Alkor

"Freyd, huh?" Alkor didn't know the guy, but he didn't necessarily like that he "approved" of Setsuna's methods. Allowing someone to do something was different from condoning it. Alkor wasn't going to stop her, but he didn't have to like it either. He glanced sidelong back at her as she spoke. Setsuna really did the world in a childish way. He could tell there were no gray areas in her subjective from the way she noted other Players in such cold regard. Were they lesser because they were different, or just foolish? He couldn't quite tell what she thought on the matter just from hearing the words. Not that he'd dismiss them readily, or accept them either. Sometimes it was alright just to leave things the way they were. Setsuna had her own path to walk, the same as he did. 

When she said that she wanted to circumvent the info brokers, Alkor had to laugh aloud. What a wild fantasy that was. "The info brokers have to survive too, you know," Alkor smirked wryly back at her. "A lot of risk goes into the work they do. They get paid for things that they put their necks on the line for, or expend hard earned money to learn. You can't call that extortion, honestly, it's no different from paying a tax. You give up a necessary amount of money in order to pay for a service." 

Every member of their community was vital, down to the lowliest newbie on the first floor who hadn't even taken a step out of the Town of Beginnings. It was easy to think that one person or the other was the problem, but everyone had to eat. Some people didn't have the strength to face the Frontlines, and that was fine. Other people didn't want to move forward at all, and they couldn't help but to be afraid. All of them were valid. "But what you want to do," he said quietly, smiling all the while, "that's noble in its own way, too. Some people can't afford the info, and they have the right to survive, just like everyone else. So I can't say you're wrong either," he turned his gaze back toward where they movement had occurred and sank into a combat ready stance. He exploded forward without another word, the blade between Setsuna and whatever enemy stood ahead of them. 

Alkor would protect them all by vanquishing the enemies that threatened their existence. He shot through the underbrush with his blade first, seeking to carve through anything that might be waiting in hiding. The bush sundered, the top half fell away and vanished in a stream of pixels. There was nothing there.

"Maybe I was a little too ambitious," he laughed dryly.

Roll to find Kumatetsu: ID# 183113 Loot: 9 <fail>

He sighed. Setsuna was extremely mechanical in the way she approached things. It made it easier for him to understand her, because she wasn't subtle. She just said what she was thinking, and explained the process set out ahead of her. On the other hand, she rarely said what she was feeling. It was hard to read her intentions on a personal level. He could certainly empathize with that. There was a time when Alkor was not dissimilar. "Guild tasks, huh?" he said absently. Unlike Setsuna, Alkor was never a very good guild member. During his time in Lessa's Guardians of Aincrad guild, he was a warm body, someone to exist simply so the Guild stayed together. He was a bad friend and rarely went to social events. It seemed like this young lady was very consistent and even did the tasks that her Guildmaster assigned diligently. They were definitely very different in their approach to solitude. "That's good," Alkor said softly, "I owe Raidou a solid anyway, I'm happy to help you out."

When she described the antics of the quest mob, Alkor felt something in the pit of his stomach churn. People should have known better than to wander far from the safe zone without direction. They'd come this far in Aincrad surviving on what they knew, and carefully avoiding the unknown when they were not prepared. The Frontliners and mid-tier Players cleared things and provided the Info Brokers with knowledge that they in turned gave to weaker Players in order to keep them alive. But then, that made sense. It was probably exactly why Setsuna was here now. "I see," he muttered discontentedly.

It was a problem. If this thing kept respawning, and it roamed openly then it would happen upon weaker Players no matter what they tried. If they knew the actual spawn point and had an idea of the parameters of the roaming grounds, though, they could give the Brokers a good idea of what the boundaries for its wrath were. Alkor took the lead she offered with a thumbs up. Neither of them was especially a talkative person, but some things were implicit. Setsuna preferred to move quietly. Alkor was fine with being the center of attention in a fight. 

That was about the only time when he was fine with it.

"Looks like we have a winner," the swordsman said absently as they moved toward the source of the disturbance. Shuffling flora brought Alkor to a pause. "I'm up," he said beneath his breath as he drew his blade into his hand.

