Freyd

"I really hate this bloody dog."  Groaning after a searing, magma-drool laden bite had tried to sever his left shoulder Freyd watched as the glowing globules of bile sloughed off thanks to Zandra's timely intervention, adding to those already melting parts of her instead.  "Oh, uh... thanks?  You're okay there, right?"  The unhinged healer's maddened, yet cheerful, grin signaled disturbingly to the positive.  Healers. Weird, but effective.

"Fine, puppers.  You want to play it that way?  Let's see how you like this."

Clenching the void-like wraps hard, Freyd's teeth audibly clenched and ground against one another as oblivion within the artifact weapon sought to devour the digits daring to squeeze at pure nothingness.  As though it might somehow relent to existence?  Purile.  Even the pain suppression algorithms struggled with that one.  All around them, shadows and darkness bent, as light suddenly fell prey to an alternate attraction or distraction.  Each of Cerberus' heads found themselves yanked by the leashes of their own shades to turn and force their gaze upon the Whisper.  Freyd's eyes, meanwhile, had faded to utmost black, as if the void had consumed him from within, just like it almost had with Orgoth.

[waiting]

In a surprising act of courtesy for someone renown for irreverence, Freyd actually pulled back his trademark cowl to expose an unruly mop of black hair slovenly draped over a pair of piercing blue eyes.  Slender, arched brows gave him a slightly predatory appearance, but his face was otherwise surprisingly commonplace.  

"Erm... I'm pretty sure the king is the one that did said betraying, actually," he offered Wulfrin, eyes boggling a bit by way of explanation, "but the quest provides little to no detail.  It might explain the dilapidated castle motif and bloodstained upholstery surrounding his throne.  Just a guess."

Offering a short, informal bow in response to Nymoria's introduction, he made sure to wait until the action was complete before responding to other outstanding queries.

"We're going to challenge the Forgotten Time King, or FTK, as some prefer to call him.  He used to be considered one of the game's most dangerous mobs, but seems to have suffered some setbacks on that count since the last patch."  He shrugged, as if there was no other way to explain it.  "For all we know, this whole simulation has been running for years without any downtime maintenance.  Maybe his code is just breaking down over time?"

Ciela's gift of armor brought a mischievous grin to the Whisper's plain face.

"Functional.  I like it.  Dude must really have a hots for you," he added with a wink.  "If a guy brings you a box of chocolates, he's either inept or desperate.  If he fixes your car or brings you housewear or defrags your hard drive, those are signs of true love."  He completely left out how he'd randomly given Elora a copper rose during one of their first encounters, having no idea the significance it would later come to hold.  Such admissions were far too sappy for a proper ribbing, and the two neo-novices had certainly seemed to be spending a lot of time together.  Best to just tease them a bit and let nature take its course.  Having just discovered the power such feelings could evoke, he would hardly interfere or deny them the same hope and opportunity.

A small shadow stirred in his resting cowl at the offer of treats from Ciela, Persi's azure eyes with telltale horizontal slot irises glimmering from within the folds.  Darting out from beneath Freyd's hoody the instant the honey bun was revealed, the inky mongoose devoured every crumb before perching herself on hind legs and observing the newly-minted sea otter counterpart.  Freyd couldn't help but wonder whether they were secretly sharing war stories on some familiar-only chat channel that their owners could never access.

"Right... so... FTK.  Yeah.  Just make sure he stays focused on me and everything will be fine.  Probably... mostly.   Err.. he's this way."  Leading them through the twisted mine-cart strewn pathways and tunnels of Tomoika, Freyd soon had them passing beyond the gates and into the wilds of floor twenty one.  

"Don't go that way," he added, pointing towards a series of darkened tunnels overrun with iridescent blue webs and replete with glowing red eyes sequestered behind them.  "Chittering Halls, or somesuch.  Lots of badness.  Good for loot, though.  We can hit that another time."  Traveling with speed and purpose, Freyd led them to the appointed site while purposely avoid other potential hazards.  It was plainly obvious that he'd spent more time than most scouting or scouring this floor.

"Honey!  I'm home!"  Cheerful words echoed hollowly off scorched walls now barely more than barren stone marred by the trappings of strife. Striding unceremoniously as they passed beneath the barbican and making their way towards the central keep, their odd guide paid no heed to the dozens of corpses strewn about the courtyard, many clad in armor or sharing their weapons with each other in most unsportsmanlike manners.  A coup seemed the most likely inference, especially since what little remained of their clothing matched in the ways that mattered.

"Oh, thank goodness.  Bob!  You're still here."  A lone figure slumped in its throne failed to stir, the spear thrust through its chest and piercing beyond the wood chairback made sure it wouldn't topple over.  Bones from a more regal figure laid slumped and partially toppled down the dais at its feet.  "It's that time again, friendo.  And I'm pretty sure you already shit yourself, so it's long past due that you got off the throne."

As if on queue, baleful blue fire sparked to unlife within the dead thing's mostly skinless skull, a rictus grin offered as its only response as it pulled itself off the implement of its mortal doom, ready to add to the local body count.

"Just give us a minute, would you?" Freyd's shadow stood in his place, the man himself having somehow already traveled across the room to piledrive the epic-looking baddie from behind.  Sadly, the would-be King was not amused and whirled with uncanny speed to smash and splatter the sprawling Whisper into the far wall.

"Ouch.  Make that two minutes."

