Freyd

>♪< Like the second hand spinning wise the clock towards destiny’s irrepressible advance, Montjoy’s figure stretched and pivoted across the room. Drawn as tides are to the moon, glossing over every surface of the space, marking time in mementos beneath the slice of ending’s vanguard, a black needle hurtling at agony’s glacial pace… … a violin’s silenced song … a bottle’s dreams turned to bitter vinegar …a wish for better days, its hopeful message burnt to ashes …. a cursed infatuation set against the flame’s enticing serenade

Sensing opportunity as Mari struggled not to wretch, Akir’s polearm drove forward in a lunge, only to be parried, deflected by an unexpected interrupt. The formless black figure with azure eyes wielding a sword of utter nothingness, had blocked the blow and drawn the failing mob’s ire, if only for a moment. “Stay out of this! She’s mine.” Akir seethed, her words slurring through failing mouth and cheeks. “You know the rules. Don’t interf-” The gemini’s eyes widened with fear as the black blade flickered and reappeared at he throat, its bearer sidestepping slowly before pulling away.

"But it doesn't mean I like to watch anything suffer." "Yes it does! Of course it does. Don't lie to yourself. I've felt your glee at tinkering with with baubles that could wipe out whole villages." She spat with disdain, a loose tooth lost to the decaying effects afflicting her failing form. As their duel wore on, Akir's preternatural beauty became increasingly marred by the effects of repeated applications of blight and venom from Contagion's touch. Bits of her skin were flaking off, leaving dandruffy contrails as she wove and danced across the clearing with persistent agility. Not

"Tired? TIRED?! I've done nothing but rest in your miserable, withering innards! NO. I AM NOT FUCKING TIRED. That's your stupid shtick." Try as she might, the gemini failed to free herself from the system's restraining shackles, raging at her nearby enemy even as the ginger curiously coddled the very creatures she claimed to hate. "Soft spot for redheads, huh? Yeah. We can definitely have fun with that. Just like I'll have whatever's left of him when I'm finished with you. Lancaster and I will have such a good time. I'll remind him of every little spot you used to prod and

EAL: Alchemist quest eval. Name: Boredom's Absolution Your Profession: Alchemist Your Rank: Rank 0 Roll ID: 249042 Roll Result: LD 20+, CD 12+ Item Type: Salve Tier: T1 Quality: Perfect Enhancements: Antidote 3 Description: Scented strangely like dandelions and meadow grass, this simple balm eases the careworm as surely as a summer's day can banish foul fatigue's blight. Link: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/42449-pt-sp-01-nothing-is-forgotten/?do=findComment&comment=699691

Thread Closing: 3x T1 Field bosses (3x 100 exp) = 300 exp Mari receives: 15,933 EXP (Word Count [6514/5*12] + Field Bosses [300] + 0% Guild Rank bonus) 2,790 col (1 page [400] + 15% P5 Reward [2,390] + 0% Guild Rank bonus) 1x Matriarch's Stinger | 249040a 1x Snowfrost | 249040b 1x Sand Armor Potion | 249040c 1 Mon Freyd receives: 27,673 EXP (Word Count [6514/5*20] + Field Bosses [300] + 5% Guild Rank bonus) 4,358 col (1 page [0] + 15% P5 Reward [4151] + 5% Guild Rank bonus) 1x Matriarch's Stinger | 249040d 1x Snowfrost | 249040e 1x Sand Armor Potion |

Black steel scraped silkily against the laquered wood of its saya, shiny Veritas an unpleasant reminder of terrible purpose and duty combined. Inside, Freyd's heart was broken, but he'd long since consigned it to an understudy's role in the face of the iron resolve required to see them all to the end. He'd grind it into the dust in sacrifice, if required. Rai knew it. His words rang true. Freyd would do what he could not Both people standing before him knew were ultimately guided by their hearts, each in their own disparate ways. Not him. Freyd was kin to a machine, cold, calculating,

"Call it an identity crisis, if you wish. Spend too much time wearing too many masks and you start to forget who you are, or which priorities matter most." Freyd spoke truth more often than most people realized. The best lies were often most effectively concealed behind it. Nuance was often the issue, skewing the meaning with double or even triple entendre, layering the right proportions of semblance and believability to brew a concoction the audience would willingly swallow. In this case, his candor was remarkably stark and poor meal for the palette. Unvarnished truth was rarely savory,