He was almost to the point where they'd said it usually roamed when he heard something like a twig snapping behind him. If he had more invested into his search skill, he might have taken it as evidence that someone was lurking nearby; unfortunately, Alkor had no interest in hidden Players and most of his time and energy went into honing his skill with the blade. If someone did try to sneak up on him, he would make them regret it. What did surprise him was when the voice cut through the fog of war and it seemed to know who he was. The darkly dressed swordsman shifted his gaze in that direction it had come from, away from the task at hand.

"Who's there?" he questioned. There was more than one Player who probably wouldn't mind attacking him, though he'd done nothing in recent times to warrant it. Most of them forgot he was alive, or never knew that rumors of his death had been greatly exaggerated to begin with. No, this was someone with a distinctly feminine voice. That narrowed it down to several people in his mind, but when he saw the mist break and Setsuna appeared, he seemed visibly relieved. "Oh hey, Setsuna," he greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

It did seem a bit uncharacteristic that the younger woman would happen to be in the same place as him at the same time, but the likelihood that she wanted to handle the same quest abated any questions that arose. "You looking for the bear too?" he asked in an attempt to clear the slightly awkward air. Maybe it wasn't awkward for her, but in spite of many strides he made toward being more approachable and social, Alkor was still weaker than most people in communicating his thoughts and feelings, and he wasn't great at reading the room. "If you want, we can look for it together?"

In all that time, he hadn't thought to draw his weapon. Action came after words now, no matter the situation. Striking another Player was nowhere near the forefront of his mind, and it showed in how he spoke and carried himself.

Scents of the Wild - Ferocious Foe

Many of the more prominent damage dealers he'd met told him the same thing. In order to reliably increase your output, you had to hunt down every resource available to you. Be it food, potions, weapons, armor, or even quest rewards. They only hinted at the last of these things, but some delving with the Info Brokers unearthed the truth behind those prompts. A chain of quests, available from the eighth floor onward that yielded various rewards that bolstered various statistics permanently, for as long as they were in use. This seemed like common sense to him, though he was certain there was more to learn. In order to do this, he resolved to begin with the first quest in the chain. Once that was over with, he might find a more concrete solution in the reward.

His resolution didn't make the Eighth floor any less simplistic to navigate. Regrettably, if he had started this quest a long time ago it would have been more formidable. That didn't mean anything for the latter portion of it, but it did mean that the starting off point and several subsequent quests would be an absolute, grindy slog. "If only I didn't have to go it alone," he moaned audibly as he trekked the distance from the teleporter toward where the quest mob was known to spawn. "But I guess that's pretty much how it goes," he amended. Alkor had started out as a solo Player, and even now, he had grown more isolated from others. Even his attempts to bridge that gap were met with previous understanding of who he was and how he'd acted.

Only Lessa was still really his close friend, and she still had an awkward relationship with him. His actions prior to his perceived death had done him no favors. The people now saw him as aloof, and while he had a pretty strong showing in certain circles, they were limited severely in scope. They only saw him as a reliable damage dealer, but not someone who they wanted to spend a great deal of time around outside of that. The few people he'd talked to since had a more favorable view of him, but only slightly. His experiences inside of SAO had given him new perspectives on things, both inside Aincrad and beyond it.

More recently, he'd visited the monument where his name once was thought to belong. It didn't, in truth, but seeing that for himself brought him some peace. He often thought that he did belong in a grave, and a shallow one at that. He'd been awful to people who called him a friend. Mari, Lessa... Arc... Corvo...

Alkor sighed.

"Stay focused," he told himself. Drowning in his shame and wallowing in sorrows served no purpose now but to chain him down and prevent forward momentum. If he wanted to be stronger, he had to embrace who he was and strive toward who he wanted to be. "Don't fall into that trap again."

With a soft exhalation of breath, he blew out all of his anxiety. When he inhaled again, the fresh perspective flooded his thoughts. He was ready for action.

"Now, to find this "Kumatetsu..."