***

ph for grind thread

***

stats go here

"Bitch got what she finally deserved!"  Ryland just couldn't help himself once Calas had fallen, calling out his old nemesis though she was now nothing more than a sprinkling of glitter on deck boards some fifty feet back.  All of her men had fallen with her, leaving them all still being swarmed by an especially surly bunch of pirates.

"Dude," Freyd barked, smashing a random swashbuckler hard enough to send him flying back against the advancing throng like a wrecking ball and slowing their chase.  "You really need to shut it."

Glancing sideways, Freyd managed to pull out a healing crystal to benefit the lot.  And, somehow, fate seemed to be smiling on the mouthy dockmaster as none of their assailants managed to find purchase in his hide with any weapons.

"Please tell me the service skiff is still at the end of the span, Ryland, or we're all just taking an extended sprint off a very long plank."

"It's there.  It's there!"  Repeating it somehow didn't make his words any more reassuring.

"Then that's our only chance." The distance wasn't far, but fending off several dozen angry mobs while they boarded a vessel barely larger than a dinghy was going to take some doing.

"Thin them out a bit, Kat.  If you can.  I'll grab the rest of their attention and buy us all as much time as I can.  Don't hesitate," he added, with dubious finality.  "We'll only get one try at this."

***

Mob's Turn

Loot:

Bustling in through the front door, Freyd carried a long ream of paper that might have passed as annual gift man's naughty and nice list, the tail end trailing out into the street behind him.  Persi was playfully batting at it like some sort of string toy.  The Whisper, meanwhile, was wholly absorbed by its contents and clearly crunching some serious math behind that silly cowl.

"Hey, Kat.  Need to restock the larder before we get too close to the next raid, and everyone else at the guild is tied up with other business these days.  Not to mention that your goods have always proven reliable, so I'm sorry in advance."

A flick of his wrist produced a pre-populated order slip as for twenty antidotes.

"Somehow, this one also made me think of you."

She swore he was grinning madly as he left to continue his shopping barrage, the jingling bells of the shop door signaling his equally swift departure.

***

(Need 20)

Name: Squelch
Your Profession: Alchemist
Your Rank: [Leave Blank]
ID: [Leave Blank]
Roll: [Leave Blank]
Item Type: Salve
Tier: 1 (tierless)
Quality: Perfect
Enhancements: Antidote 3
Description: A soft spread with a pleasant odor that makes a disturbing suction sound once applied, and is considered inappropriate for younger players.
Post Link: [Leave Blank]

Having wrapped up a quick visit to The Knight Shift while he waited, Freyd continued his clandestine patronage of Ren's shop in the hopes that they would continue to bear fruit and foster the growth of new players.  Stationing an agent to watch his back had also kept opportunistic riff-raff and a few disgruntled neighbours off his back, to good effect.  'Plans within plans,' he thought, quoting one of his favourite novels, even as he spotted the gaggle of newbs gathering in Tomoika's square, two of them already known to him.  Not so newb no more.  Good.

Nodding as if just finishing a hands-free call, Freyd smiled from beneath his black trademark cowl, hints of his steel blue eyes glinting at them with mischievous mirth and fellowship as he approached.  Dressed in overly casual dark clothing that looked more like lounge wear than battle armor, he looked especially and deliberately under-dressed to be taking on what had once been called one of the most feared and ferocious mobs outside of a labyrinth, anywhere in Aincrad.  Only the black-on-black, void-like ribbon wraps tied meticulously around his palms belied an otherwise informal and falsely irreverent appearance.  No one takes the fool seriously.  It was a lesson taken to heart.

"You've both been busy," he began, nodding in satisfied admiration at the visible changes in Wulfrin and Ciela's gear and demeanor.  The Whisper's trade was appraisal, but he worked hard to extend that talent to measuring players as well as their gear.  It frequently proved a more useful tool and application than merely for bartering wares.  The newcomer quickly drew his attention, and especially her notably unconventional charm.

"Who might this be?  Another new companion?"  

First meetings were so important, and carried their own formal cadence, especially in Japanese culture.  How each participant to the conversation replied would reveal much about themselves, their backgrounds, and their facades.  Or, he could just be stuffing his foot in his mouth.  Either worked.  Fools never need to be perfect, and should actively avoid any such impression.

Spewed forth from a harrowing dive through the thin veils and shades cast by the Magistrate's throne, Freyd had escaped a solo fight with a boss he felt might otherwise have been much beyond his own abilities.  Suppressive effects of the gossamer webs spanning the treetops about her lair prevented complete success and shunted him sideways into never-never land.  In this case, that meant emerging from a crook between two butt-cheeks of a particularly gnarled oak on the outskirts of the Fire Forest, darker, nastier cousin.  The Flaming Heebie-Jeebies Forest?

Farted out the ass of the tree, Freyd gracelessly tumbled the extra two dozen feet to the ground, thoughtfully snagging every single branch along the way.  So nice of them to try to break my fa...OUCH. A minor mushroom cloud formed from displaced fallen leaves marked the Whisper's unceremonious point of impact, feet and hands sticking out like he'd been drowned in a giant bowl of pretzels with his head and torso buried beneath the pile.

"Uuuuuughhhhh..."

It was a long and exhausted groan, the type that often carried a story or twelve in its backstory, not that he had anyone yet available for the telling.  So, instead, he just flopped back and let his cowl rest upon the pillow provided by these ever-thoughtful trees and let the last of the lattice of razor-sharp cuts lacing his battered form heal while he took a much-needed moment for himself. And then a hand grabbed his and yanked him out of this cushy repose, because fuck if the universe can every grant a man even a fraction of a moment's rest.

