He held up his blade and braced for impact, feeling the reverberations of clashing steel ripple through his body. Orgoth was so powerful. How was it that they'd already reduced more than half of its health? Was this how Floor Boss raids were supposed to go? 

Bahr fell back to @Morgenstern's position and swiftly deployed one of the Instant Heal Crystals he'd collected from Baldur at the beginning of the raid, the miniscule volume of health it replenished working in tandem with the Battle Healing of the party to gradually replenish their gauges. So far it seemed that everyone was still in the green - even Zajcica, who had taken the brunt of Orgoth's fury. While he kept his eyes on the boss, he nudged his companion with his elbow.

"Something's off," he speculated, eyes narrowing. "If the Shadow attacked us at the same time as Orgoth, we'd already be history. So why doesn't he? Furthermore..." His eyes steadied on the minotaur's health bars - or what remained of them. "Why's this thing going down so easily? It's like the Shadow wants us to kill it."
 

As the flames washed over Bahr, he took note of the burn - or, rather, the lack thereof. His health bar ticked downward, but was almost immediately replenished in the blink of an eye. It appeared that, even with four of them attacking at once, there was no threat that the overgrown lizards would pose to either of them. Oscar had taken a larger lashing than Bahr, but his health pool was similarly barely scathed. This quest had more or less become a war of attrition against the tedium of the task at hand, rather than a real test of their abilities as swordsmen.

It both put him at ease and grinded his gears.

"Yeah," he agreed, "And it'd be nice to feel like I actually did something with my day after all of this. A dungeon crawl sounds a lot more engaging than.. whatever the hell this quest is supposed to be. I'd thought it would have been a little harder."
 

8 minutes ago, ChaseR said:

Name:	Heaven's Decree
Profession:	Artisan
Rank:	6
Roll ID:	[ID 177911]
Roll Result:	11 (+1)
Item Type:	Trinket
Tier:	1
Quality:	Perfect
Enhancements:	ACCURACY II | EVASION I
Post Link:	Here
Description:	A small cylindrical stamp coated in gold. It leaves marks of cinnabar with Nian's signature depicted upon it.

Approved.

APPROVED HOMIE.

"Was that..." Bahr blinked. "Was that fucKING LINKIN PARK?" he accused as he craned his head back, staring at Raidou incredulously. It wasn't even so much the fact that he'd chosen a long-dead band to represent his choice of words. The deadpan tone and demeanor with which the man delivered the excerpt was more than enough to tilt Bahr into a white hot rage. He didn't know why. It just... resonated with him on a primal level.

So lost was his focus that he didn't even bother trying to attempt a Fallen or Holy activation. No, he just ran up to the boss and started smacking it as hard as he physically could, using the absurd wedge he called a weapon as more a club than for its actual intention. He continued to wail on the ghoul until his arms felt heavier, and a sting in his upper biceps heralded the inevitably conclusion of his tantrum. Huffing, tired, but still mad, he shot another glare to the red-coated goon.

"I'll remember this."