@Setsuna

He could never fault someone for feeling that way. It was unfair, and it was disingenuous for him to do so. The whole reason his name was on the monument at all was because he had said the same. He had acted on it. The most he could do was feel his heart tearing in two when the girl spoke because he knew what lay ahead on that path. It was a trail blazed in blood and a destination that only had regret to offer. But perhaps for Setsuna, the only way forward was that path. Perhaps unlike Alkor, she had a true and dear reason to walk the bleak road of justice to its completion. In honesty, Alkor had far too much of a kind heart to ever do it again. He felt the blood in his fingertips, throbbing. His gaze had grown impossibly soft, prone, filled with sadness. 

To be fair, he'd already touched her once. He would not invade her space again to give her consolation. He already felt odd enough and out of place from the first instance of contact, and he knew enough about her to doubt she'd overlook it again. Still, he wanted to wipe the tear on her cheek away. It wasn't wrong that she felt different. It wasn't wrong that she felt someone had to stop it. He just differed from her in that he was certain there was a better way to approach things. But to say that to her demeaned her feelings.

She would have to come to her own conclusions, and he had immense respect for that fact. She was on a road similar, but not the same to the one had had walked before. He only hoped that Setsuna would not suffer the way he had.

"Animals can be caged," he said, "and muzzled. And they should be. There are many paths to tread. There is also putting them down... but a life is a life, even if they have to regard for that fact."

Alkor closed his eyes. "A man who does battle with monsters ought be mindful that he does not become a monster himself," Alkor paraphrased Nietzsche, but he went on from there to diverge from the Existentialist. "But the tears you cry prove to me that you are not and will never be like them." He reached into his pocket and summoned a handkerchief from his inventory, which he subsequently offered to the young woman. "If you want to bear those wounds, I will not disrespect you by asking you to stop. Just know, if you can't handle the pain, there's nothing wrong with stopping. And you can always talk to me if you feel like you're drowning."

@Setsuna

There were a collective of varied responses to his words, and even more excitement to follow when Macradon entered. The man had a lighthearted presence when they first met, and he was close with Mari. He offered a slight nod as he spewed some more dark humor. Alkor could appreciate the sentiment. If you couldn't laugh in the face of death, how would you lift your spirits up? There was a difference between jeering the reaper and spitting on the memories of the fallen. It was the newer Player who seemed bent about his comment. We're done. He's sorry. Alkor glanced sidelong at the man. He could have spat something acerbic back, but it wouldn't resolve the situation amicably. If they were done, then they were done. He gave a slight shrug as his gaze fell off the man like snow that had grown too heavy on a leaf.

That was when he regarded Setsuna, and her question about why he'd come. Alkor knelt next to the massive slate and took a moment to review several more of the faceless names. People he had never met, people he would never have the chance to. People he knew, people he would never know again. He couldn't force a smile. Aincrad was perhaps the darkest part of his life, and the years that he'd counted already felt like midnight. He let out a small sigh before he glanced back toward the girl with a neutral expression. He wanted to smile for her benefit, but there were some days when a person simply didn't have the power to do even that. His gilded gaze was not unkind as he finally spoke.

"All of them," he told the woman finally. "Every name on this slab is a tragedy, not a single one any better or worse than another. But for some of them..." he placed a finger over a specific name, that of Uriel. He still remembered the moment where it had come to blows. The grave offense of placing a woman and her child in a world like this, and the inhuman act of using a child for something so vile. Mari was driven to madness against her will, and all that Alkor could do was seek justice in his fool crusade against perceived evil. As the façade broke down, he came to understand the gravity of his action. The cost and weight of a human life, blood on his hands that an ocean could not wash away. If the girl followed the name to the cause of death, she would find Alkor's own name there. "Some of them have deeper meaning to some of us."

His eyes softened as he remembered how long it took to stop telling himself that it was okay. The need to justify it was gone now, lost to the abyss of time. Instead, the guilt and shame that he was too much of a child to stop himself had scarred over and become a precious, horrific memory. The knowledge of good and evil dawned on him. Alkor knew now that nothing justified killing. Not even the act of murder itself. 

"The best thing you can do for them is forgive," he told the girl softly, "because when it's all over, they have to live forever with what they've done. Don't share their burden by sullying you own hands." Alkor reached up toward Setsuna and took her hands gently in his, cupping them palm up. "If you want to do right by the people who have died, don't add more corpses to the pile. Make sure it doesn't get any bigger."