"Oh, for the love of..."

The sword art already building in his other injured hand fizzled the moment he recognized the figure staring him in the face - or at least her chest was from this angle.

"Booba?!"  It was familiar.  "Wait. Mina?"  Something thumped him in the forehead as his rescuer dumped him back into the pile for his candor, sending up another crunchy puff of tree dandruff.  Yup.  Definitely Mina.

"What the fuck are you doing here?  Alone?!  ARE YOU NUTS?"  Scrambling awkwardly back to his feet, she could see that he was ripped and shredded, like he'd lost a fight against a swarm of bees, if bees were actually flying Ginsu knives.  It was rare to catch Freyd off guard.  It was even rarer - nay, unfathomable - to actually find him worried to any degree matching his present state.  And what could possibly have dealt him this kind of damage? His head snapped around to look up at the canopy, limned with the same familiar red-streaked gossamer drifting lazily in decay-scented breeze.

"Shit, Mina.  We can't be here.  Do you have any idea where you are?"

***

Sharing remaining portions of Gugnir’s Shard (Untradeable/Unique/Reusable Consumable): Crème Brûlée Tray | ACC 2 | Feast (5/6)

Notes:
1. Mega Slime Farm activated (+10% EXP for thread)
2. CS is inactive for this thread
3. Stats retained from scouting thread: here.
4. Freyd also consumes Terra Firma scale from: here.
5. Changing totem from Yamata no Orochi to Tanos
6. Consumes Mega-Duper Anti-Everything Sauce (Salve) | Antidote 3 | 197145
7. Consumes Flavoured Yogurt Shot (snack) | T4 Perfect Snack | Probiotics 3 | 217008

Freyd | HP: 1311/1311 | EN: 152/152 | DMG: 24 | MIT: 123 | EVA: 5 | ACC: 5 | BH: 72 | LD: 12 | PROSP: 3 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | TXV: 32 | TRLBLD | PARA IMMUNE | REC: 8 | V.D.: 144 | Dote: 3/3 | Prob: 36

Full Stats:

Sitting in solitude at a small table set in a remote corner of the newly minted Witherwind Rest, Freyd stared at two objects resting on the table before him.  The first was a chest board of simple make, with pieces painstakingly carved by hand from random pieces of wood collected from across the explored levels of Aincrad.  Judging by the layout of its opposing birch and black walnut factions, the game had been in progress for some time, though there was no evidence of a second player in the room.  Both teams were deadlocked with moves and counter-moves layered a dozen deep in twice as many different ways.  Had it actually been a real battlefield, everything would have been ready to explode in a frenzy of violence that would have laid waste to everyone.

Beside the board, held open by slender, spider-like fingers, was a little black book filled to the brim with secretive scrawlings - a recipe book, of sorts, for Armageddon.  Tracing the lettering with a fingertip, Freyd reached for the page's edge and delicately closed the book like one might replace the panel on a ticking bomb.  A sigh escaped his lips even as the same hand pushed a pawn forward, setting catastrophe into motion, or may... just taking a chance.

Pocketing the book, Freyd quickly surveyed his inventory to ensure that all required items were at the ready.  Like they were ever not.  The man was a structural redundancy, buttressing half the player base without most of them knowing it because that was what was needed.  That was his word - his vow: to offer hope.  Hope required an arsenal, and its component parts were people.  

:Come on, Persi," he called out, rousing the tiny black blob curled on a nearby cushion.  "Time to go hone some weapons, before they are really called upon to fight."

***

Freyd consumes:

Gugnir’s Shard (Untradeable/Unique/Reusable Consumable): Crème Brûlée Tray | ACC 2 | Feast (5/6) - takes 1 portion and shares the rest with the group
Armageddon Juice (Potion) | Damage 3 | 197239
Madlad Muffin | Tierless Rare Meal | EVA 2 | 220090a (+filled)
Stalwart's Stew | T4 Perfect Meal | MIT 3 | 216152
Shrimp Gumbo | Tierless Perfect Meal | Overhealth 3 | 216723
kintsugi. | TIER 4 PERFECT SALVE | TOXIC VENOM | (5/20) https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/19383-f01r10-alchemist-cintamani-open/?do=findComment&comment=676877

Freyd | HP: 1334/1334 | EN: 154/154 | DMG: 24 | MIT: 105 | EVA: 7 | ACC: 5 | BH: 73 | LD: 6 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | TXV 32 | REC: 8 | V.D.: 146

Moving like an ethereal wraith between the triad of barking, snapping maws, Freyd faded from view again and again only to reappear and resume his assaults mere moments later.  Inferno's rage had lost interest in the other two players, which had been precisely the point.  The only catch was that all three heads were now clearly and furiously focused on him instead.  "Frikkin life of a tank," he muttered to himself. "And here I am dancing with death in an outfit that could be mistaken as pajamas."

Seeing Morningstar resume his fighting stance and clip the first head in just the right manner brought a smile to the void beneath his cowl.  "Nice work, Z!  As always."  he'd never admit it, but some part of him had worried she might press her berserk attack and put their companion at further risk.  Fortunately, her healer's instincts seemed to have won out.

Snaring the wolf by its chinny-chin-chin, a tug reinforced by an overhead punch forced the third head to eat dirt and plunged its health into the critical range.

"One more," he hollered hoarse.  "Another basic attack on the first should do the trick. But nothing more!"