"Err... what the?" Grey bushy brows rose high over a pair of brilliant blue eyes, both clearly surprised by several things in the unfolding scenario. First, that sweater. Bold, in a 1980s sort of way, and assertively retro for this era. Second, the boarlet, somehow still alive, despite an arrow sticking out of its side that was nearly long than the beast itself, from snout to stern. Last, but not least, the poor wounded fellow - Theo, apparently - who seemed to be having a hard time with all of the above. "Freyd," came his jovial reply, beard scrunching in a mix of amused confusion a

Three hours later, fully expecting Sam not to follow doctor's orders, Freyd returned to her house. A quiet turn of the handle, helped by the conveniently cached key from his timely departure, let him back inside. Groceries materialized, summoned from inventory. There was no need to be lollygagging around with arms full of foodstuffs. He'd favoured premade sandwiches, cheeses, breads and deli meats, along with a bottle of wine he'd been eager to try for awhile. This approach likewise avoided unnecessary kitchen clatter that might wake what he hoped was a soundly sleeping Sam. Once the

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ Freyd listened dispassionately, unmoved as Lancaster confirmed every last one of his suspicions and assertions, making poor effort to deflect his own selfish nature. "It IS about me, I want this. I am willing to fight for this. For Mari.” “For your prize?” The words snap in a biting gust of crisp frigid air rifling through the nearest shattered window. “For the treasure you cling to in desperate hope that it will keep a drowning man afloat? The same man who would snuff the candle that saves him the instant a shinier blaze comes into view? I know you, Lancaster. I know

A flash bang of holy lightning pulsed once again from his palm, the crystal triggering again even though Freyd didn't know it could. Momentarily distracted by the white rock's passively activated repulsor field, it took a half second to realize that the boss had tried to reassert its darkness field and failed. Apparently intending to alter its shape while veiled, the sudden shattering hadn't left it enough time to properly assemble its ruse. "Ummm... look, Belregor... dude. You do know the definition of insanity, right?" Looking between the twin Minas, the knock-off spectral knight tu

“A jar of sentiment? Not a bad answer, actually. Better than peanut butter.” More words might have come if he hadn’t born the full Mari being tossed onto his torso like a rag doll. “You learning to fly or something? Eww. Mari-nated sand.” A grin, despite himself, as she peeled herself off again and he was forced to roll and avoid the angry bulette. She’d stabbed it good and hard, the boss’s health dipping into solid yellow territory. "Despite what purpose the vessel has….Argh… Whatever...just...some bullshit about it not being alone or discarded. I guess." Grin faded t

"Funny that...." “Hmm? How so?" "Just know that some people around you, are already at that risk." “Too many, at all times." Plainly spoken and unsurprised, but not inconsiderate of her meaning. "You never really get used to it, but every tank learns to deal with that kind of burden. Even in recent raids, the bosses have been wielding new mechanics to force tanks into better managing their aggro. Old pros like Shield and Raidou would slough it off with ease, but newer arrivals are typically less prepared and less experienced. Less wise, they make more mistakes. In the worst

Returning to Evangeline's shop as the sun began its downward trek in the western skies, her appointed task didn't bother him in the slightest. A days sojourn in solitude had done him more good than he could ever have imagined. Maybe he wasn't quite ready to find the game's perfect panacea, or a conveniently crafted cure for NPC-slaying ebola. Those moments would come. More importantly, he'd found a desperately needed reprieve and the wisdom needed to recognize its worth. It was a good day. "Here you go, teach. It's a tad messy, but I'm proud of it nonetheless." Proffered for inspec

"I can run into town and fetch us drinks easily enough. No need to take unnecessary risks." Always looking out for her, for everyone. The gentleness of Freyd's smile conflicted with the violence still cascading down around them, but the man was a walking paradox at the best of times. "I understand." Referencing the strange tale of Alkor's plight, the man's legend was written under strange circumstances and possibly not of his own making. Something to relate to. "Frankly...I'm a little worried about you. What's going on? If you need to be elsewhere we can put a pin in this for