Alkor finally found a faint, weak smile that tugged at the edge of his lips as he kept her gaze for a few heartbeats.

Then he let his hands fall to his sides. 

@Setsuna

He stared hard at the monument.

There was a time when many people believed his name should have been on it. He came infrequently just to prove to himself it wasn't. At this point in his life, every day he was alive was a new experience. The person he was before Aincrad had died on the ninth floor. When he woke from that deep slumber and realized he had fallen behind, Thom was struck with the shock of knowing he wasn't able to shoulder the entire world alone. Aincrad was an enemy that could not be soloed. 

That didn't stop him from being solitary, but it had fundamentally changed his approach to the world. People weren't just something he could ignore or brush to the side. He had to engage, and he had to evolve. 

His gaze snapped up when he heard several other people talking nearby, and the mood in the plaza heated up. They were going to fight, right in front of the monument to the slain? Alkor cocked an eyebrow and glanced toward @SketchSkirmish, @Setsuna, and @Recon as they threw different kinds of grease on the fire. One offended, another righteously indignant, and the last the apparent offender.

Alkor looked back to the stone and got closer, tracing fingers over the name of another human being. 

And the name of his killer.

"Alkor."

"Don't you think it's in poor taste to have this confrontation here?" he asked in a quiet voice. He knew Setsuna, and even wore a cloak she'd woven as they spoke. She was presumably an honorable girl, from what he remembered of her. Hopefully his words would strike the reasonable part of her mind. "This is a place for the names of those people who finally found peace," Alkor let his voice rise as he stood and glanced over the group. "I'll ask you again. Don't you think they deserve to rest?"

@Freyd - The Whisper in Shadows

The heads? Alkor registered Lessa's thought in an instant. His gaze snapped to the creature's elongated necks and immediately evoked imagery of one of Heracles' labors. The hydra-like appearance made a nauseous feeling bubble up in his stomach, and he suppressed it by lending all of his thought to a hasty reaction.

Instead of focusing on the strange beast, he flung himself forward with his blade and concentrated on attacking it. He shot forward and raked the curved sword along the throat of the beast, leaving a massive and gaping red wound in his wake. He did not activate a sword art intentionally, as this quest was intended to help Snow get stronger and simply slaying the mob without her getting her licks in did nothing to help her improve.

"Got it!" the dark swordsman howled out victoriously as he skidded to a halt behind the field boss. The sand weighed him down and dragged him deep to his ankles, but he managed to keep his balance. "Keep the rhythm going!" he encouraged. Every little bit counted, and when it came to stronger creatures that endured harder hits, that became especially true.

Now was the time for the newer player to become acquainted with hardships and the feeling of reward.

Aincrad had taught Thom some of the harshest lessons in his life. When he began his journey upward through floors, he thought to play a part. Alkor sought to see his way through the game as an avid role player, set apart from his actual persona and engaged with the scenario in totality. It began to slip the moment that the stakes were raised. The people he met weren't just faces behind a computer screen anymore. He wasn't just able to disassociate himself from the pixels. The avatar had become his flesh and blood, and if he was not careful, this world would be his tomb.

Something about her rhetorical question jogged those thoughts. They hadn't stirred recently, but now they burned and stung. He wasn't the same person who logged into Sword Art Online. The experiences he had in this world had fundamentally shaped him as a person, and in no small way brought him to appreciate the life he had. Unlike before, he had a reason to want to survive. He didn't just want to clear a path for the others. He wanted to see what was on the other side of it for himself.

Thom wanted to get there, and to truly live. 

"...it's not easy," he replied, "but it ain't all bad, either."

A cryptic answer for a cryptic question. Fairs fair. "That's a real funny way to look at it," he said honestly of her belief that a man lying to her face was only lying to himself. "But I can definitely tell you haven't seen the darkest side of this world yet. That's a good thing. I hope you never do."