Tumbling away to a safe distance, he moved away to draw Cerberus' attention away and expose its flanks for the final puzzle piece to be locked into place.  

"That's right. barbeque-breath.  Come and get me..."

***

Streaking past his allies like dusk chasing a setting sun, Freyd explodes through the centre of the remaining mob scattering it to the corners of four completely absent winds.  Only then did his companions notice what he hardly seemed to have.  The Whisper's goal had never been the lone remnant from their current fray, but a locked bead on yet another pair beyond already surging forth from tainted soil to challenge them.  Eerily, neither horse nor rider made the slightest sound as they rained methodical chaos down upon the field, large swaths of amorphous, monstrous wrongness being smeared every which way as the man's slender blade swung to devour or spray whole sections of their prey about the ground.  One might wonder whether the lot of them had become shellshocked, save that their own voices cut through his wake's emptiness like clarion calls.  It all felt unnatural, which was saying something given their circumstances plus the amply twisted environs.  

Freyd might have been cackling madly as he surged, but who could tell or know for certain - if even himself.

***

Loot Blightbound Monstrosity 3: ID #222034 | LD: 16+7=23 | CD: 2
14000 col (HP[2000]*7 - incl. +4 CD/LD even)
T4 Perfect Trinket 222034a
T4 Perfect Weapon 222034b

"Well... that certainly explains the nickname."  Watching Zandra charge recklessly into battle in complete contradiction to their plan should probably should have surprised him more, but they'd actually fought side by side before.  Freyd was also preoccupied dodging his appointed head while flailing about in full Matrix bullet-time mode.  Cries of alarm nearly broke the concentration required to maintain such a state, along with a preconditioned alarm from his party status tracker  Star's slumped and injured form rolled to the ground next to him, instantly raised both hackles and concern.  Not good.

Even the slightest hint of amber in a player's health bar was never taken lightly, especially in a fight requiring such precision and against a potentially lethal foe.  Sidestepping into a lunge, Freyd slammed into the offending mutt with a full body tackle, wrapping his arm around its massive throat and wrenching its neck awkwardly around as he tumbled over top to place himself closer to Zandra. 

"I'll keep the first two focused on me," he called to the berserker, a commanding tone replacing his less reverent default.  Tank mode had taken over by necessity.

"Heal Star or tag that other head - your call."  Locking his fierce blue gaze with hers, eyes burning with intensity beneath that charcoal cowl, Freyd wasn't kidding around.  "No games this time, Z.  He needs us."  The Whisper's tone brokered no tolerance for shenanigans. He'd tackle all three heads on his own if he had to, but no one was getting vaporized on his watch while he could prevent it.

Belching flame and furious snarls matched the snapping of giant canine jaws to find only absent shadows in the wake of the Whispers' movements.  The man seemed to be in several places at once, shimmering between shades that mingles across the battlefield to distract and confuse.  Cerberus raged and frenzied, but found no greater purchase.  If anything, its efforts seemed less effective than ever, even managing to bite its own paw and howling with further growing frustration.

"GO!  I've got this," He barked sternly.

I'd better have this, for Star's sake.

All the while, he watched the reading across the three enemy health bars, never quite taking his eyes off his friend's prize.

***

Listening attentively, the natural tension in Freyd's shoulders seemed to ease slightly.  So it is the same for most of us.

"You'd be amazed to discover how many people feel the same way when in your situation.  I know I did, back in the day, and it really doesn't feel like it was that long ago."  The bobber on his reel swirled momentarily, caught in a minor eddy forming in the brook's meandering motions and gone just a quickly.  Epiphany could be just as quick and subtle. "Don't feel like you need to rush.  The joy is in the journey.  It's cliché, I know, but with good reason.  I felt the same sense of urgency - the need to rush and help the front lines."

Fishing something out of his inventory, instead, he tossed it to Xlear. 

"Here.  Take this and use it.  It might help your odds a bit.  Can't have you wasting away picking up rocks while the universe pressures you to peak performance."  One wry grin later, Freyd returned to his task, feeling unexpectedly good about the transaction.  Charity wasn't really his style - or was it?  How many times had he done similar things to help others without realizing the motivation.  It had always been about achieving victory, but maybe it was also more than that?  Maybe it was just a decent thing to do.

***

Post Action: Freyd gives Xlearsight:

Sweet and Sour Licorice Bites | Tierless Perfect Snack | Loot Die 3 | 215014 | Tiny morsels of strawberry cream flavoured licorice

"They're a weird bunch, that's for sure, but good people and it works."  Poking his head through a beaded curtain marking the entrance to one of the few luxurious buildings to actually exist in Fortaleza, Freyd yelled something at an NPC inside.  Both players instantly received a quest completion pop-up message, certifying that Abdullah's task had been done.  "Give me a call anytime, Kyoto.  You seem like a good guy, and I'm always happy to help.  If I hear anything about Itzal or the others I'll be sure to let you know, but your best bet may be to retrace their steps and see if you can pick up where they left off."

Nodding respectfully, Freyd politely withdrew and started walking towards the portal arch in the centra plaza, it's pristine polish shining with a piercing glare as it reflected the afternoon sun.  

"Oh, and go see Ren at The Knight Shift, on floor 21 - Tomoika.  He should be able to set you up with gear, if you need any.  Just tell him to put it on my tab."