Cringing with mild false sympathy at the placement of her blow, Freyd's blade flared with black flame as he channeled his next attack. "Died? Oh, right. Yes. You did mention that was a thing." Lunching into a flanking tumble up the curving surface of a nearby frozen embankment - impressive in heavy armor - Freyd's blade flared as it spiral cut the field boss' bulky torso. The entire mob collapsed into disk-shaped lozenges the size of frozen kiddie pools, cascading down all around the meadow before bursting into puffy fractal clouds and joining the ambient flurries native to the flo

“Alkor?” A familiar name more closely associated with Lessa, if memory served. “We’ve been in a raid or two together. Never on the same squad, that I can recall. There was one time when we went to aid a blighted treant, but it was so long ago that I don’t really remember the details, or how it ended.” "Despite everything I tended to be ....maybe a little too foolish back then." The monster reared its mountainous head, roaring frozen spittle at them in the form of razor sharp shards, even as Mari launched herself up its frozen torso and making a disturbingly accurate impression of

"I am either really looking forward to the day when you stop speaking in riddles, or I'm really not." A redundant statement that captured all angles yet explain none. It seemed an apt response as Freyd sliced his blade in line with an imagined horizon. The actual one was out of sight thanks to the cavern walls and mountainous layers beyond, but the pattern held true nonetheless. A single spun arc, rounded with fancy footwork saw most of the fire maw pack decimated. Only the boss and one minion remained, the latter attempting to gum Freyd's bracers with its barbeque breath. "That

"So... yeah. It sucks, and I'm still trying to deal with it, but I thought you would want to know." Seated on a set of dusty wooden crates stacked just inside the main gates to the Town of Beginnings, Freyd sipped at his mug of vanilla-scented coffee. Atop the crates, a small black porcelain bowl filled with ether sat, filled to the brim, but untouched. "She died well, Marv, or so I'm told. Most of the details are more than a little fuzzy." A strained chuckle sought to lighten the mood as plated metal gauntlet patted the grey unruly hair upon his crown, and mostly fresh feature girding hi

"Still sorta talking in riddles, eh? Yeah. Guess I can't really criticize on that count." Attention turned to new accoutrements as she flashed lobe bring his way, her armor and stature already impressing. "I suppose I'm glad you've found wind for your wings." Freyd's face scrunched up, still struggling to figure out why his own nature still fought so hard to accept this woman's claims, despite lifetimes of other memories proving them true. Perhaps because it was his own nature to mistrust; to poke and prod at every little detail he encountered until something curious broke free from the

A second bow, more deeply bent in gratitude for her offering, Freyd felt strangely moved by the old woman's generosity. "What have I been missing," he asked himself, as she departed. Every day since his first foray from the grand gates of the Town of Beginnings, farewells waved to Marv but never reciprocated, he'd been lurching from mission to mission without end. A few spare moments snared by the virtue of good friends who'd dragged him along, looking out for wellbeing he hadn't fully appreciated. Reclining in a paltry bit of shade behind rubble field wall, loose stoned shifting at

A portly woman waved at him from a nearby farmhouse, kindly in look and bearing, wrapped in no less than three separate aprons for reasons he could not understand. "Would you like some water? I've been watching you toil for hours out here." She jabbed a heavily calloused thumb over her shoulder. "My sons and husband are in the far field. I was about to bring them some, and saw you looking absolutely parched." "Am I?" Freyd chuckled, gazing down at his sweat-caked outfit, dirt rubbed in the fabric's every fold from a day spent digging in the dirt. "Heh. I suppose I am. Funny h

"This should be enough, but..." A pleasantly warm summer breeze wafting fresh scents from the nearby meadow. Snacking on a few scattered berries still left in the bushes by the roadside. Even the pressing glare of sunlight on his pale skin proved difficult to discount, especially when it also happened to be productive. Shimmering translucent blue, a pop up manifested to his left, beckoned by stray fingers in search of an excuse to remain. "Oh, look at that. We can probably rank up on Foraging if we stick with this a while longer. Can't miss such a pressing priority, now, can we?"

"Fertilizer? Nitrates, right? Ugh. Forgot about the smell." High school science class was a long way back. A few locals traveling to market greeted him as they passed. A pleasant nod and finger touch to the brim of the broad straw hat he'd picked up from a kindly old man making them by the roadside made him start to appreciate the simplicity of the task. "Maybe this was what Raidou really needed and wanted in all his endless foraging: a sense of quiet serenity too often lacking in a certain occupation's toil" He'd had his own brushes with fatigue, increasing in frequency of late.