There were some horrible people trapped in the game with them. Alkor had met some of them, and even brought his blade to bear on them. At least one life had ended as a result. He still felt the weight, even all these years later. Somehow, he knew that he would always remember. Still, he had grown from it. Good had come of it, and there were people who would live on and tell their own stories because someone else's ended. Deceptive, destructive people were bad for themselves, but Alkor believed that they were also bad for others. Or at least, they had the potential to be.

No person was inherently good, just as no person was inherently evil. The ones who were, though- he believed they had to be stopped.

"I'm definitely glad there's someone who thinks different from how I do," "because that means that there's always potential to find good in people. If it were my call to make, I don't think I'd look past the bad. This world needs more light, because so many of us are stuck in the dark."

They arrived in a few more steps, Alkor gesturing to the sign. He pushed the door open and held it for Kyra. "Here we are," he announced.

"Honestly, I don't come down to the First floor as often as I used to," he admitted with a laugh. "It kinda gets away from you, with all the grinding and leveling up, and..." he hesitated to say much more; if he admitted to knowledge of the Frontlines or battling Floor Bosses, how would she react? The woman didn't seem to be familiar with the harsher aspects of Aincrad.  She didn't even know the first thing about weapon skills. Alkor didn't want to unintentionally flex. "...well, you know."

The probability that she didn't know was high, but it wasn't really relevant. Instead, he shifted gears quickly and latched on to the topic at hand. "But when I used to haunt the Town of Beginnings, there was a quaint little dive near the edge of the residential area that made a nice hot drink in a pinch." He neglected to mention their menu included harder and heartier things as well, because his own proclivities were toward those. It wasn't what they were going for, though. "How about I show you the way there and we can let our friend here get back to work?"

The shopkeep seemed relieved to hear the conversation head in that direction, but he didn't chime in.

"It sounds like you have it pretty rough," he said finally. "People in general never really were my strong suit, so I wouldn't have the first idea about how to solve that problem you're having," Alkor explained as he slid out the door of the shop and held it open for her. "But with the protocols that deal with emotional distress offline, we really can use someone to help out with that kind of thing. You're doing important work," he praised.

"Ahahaha, you're probably right," Alkor smirked as he ruffled the back of his hair. It was odd for someone to ask him for help at all. He had some friends and they asked to quest from time to time, but this was different. "Maybe you can make something up." He gave a quick shrug as the Shopkeep sighed and went back to his business. Neither one of them was going to buy anything, and now they were loitering? Bah! Alkor turned back to the woman as she offered her thanks. 

"Oh, uh, I don't really need anything he's selling anyway, but I appreciate the thought," he said as the man gave a verbal snort to the slight. Alkor ignored him and offered the woman a more genuine smile. "I'm not really a coffee drinker, but I could go for some hot chocolate. I'm sure that's about the same." In reality, he missed days when it got blistery cold and he could indulge in a nice warm cup of cocoa. The last winter had gotten fairly cold, and he spent a few nights doing seasonal quests. Even built a snowman at one point. "But honestly, I wouldn't mind just... talking or something. It can get lonely when you're leveling up without a party." 

It was supremely out of character for the boy who had first logged into Sword Art Online to ever want to reach out to anyone. But Alkor wasn't that kid anymore. He'd grown, he'd made friends, and he had extended his comfort zone far beyond where he ever believed it could go. The man who got punched in the face for not recognizing why Bahr was upset with him now had empathy for others; and he wanted to protect them genuinely. He wanted to know how he could help them, and how he could forge bonds with them. Even when it hurt, even when he didn't know what to say or do, and even if he was powerless: Alkor would never give up again.

"I'm Alkor, by the way," he said as he extended his hand in greeting. "It's nice to meet you."

Students? 

Alkor tilted his head. If the woman was some kind of teacher, had she met her real world students inside the game and taken responsibility for them? What a strange thing that would have been. No, he decided, she must have meant something else because she immediately started talking about game mechanics. A schoolteacher would never focus on something so trivial. She wanted to settle an infantile argument between two gamers she called her "students." 

He was immediately interested in the situation.

"Honestly, it's a moot argument," he told her. "The Warhammer is a hard hitting weapon that focuses on single target damage and can inflict stun, while the Battle axe can do similar damage but to multiple targets but it lacks the status effect. An argument could be made that the axe overall deals more because it effects more targets I guess?