***

Thread Closing:

Note: Conditions were not met to unlock Assault Mode extra skill

Kyoto receives:

3,134 EXP (Word Count [4534/10*2*0.7] + Quest [2500])
13,000 col (1 page [400] + Loot [7600 from Freyd] + Quest [5000])
1x Terra Firma Scale 221735a (T3 - Unique Consumable - Gain additional Mitigation equal to one T3 slot of the Mitigation Enhancement. This can exceed Mitigation Enhancement caps. The effect lasts one thread.)

Freyd receives:

5,073 EXP (Word Count [4534/10*16*0.7] + Quest [n/a])
761 col (1 page [0] + Loot [Given to Kyoto] + Quest [n/a] + 15% P5 Reward [761])
2 Materials (Loot [2])
1x Terra Firma Scale 221735b (T3 - Unique Consumable - Gain additional Mitigation equal to one T3 slot of the Mitigation Enhancement. This can exceed Mitigation Enhancement caps. The effect lasts one thread.)T4 Rare Armor/Shield 220670

Grabbing Calas' hand on the backswing, he wrenched and twisted her wrist causing the criminal captain to cry out in pain.  A blade fallen from her grasp met his foot and was launched into a nearby sentry, splitting him through the middle and spilling his motes all over the stained and worn deck boards.  She tried to spin and met his knee with her gut, fresh of the spin of its projectile launch.  Delicately coifed hair splayed forth, with a fair share of spittle.  Freyd was in a frenzy.

Her lone remaining aide came to the rescue, or tried, but found his spear deflected by a palm and repurposed to a dirtier business.

"Uuurk..."  Ignoble last words.  

"Playing with fire, captain.  You just got burned."  

"No!"  The guardsman's screamed, steeped in anguish and surprise, did nothing to prevent his leader from literally falling to pieces.  Tugging forward on the spear now sitting in vacated space was all it took to throw its holder off balance and send him reeling over the edge. 

"Someone below was about to get a very nasty surprise."

More pirates surged to fill the void crafted by the Whisper's handiwork, skewering his fellow captain and drawing a look of concern.  "Kat!  Stay with me!  And Ryland, if you say one goddamn word, I swear by Kayaba's infernal fluffy slippers that I WILL END YOU."  

Whether confused by the reference, or just getting the gist, the dockmaster's jaw snapped shut.  He simply gulped and nodded, racing along towards a widening horizon of empty, open sky.

"Use a healing potion if you've got one, Kat.  I'll tag you with another crystal in a minute.  And maybe skip the fighting while you're at it, at least until you heal.  I can take a few stabs if I have to." Hatchets flew by along with a javelin or two, several dozen cutlasses brandishing themselves at their heels as they ran like mad towards the skiff that they hoped was still there.

This is getting completely out of control...

***

Freyd's Turn:

Loot:

Mobs' Turn:

"Anytime, Zee.  You were trouncing badass mobs while I was still wearing my starter diapers.  It would be my pleasure to assist."

Cerberus sought to use their discussion to its advantage, clearly not having watched enough anime to appreciate how much dialogue during combat was accepted social norm.  Some even argued that it made them fight better.  

"Ah, okay then," he replied, silently scolding himself for his assumptions about spare weapons. "No worries.  We'll manage just fine, so long as we're clever and careful.  Morningstar's got the geist."  Following their other companion's lead, he gauged the remaining life on each health bar and adjusted his tactics accordingly, clipping his assigned head, but not quite by enough.

"Dangit!  Looks like I'll be making basic attacks on mine to get it where it needs to be.  Didn't want to chance overshooting the goal. A badly timed crit or DoT proc could ruin our efforts.  Better to lowball you attacks."

***

"Itzal I recall only vaguely.  We were in the raid against Shadow the Malevolent together, clearing the way to floor 26.  Beatbox... I've heard the name, but always got him confused with Beat, who hung around with Shield.  Can't say that we ever met.  Same with Kaiser."  Scratching at the back of his cowl as if to pry something loose from his memory, Freyd couldn't manage to find anything more.  "Nothing's coming back about Itzal's guild.  I just vaguely recall that we had the same look - like we went to the same tailor or something."  He shrugged, not being able to find anything more.  "I can give them a ping via Tracking, if you'd like.  Itzal was the spoopy type and might not show up, but the others could.  It's your call."  Freezing mid-step, Freyd felt like his brain had possibly missed a step. 

"All of that said, it might just be easier to message them directly, especially if they were once your guildmates."

Resuming pace as they entered the derelict town's either gates, the Whisper seemed to muse for a moment.

"I've been out in the field a lot lately, so haven't been checking in much, but there are often several members around.  We're primarily a crafting guild, so there are always a few working at some project or other, or trying to blow the place up with some secret pancake syrup that somehow required black powder."  Rolling his eyes, he still couldn't believe someone had actually fallen for that.

"Uh-huh," Freyd replied, deadpan and staring directly at Nari, clearly not believing a word of her denial, no matter how hard she seemed to be trying to convince herself.  The point had been called out.  What she chose to do with it was up to her, but, based on what dots he'd managed to connect from past observations, there was clearly more history at play than was being admitted.  Pushing any further would only insult Nari, and that wasn't his goal or desirable in any way.  She needs to face this in her own time.

"Yeah.  Alright.  You called my bluff.  Here I was going to manipulate this whole thing to pick up Wulfrin's share, but you all decided to be generous, fair and decent human beings.  How dare you."  Eyeing the last remaining mob, the Whisper's left brow twitched along with the wry curling of his lips.  "Guess that leaves me with only one option."