Alkor preferred Swords. He would always use them, but he made himself knowledgeable about other weapon types because it made him more aware of what his allies could do. ChaseR was probably the one who gave him the idea, but he was the one who actually folded it into his strategies. The other man just wanted to know what made him stronger personally. There was nothing wrong with that, though. 

"Without the technicality, though, neither one of them is better than the other." he shrugged. Alkor felt inclined to ask more about the situation and why she went out of her way just to solve the problem, but it didn't seem like any of his business. "I hope that helps?"

"Oh, no, you're good," Alkor took a step to the side and gestured for the woman to go ahead. "Go right ahead."

The merchant almost looked relieved when she arrived. His expression changed into something more positive, even excited. The prospect of a sale must have really been euphoric for him. "Yes, yes, how can I help you?" the proprietor asked with his hands clasped together in front of him. "I have just about anything you could want, and if I don't, I can certainly get whatever it is you're looking for."

Alkor quirked a brow. This man's business acumen was programmed incredibly high, and his customer service really showed for it. The stark contrast between how he spoke to the darkly dressed swordsman and the newcomer was uncanny. "Swords, spears, sabers- you name it, I have an answer for you."

He blinked at that. Preprogrammed responses were great for people who knew what they were looking for. Did she? He couldn't tell, though her equipment was low level at a glance. "If you happen to have any questions about weapon skills and sword arts, I can try to answer them," he interjected. The shopkeeper shot him a glance, but as what he offered might help with the sale, he did not readily object. "It can be tough to choose the right equipment. Sorry for assuming based on your equipment, I don't mean any offense."

The first floor was hardly premier in terms of shops. Vendors lined the main thoroughfare and were smattered across the landscape almost at random; but few of them carried weapons that Alkor could actually use to great effect. At the very least, not anymore. He was stronger by far, so only the top swordsmiths in Aincrad could act as his armorers. 

That didn't stop him from perusing. Aesthetically, some of the shops boasted gorgeous and exotic wares. They were worth indulging in visibly, if not dropping top dollar for. He kept his hands in his pockets as he window shopped, much to the chagrin of some eager entrepreneurs. 

"Hey buddy, no malingering. I've got customers who actually wanna buy things from me."

"Yeah?" he asked, amused. "Where at? I've been here ten minutes and haven't seen anyone else."

The man's face turned a bright shade of pink as he clamped his mouth shut. Alkor offered him a wry smirk. "Maybe you'll get lucky with the next customer?" he suggested, not particularly helpful. 

"...whatever, dude."

The blade burned a brilliant orange.

Setsuna's mirage gave way to an inferno that raged forward. Fire and ice joined as one as Alkor's steaming breath billowed free from his lips. "Rrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaagh!!!"

His weapon rocketed upward, slicing through the banshee as his body lifted off. Spinning in the air, the sword dancer kicked off of the ghostly creature as she wailed her discontent to the world. Alkor could see everything around him as he sailed through the air. It elapsed in slow motion. From Raidou to Gaius and back to Setsuna, the watched as he landed neatly on his feet.

The curved sword carried through the momentum of his flip, twisting in from a new angle as the Banshee failed miserably to contain his onslaught. He cut her time and again, covering her ethereal body in violent streaks of obscured, Crimson data. Her digital life spilled out and wept back to Aincrad, and with his final stroke, Alkor condemned her.

The field boss erupted in a torrent of pixels.

Alkor wasted no time.

While he was certain Setsuna could handle herself in a fight, while he was there she wouldn't have to. He raced forward and cut through the rest of the members of Firm Anima, blade held out to one side. It was a weapon made for slashing, and that became evident in each stroke that the swordsman made. Powerful, violent strokes that cleaved through pixelborn creatures with zero resistance left pillars of red data streaming toward the cavern ceiling. He slid out of the rhythm and his feet skid across the floor as he twisted his body to face back toward the party.

With four more dead, their duty here would be done quickly.

"I've got your back," he reassured Setsuna, but also the others. 

Alkor fell back into a defensive stance. While they were definitely ahead in this situation, there was always the chance that it wouldn't last. Field bosses were dangerous. He had learned that the hard way against the Twinfire Phoenix. He watched each zombie and the Banshee in turn, waiting for any kind of sign they might go on the offensive.

ID# 179326

Initial Roll Value: 16

Giving or Receiving:

Final Roll Value:

"I heard it," he confirmed as he saw Lessa reach out a hand to help one of the straggling Players. There were some he recognized and others he had never seen before. Many of them had been involved in the Tanabata festival, and he had fought to protect them from the seemingly unkillable vanguard. Just like back then, the game had suddenly and emphatically began trying to kill them. Unlike before however, this attack was a force of nature. There was no fighting back, at least from what he could see. There was only flight.

"I don't know what's going on, but it seems like we aren't gonna be able to get back to the Teleport Gate," Alkor assessed as he glanced back down toward the settlement below. He could see NPCs struggling, flailing, and being sucked down into the bog. If he strained, he could see the streams of data from where they were being recycled by Cardinal. 

With a grim expression, he spoke again. "Safe bet, we can't use crystals to get out either. If that's the case, it's a survival game. We either win, or we're dead."

How fitting for Aincrad, already set up in such a manner, to create a twisted event that had almost identical parameters to its own. While it was nothing they weren't conditioned to by now, it was absolutely disheartening. Until now, the game had been fair. Fight monsters, do quests, level up, clear floors.

The rules were changing. They either had to change with them, or die.

"Does anyone need a hand?" he called out as they began to group together with the rest of the survivors. This way, it would be easier to manage saving someone if they lagged behind.

"Yeah, I noticed a much lower output relative to other folks. I bought into the weapon thinking it would give me a higher crit rating, but without the base damage being relevant it barely even breaks even," Alkor lamented after Chase mentioned his database and the observations he had made about Curved Swords. "Its pretty unfortunate honestly, because if the two were just a little more balanced in the right way, it'd be one hell of a weapon."

With a sigh and a shrug, he left the topic to lie. It wasn't like they could change the program. Still, he had plans to- in the future- make the shift to a weapon that would make his damage output more relevant. That gave him some comfort. 

 There was an awkward pause before Chase asked about why people would think he was dead, and Alkor took a breath. He didn't like telling the story, but...

"It was the Ninth floor boss fight. We were fighting a giant Molten Hydra, and it got one of the other Players. She wasn't strong- shouldn't have been there. But, she was eager, so we didn't ask questions. Once she died, the rest of us started floundering, morale was down. At the time, other than Zelrius and Daeron, I was the strongest DPS on the Frontlines. I got cocky and thought I'd try to save everyone by taking the boss out myself."

He looked away and even closed his eyes.

"It caught me in its jaws and started to drag me down into the magma. Held me down as the environment damage rapidly depleted my health bar. Everyone watched me seemingly die as I managed to get my hand on a teleport crystal and warped out just in time."

Alkor managed a sad smile. 

"When I woke up, two years had passed. I had fallen into a coma. The shock must have put me under, but... they had already cleared their way to the 24th floor. Without me."

"I have, yeah," Alkor confirmed. 

"Sorry it took so long, I was just waking up when you sent the message. It takes a bit for me to get going." He wasn't the type to make excuses for himself and he knew that wasn't going to win him any favors, but it was worth saying. He liked Chase well enough to at least give the guy a legitimate reason for being late. "I've gained a few levels and made some adjustments to my skills. Ideally, I won't be completely useless this time around," he said with a laugh, and yet he was more serious than he cared to admit.

"Its been a bit since we last teamed up. Gives me the impression you've been pretty busy yourself, am I wrong?" The guy was abrasive, so Alkor anticipated a blunt response like 'of course.' He was a little direct and didn't seem like the type who understood sarcasm well, so he doubted he'd get anything like that. Still, he braced himself for it. 

"I'm almost back to the point where I can join the Frontlines again. Just a few more levels," he added. "Not gonna lie, it's gonna be nice to see a bunch of the people who probably still think I'm dead," he grinned.