Snapping his fingers, each of the other players shadows immediately swarmed their owners, wrapping themselves like cold, smothering blankets around their heads and faces with the sheer gripping power of terrified cats.  Something popped in their midst, showering them all with a wave of glistening fractals that none of them could see.  Sight restored an instant later, Freyd was nonchalantly picking something out of his teeth, with his other hand stuffed into an undisclosed pocket.  The dregs of the last looter were still drifting down amongst them.

"Oh, gee... now I guess we'll just never know?  Shame.  Guess that I means I'll have to buy for everyone."  Grinning like a certified madman, he slapped Wulfrin on the back adding strangely appropriate last words.

"Come on pal.  It's not every day you get your dungeon cherry popped when the mobs came that close to popping you instead.  Lessons learned, eh?"

***

Loot Spectral Looter 6: ID #221427 | LD: 1+10+2=13 | CD: 7
+4 materials (+4 CD/LD odd)
7200 col (HP[1200]*6 - incl. +3 Prosperity)
T4 Rare Weapon 221427a
T4 Uncommon Consumable 221427b

Loot Summary:

Thread Closing:

Wulfrin receives:

2,646 EXP (Word Count [12868/10*2*0.5] + Quest [1000] + Dungeon [360])
158,200 col (2 page [800] + Loot [75900 from Freyd] + Quest [2000] + Dungeon [79500])
16 Materials (Dungeon [16])
Kumatetsu Key
T4  Perfect Weapons 221320a
T4  Perfect Weapons 221320b
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 221320c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 221320d

Nari receives:

11,634 EXP (Word Count [12868/10*10*0.5] + Quest [1000] + Dungeon [4200])
87,845 col (2 page [0] + Loot [4600] + Quest [2000] + Dungeon [79500] + 15% P5 Reward [1745])
24 Materials (Loot [8] + Dungeon [16])
Kumatetsu Key
1 Gleaming Scale
T4 Rare Armor/Shield 219838
Random Dungeon Map 219906
T4 Rare Trinket 220347

Morningstar receives:

4,567 EXP (Word Count [12868/10*5*0.5] + Quest [n/a] + Dungeon [1350])
104,185 col (2 page [0] +  Loot [24000] + Quest [n/a] + Dungeon [79500] + 15% P5 Reward [685])
26 Materials (Loot [10] + Dungeon [16])
T4 Uncommon Consumable 220708
T4 Uncommon Consumable 221339a
T4 Perfect Consumable 221338a
T4 Perfect Consumable 221338b
T4 Rare Armor/Shield 221158
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 221338c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 221338d
T4 Rare Weapon 221339a

Freyd receives:

21883 EXP (Word Count [12868/10*16*0.5] + Quest [n/a] + Dungeon [9600] + 10% for Mega Slime Farm)
82,782 col (2 page [0] + Loot [Given to Wulfrin] + Quest [n/a] + Dungeon [79500] + 15% P5 Reward [3282])
38 Materials (Loot [22] + Dungeon [16])
T4 Rare Trinket 219915
T4 Rare Armor/Shield 219916
T4 Rare Trinket 219917
T4 Perfect Consumable 219994a
T4 Perfect Consumable 219994b
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 219994c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 219994d
T4 Rare Consumable 220527a
T4 Rare Armor/Shield 220527b
T4 Perfect Consumable 220708a
T4 Perfect Consumable 220708b
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 220708c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 220708d
T4 Rare Trinket 220709
T4 Perfect Weapon 220710a
T4 Perfect Weapon 220710b
T4 Perfect Weapon 220710c
T4 Rare Weapon 221427a
T4 Uncommon Consumable 221427b

"Guild?"  That one piqued his curiosity especially.  There had been so many since the game first loaded, but he knew little about most of them.  "Which one were you in?  Maybe I recognize it, or could point you towards some of its old members.  Tracking has its uses, after all."  They were already within sights of the walls of Fortaleza, feeble as they might be.  Parched and sun-bleached, the packed earthen ramparts were literally baked to the point of crumbling and resembled little more than berms after so much deterioration.

"My own guild has also gone largely dormant lately."  It was a difficult admission, mostly to his own ears, but Firm Anima's members had scattered each to deal with their own long overdue affairs.  Should something threaten the whole, they would surely resurface.  "I guess they're all a little like the moon: sometimes full and sometimes nearly vanished, but ready to rebuild."

Freyd had listened intently as Zandra referenced olden times, some pre-dating his own rise and involvement in the mainstream of Aincrad's daily affairs.  Realization dawned that he was now the one referencing names that newcomers no longer recognized and tales they had never heard.  Congratulations, Freyd, you've become a veteran and joined the ranks of the 'old men' to which you once aspired. It didn't feel like the accomplishment he imagined it to be, but then it likely never could have.  Here, on the other side of the fence, grass was still just grass.  Its colour never changed.  Zandra and Morningstar deftly dealt with the remaining hounds.  It would take long for their master to follow in the wake of his fallen kin.

"I'm..." he paused, pondering how best to declare his role.  "What is today?  Tuesday?  I think I'm a tank on Tuesdays.  Mostly DPS on other days ending in 'Y', but don't ever ask me to heal something.  I just throw crystals at people until they quit whining and get back on their feet."  It was mostly jest, but the best jokes always have some basis in truth.  Freyd wasn't a particularly effective tank, just a passable one when bad guys needed something agile and annoying between them and the rest of the group.  Not at all like the greats of yesterday.  "And, you're not wrong, Zandra.  The meta has changed.  We need to change with it.  Let me know if I can help with that in any way, for the sake of an old friend."  Thunderous footsteps paired with triple-echoed baying soon broke up their conversation, putting them all back on alter.

"You've definitely got the legs for it," Freyd added, replying to Star's boast.  "Just don't ever underestimate what you can achieve with clever application of the Disguise skill."  Giving his blonde companion a quick wink, Freyd dove into a nearby plume of sulfurous fumes and vanished from sight.  

No sooner had the Whisper vanished to his shadows than a giant pair of charcoal-coloured paws broke through the wall of smoke obscuring the far side of the narrow gorge in which they'd found themselves.  Cerberus - the bigger, meaner incarnation of the tri-headed doggo - quickly followed, with all three maws dripping liquid fire, growling synchronously as they approached.

"I call heads!"

The call came from it flank, causing all three sets of Cerberus' eyes to shift and turn, one of them getting a knee under its chin for its trouble.  

"Gotta watch our damage output on this one, or we'll blow the secret code.  Try to knock it down to just under a quarter of its health bar and watch our for those fallen procs, Zandra.  You might want to swap to another weapon if you have one."

***

A sullen, empty smile lined Freyd's face with weariness as he heard Kyoto repeat an all-too-familiar story.  

"I've heard a similar story from more players than I could have ever imagined," he added with regret.  "We so many people miserable in our other world?  Is that why people were so eager to enter this one, only to fall into Kayaba's trap?"  Sighing at the lines of thinking that inevitably followed.  "Whatever you do, Kyot0, don't let it get you down, okay?  That's more important than you can possibly imagine - the need to feel like you have purpose and belonging.  We're all going to need that same sense if we're going to work together to climb out of this pit.  And, maybe, we need to bring a little of that spirit back with us to liven up the place we're trying to get back to?"

What had been done to the players stuck in this murder game was monstrous, but perhaps his companion had clued into an overlooked silver lining. 

"Hardship can bring out the very worst in people, but also the very best.  Given the options, wouldn't the latter be a better choice?"

Banter and pleasantries were freely exchanged as the trio made their way from the bar to the fiery pits of hell that served as Cerberus' personal kennel.  Pools of molten flame provided the pulsing, red ambience where light was otherwise snuffed by the plumes of thick smoke rising from all points to blot out the sun and keep its cheerful rays firmly off the unhallowed ground.  Morningstar and Zandra swapped tales with each other most of the way along while he did his scouting thing, chiming in on occasion to confirm that he was indeed listening.

"...but who really knows why he wore the dress?  Dude certainly enjoyed provoking reactions, and that alone might have done it. At least he had the legs to pull it off, y'know?"  Shadows moved wrongly in their periphery, signaling the presence of prowlers.

"Ah.  The welcoming committee has found us."  Only then did Freyd recall the flames licking the blade of Zandra's scythe.  "Huh... let me know how that works for you down here.  I can't say that I've ever actually tested whether these things are actually fireproof.  Cuz, when you think about it."  He gestured to the entirety of their surroundings.  

By the time the others looked back his way, the spoopy nutjob was already smashing his fist into the face of the nearest hell hound, splashing with a crackling of frost that instantly began to boil and hiss upon application.  Two more emerged from the soot-stained air to received similarly loving treatment, less the polar dip, yet still joyfully delivered enough to send their health bars spiralling.

"Softened'em up," Freyd called back.  "Why not show us how not-dead you are, Zandra?"

***

"Settled?"  Something in Nari's tone didn't sound right, which should have been especially off for a performer.  "Wait a sec... this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain black-haired swordwoman we both know who chucks debuff crystals around like they are going out of style?"  He knew that his armored companion would know who he meant. Enough dots had been dropped to connect a potential pattern, the first few links of which had formed during their chat near Ellesmora.  Would she have taken on an entire profession in order to please a friend?  Freyd knew the answer before the thought had even fully formed.

"You might want to steer clear of the Forest of Memories," he added towards Wulfrin, preferring to steer the conversation in a new direction.  "That place has... issues."  Quickly noting the warrior's haggard appearance as his energy reserved waned.  "These should be about the last of them."  One more joined the battle out of the darkness, just to make a liar out of him. 

"Dangit.  I think I see daylight up the tunnel to the right.  If we make our way there, we should be able to get clear and go grab drinks somewhere to put this all behind us."

Hoping to help Nari get beyond her apparent guilt and pre-occupation, something other than combat would clearly be required.  

"I know a good steakhouse in Urbus.  Last hit picks up the tab?"

***

Loot Spectral Looter 8, ID #221319 | LD: 17+10=27 | CD: 2
+2 materials (+2 LD odd)
9600 col (HP[1200]*8 - incl. +2 CD even, +3 Prosperity)
T4 Perfect Consumable 221319a
T4 Perfect Consumable 221319b
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 221319c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 221319d

Loot Summary:

Not quite ready to let Abdullah realize he still lived, but also unwilling to spoil Ciela's maximum moxy moment, Freyd chose to play coy and follow along with a minor unanticipated twist.  By the time the beaded curtain plied its way over them, the Whisper's appearance had been completely transformed.  No longer the spoopy, brooding figure most commonly familiar among the residents of Fortaleza, Ciela now dragged behind her an elegant courtesan in a loosely fitted black kimono.  Sporting barely coifed indigo hair and hauntingly pale blue eyes over the most demure of smiles, it was an appearance he reserved for the most provocative occasions. 