Neither of them wanted to believe that the event was linked to the boss battle, and yet, the timing was fairly uncanny. They would have to put the thought in their back pockets for now though, because more pressing things were afoot. They managed to break free of the muck, mostly- it continued to accumulate and the depth and intensity of the rain intensified until it had become more than just a flash flood.

It reminded him of a biblical story, but it was a far cry from divine wrath. This was black water, so thick and inky in color that you couldn't imagine the bottom. Alkor immediately considered this more demonic than of any deity. 

There were others now, visibly struggling with the despoiled, turgid liquid. He called out, "Does anyone need help?" He looked around the lot of them to ensure there was no one visibly floundering. By now, they had enough high ground that if someone were just on the cusp of being swallowed up they could at least get a hand to them and pull them out.

Hopefully that would be enough to keep anyone from dying.

Alkor began leading Lessa uphill as the rain continued to beat down. Their clothes, their armor was soaked and dyed in the strange ichor. Fortunately if there was an odd scent to it, he had failed to notice it yet. For all intents and purposes, it was merely annoying albeit dangerous normal rain. 

If it didn't stop soon, it would be annoying albeit dangerous flooding, and possibly a death sentence to anyone trapped on the floor. From their new vantage point, Alkor could see that the town was slowly but most certainly being devoured in its entirety by the strange phenomenon. It might be minutes, maybe less before he couldn't even make out any of the buildings in the distance.

It was good that they had not stopped. This situation was already getting hairy. "Okay, I'd like to try and figure out whats going on, but I don't think we're going to have time for it right now. We should prioritize helping other people get to high ground and riding out the storm together. NPCs generally responsible, Players definitely don't, so they have priority," he spoke authoritatively, albeit with no small amount of concern in his words. 

"...didn't the Frontliners just move to start the boss fight?" he questioned suddenly. Could the two things somehow be correlated? Lessa had mentioned she wanted to meet up because she could use someone to talk to, and how Bahr was about to go to the boss encounter. 

But he'd never really stopped to think if it was possible that an event might trigger outside of the boss fight. With Cardinal, anything was possible. 

Alkor hoped that Chase didn't expect him to be super prompt. There was something about getting up and ready to go that made the man lag, hard. Early morning quests were the worst kind because Thom had never been a morning person. Still, he'd committed to it when he woke up and groggily saw the message above his head.

Aincrad didn't have the decency to wait until you got out of bed to show you those. Alkor muttered something about how Cardinal was more of a bitch than his mother as he crawled out of the bed and equipped all of his clothing. Since he was going to be questing, he would shower afterward. Might as well work up a sweat first.

He hoofed it to the teleporter and called out the command, then appeared in a flash of silvery light only a few steps from the other man. "Sorry I'm late. I was still in bed," he explained.

Alkor stared up at the ominous clouds that only seemed to get darker with time. It was like a shadow cast over the land that sought to empty out the light and banish it forever. The only solace they had were the wild streaks of lightning that stained the sky red, the color of blood. He disliked it.

"No, look there," he pointed. The murky, viscous rain pooled heavily on the ground beneath their feet and as time elapsed mere seconds, it seemed to encroach. The swordsman had a sinking feeling, and he did not want his virtual body to buy into the sensation. "I don't want to find out of that's a coincidence or not, personally, but if it is we would never make it to the gate before this stuff swallowed us whole. We need to get to higher ground."

He started moving again before she gave a proper answer, indicating that they should walk and talk. He knew that she wouldn't give too much protest when there were lives at stake. "What do you think? An event would make sense, but would would trigger an event this... dark?"

@Lessa

He managed to get his footing back as he put the muck behind him, now genuinely concerned with the townspeople around him. Their instinct was to shelter themselves indoors, but if his theory was correct, the walls and doors wouldn't do anything to stop the coming flood. Before any of that mattered, though, he had to find the reason he had come here in the first place.

She must have been nearby, because this was their designated meeting place. How was it that every time they intended to meet up, something crazy decided to happen? Alkor moved around one of the homes and almost immediately saw the trademark blonde hair.

"Lessa!" he called out, "are you okay?"

First, check on her condition. Was she hurt? Had the rain impeded her at all? Then they could work together to figure out what the hell was going on. "We need to get to keep moving. Do you know what's going on?"