Turning its allure against the foppish mobster the moment he soured at Ciela's silent rebuttal, Lady Freyd was already making eyes to distract and entice.  No words were spoken, only a gaze held and the very briefest of exhales granted through an achingly slow parting of pale, slender lips.  Wulfrin might have heard Abdullah's jaw shatter when it hit the floor, a lingering glance hinting empty promises as Ciela dragged his latest obsession from the room.  The novice player's head and heart were likely still pre-occupied by overwhelming anxiety.  Strands of twilight swung like a curtain to conceal her features once more, perfectly timed to tease out a fading wink that vanished with another clattering of beads.

Restored to his original appearance, Freyd acted as though nothing strange had happened, nodding sympathetically at Ciela's exasperations.  Sparing Wulfrin a bemused look that silently spoke to what had just transpired, Freyd kept the motives behind this particular game to himself.

"Yes, well done, Ciela," he applauded, reclaiming his hand and stuffing both of his back into a pair of invisible pockets. "Let me know if you two feel like hitting up another quest anytime soon. You've both shown a lot of promise today, and should be proud."  Someone sounded a gong nearby, signaling the cresting of the sun and marking midday for all of the sandy town's residents.  By the time they both looked back, Freyd has simply disappeared.

***

Thread Closing:

Wulfrin receives:

880 EXP (Word Count [6501/10*2*0.6] + Quest [n/a] + Field Bosses [100])
7,800 col (1 page [200] + Loot [7600 from Freyd])
1x Terra Firma Scale (T3 - Unique Consumable - Gain additional Mitigation equal to one T3 slot of the Mitigation Enhancement. This can exceed Mitigation Enhancement caps. The effect lasts one thread.)

Knightessciela receives:

2,990 EXP (Word Count [6501/10*1*0.6] + Quest [2500] + Field Bosses [100])
5,200 col (1 page [200] + Quest [5000])
1x Terra Firma Scale (T3 - Unique Consumable - Gain additional Mitigation equal to one T3 slot of the Mitigation Enhancement. This can exceed Mitigation Enhancement caps. The effect lasts one thread.)

Freyd receives:

6m340 EXP (Word Count [6501/10*16*0.6] + Quest [n/a] + Field Bosses [100])
936 col (1 page [0] + Loot [7600 given to Wulfrin] + 15% P5 Reward [936])
2 Materials (Loot [2])
1x Terra Firma Scale (T3 - Unique Consumable - Gain additional Mitigation equal to one T3 slot of the Mitigation Enhancement. This can exceed Mitigation Enhancement caps. The effect lasts one thread.)
T4 Rare Trinket 220964

Note: Assault Mode extra skill was not unlocked.

"Not sure that I'd call it manners when people queue to kill you just because there isn't enough space for them to all try at the same time!"  Bending backwards to a seemingly impossible angle, Freyd dodged a few deft and ambitious strikes while they scrambled to get away from the gaggle of goons that was already closing in.

"Calas, you harlot, selling your soul for a bit of col.  Why not just butter yourself up and bend over for a fat, hairy fu--- URK"

Yanking on the dockmaster's collar to keep him from getting skewered, Freyd tossed him down the dock in the hopes of fending off the closing enemy.  Unfortunately, Ryland's words had earned the guards' ire, not appreciating the suggestion and intending to demonstrate their displeasure using the pointy ends of their blades.

"BRING IT, DOILIES!  Maybe her lady-ship will let you suckle her teat more once you've done her bidding.  Be mindful not to choke on your collars, dogs!"

"Shut it, Ryland.  You're not helping matters in the slightest.  Now RUN!"  A few quick parries and strikes of his own downed one of the guards, but it was all Freyd could manage not to get tramples and knocked over the edge as the swarm of angry mobs bore down on their loudmouth antagonist.  "You're going to get us all killed, you rabid wombat and keep moving!"

"Uh... Kat... can I explain later?!  Maybe after we get away from the murder wave bearing down on us?"

***

Loot Corrupt Dock Guard 2: ID #221328 | LD: 9+10=19 | CD: 5
+4 materials (+4 CD/LD odd)
1800 col (HP[600]*3)
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 221328a
T4 Perfect Trinket 221328b

Racing towards the beast from its left flank, Freyd planted one foot hard into the slippery sand.  Creating a fulcrum, he pivoted up and over the beast's head launched by his own momentum.  Sparing only a moment to snare it by the jowls of its giant toothy maw, he used his own momentum to yank as hard as he possibly could.  The point was to flip and fling the thing over his head and let it smear itself all over the sands.  But, fate being what it is, his handwraps screeched as their bindings loosened enough to let loose the void contained within.  Instead of snaring the creature, Freyd's hands peeled open its hood like it was a potato, wrenching all of the 'skin' from atop its head and melting what should have been its brain by the passage of his fingertips.  Landing with still-catlike grace on the far side of it, Freyd's cowl kinked in a hound-like manner as he wondered what had happened. The rest of the mob's body seized, jerked, twitched, then slumped into the sand and disintegrated into a pile of find glass dust that melted seamlessly into the landscape in an instant.

"Huh," he added, surprised by the turn of events.  "Not really what I was going for, but I suppose it worked all the same?"  A stunned look still on his face, the Whisper just smirked, shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his lethal fingers back into cosy hoodie pockets.  "So, um... right then.  I guess this means we're done?  Who votes we send Ciela in to talk to Abdullah?"  Freyd and all three of their shadows instantly raised their hands.

"The aye's have it," he declared swiftly turning, a giant grin on his face, ready to lead them back to town.

***