Freyd

By the time Ty reached the crumbling fortress gate there were signs of another quad of fallen mobs, their fractal essences drifting off in the breeze.  Freyd, his face focused and alert for more incoming guards, slid Veritas' black blade against the sheen on his matching armor, as if cleaning it in some ceremonial manner.  Scanning the remains of their camp site revealed little.  Hot steaming cups of something acrid now sat unattended.  Some unlucky game bird slowly burnt over the open spit with no one left to turn it.  Sparing a quick glance towards his companion to assure himself she wasn't injured, Freyd's eyes were otherwise scouring the remaining ruins for signs of... prey?

"They've tucked Cassim away somewhere in the rest of the ruins."  The tip of his katana pointed to drag marks on the ground, about the size one might expect for a body equivalent to Ali's size.  Cassim likely had about the same build.

"Wait a minute..."

There were more trails by the first one.

"They have more than one prisoner here."

Freyd seemed genuinely surprised and concerned by the discovery, brow furrowed and eyes more alert than ever - the same look from when they had recovered Koko in the cave.  As much as he might resemble an edgelordy murder-hobo, the man's colder side was clearly linked to his survival instincts, and were likely part of whatever had managed to get him through to this extent in the game.

"Alright...but we should talk after."

Something in her tone made him pause and turn with concern.

***

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫

Watching her unfurl from his grasp, Freyd was unaccustomed to such certainty entrenched behind her warm, watering, empathic eyes.  A rose in bloom, shedding away the detritus of past wrongs to stand proudly for herself - for who she wanted to be. Elora was magnificent.  Gently trapping him between her fingertips in a way that he could never voluntarily escape, his heart melted as surely as it wanted to break.

"It's ok...", she softly stated. 

No... anything but that...and yet...

Not what he expected to hear.  Not from her, given her history and staunchly set ways.  Where was the self-castigation, the avoidance or withdrawal?. Where were Elora's tells, as reliably predictable as the sun's setting to hide away from pain?  Nowhere to be found, apparently, which only made his sense of betrayal worse.  Though tears to match her own welled in the corners of his eyes, these were tears of joy, for all she had accomplished to reach this point.

"You're just amazing.  Did you know that?"  Callused tips belonging to long, spider-like fingers swept water from the corners of her eyes, tracing fleeing rivulets down along the framing the edges of her face.  Thumbs pressed softly to her chin, he guided her liquid passions there, to him. 

With gleaming confidence and sympathy, she led him to the edge of the memorial pools, her figure swaying like an angel among wisteria's dancing to her passage and the breeze.  Beads of mist played and gather across salvation's features, casting themselves upon her stunning grace - which he had nearly, foolishly discarded.

"Let it all out", she gently consoled.

Swallowing hard, the steely backbone of resolve that had carried him relentlessly forward was still there, keeping him from crumbling completely.  This wasn't about choices.  He'd made his and come to terms with its personal consequences long ago, or so he thought.

"No tank takes on the role without accepting its potential outcome." Reiterating his own words, they still resonated with truth.  His convictions had held.  But, they always did, didn't they?  They were never the issue.  It was the sudden consideration of cost and consequences that were new, and both options had been god-awfully bad. Moral dilemma was still a shiny new concept, and this one was a doozy for a newbie.

"Callisto - the boss - was going to kill him.  It had Wulfrin dead to rights - the template ready to mount his name on the monument, and everything.  I couldn't let it happen.  I didn't think..."

Guilt forced his eyes closed again, shame eating away the edges of his soul for what he'd done, or nearly done, or both.  Probably both.

"Somehow, I placed myself between them.  It shouldn't have been possible, but I did, then felt the…”

Pulling back the edge of his storm cloud haori, snaring the blue grey waves of kimono beneath, the pale flesh beneath still shone with spectral scars of the massive clawed hands that had done the deed. Skin unmarred, he felt the wounds nonetheless, like they would be there forever.  He'd paid for that moment with age, and the corresponding loss of innocence now reflected in his changed appearance.  Freyd felt older, more worn.  Weathered.

“All I saw was a flash.  There was a hum, like the dying ambient charge of a monitor being turned off, the last potential energy ebbing from its circuits and fading.  That should have been it.”

Silence.

“Then, a breath.  Sight marred by blinding chaos and a shift in perspective.  Senses assaulted from all sides with confusion.  I was twenty feet from where Wulfrin had slumped to his knees, still seeing the shards of… me… fading into nothingness.  The rest.. well, we won.  How doesn’t really matter, save that it confused the hell out of a lot of people.”

Gazing at his reflection in the pool, Freyd’s eyes closed, his shoulders at odds with themselves trying to decide whether to stand proud or utterly collapse.

“I don’t regret trying to save a man’s life," he confided, as much to himself as to Elora.  "But, I also don’t know how to deal with having to choose between consigning you or Ciela to dealing with the death of a loved one.”

Tell her…

“And, I’m ashamed that I chose to save a friend instead of choosing to come back to the woman who means more to me than the world itself.”

"Nicely done." The praise intended for Wulfrin, as Freyd had already sheathed his weapon to help Foyle clear the landscape off his clothes.  

"You've made the rounds, I see.  Good to see.  I'd say you're ready for what comes next.  These will be lightweight by comparison, but still worthwhile as practice fodder."  A chuckle spared for the older man's predicament, who merely brushed him off and accepted his fate.  Foyle rarely complained about anything, no matter how filthy he had to get.

"You figure out how to make more of that and I'll buy you a new, shinier pair of goggles."  If anyone could manage it, Raidou would be his first guess, with Jeeves a close second.  The boy had the same clinical twinkle in his eye every time they collected some random sample of something.

"Ravana might have been meant for a lesser group, or smaller numbers. We still did well to deny him any openings.  Boss' won't grant us any quarter, when the dice fall against our favour."

***

Thread Closing:

Simmone receives 1 bonus guild token (3 members of Firm Anima)

Freyd receives:

4,705 EXP (Word Count [3857/10*18*0.5] + Quest [1000] + Field Bosses [240])
23,505 col (1 page [100] + Loot [7700] + Quest [15000] + 15% P5 Reward [705])
2 Materials ( Loot [2])
1 Guild Token (Firm Anima)
1 Mon
1 Gleaming Scale 
T4 Perfect Consumable 239517a
T4 Perfect Consumable 239517b
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 239517c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 239517d
3x Hellstorm 239520a, 239520b, 239520c

Wulfrin receives:

2,395 EXP (Word Count [3857/10*6*0.5] + Quest [1000] + Field Bosses [240])
15,459 col (1 page [100] + Quest [15000] + 15% P5 Reward [359])
1 Mon
1 Demonic Shard
1x Hellstorm 239520d

Foyle receives:

2,010 EXP (Word Count [3857/10*4*0.5] + Quest [1000] + Field Bosses [240])
15,100 col (1 page [100] + Quest [15000])
1 Guild Token (Firm Anima)
1 Mon
1 Demonic Shard

Jeeves receives:

1,817 EXP (Word Count [3857/10*3*0.5] + Quest [1000] + Field Bosses [240])
15,100 col (1 page [100] + Quest [15000])
1 Guild Token (Firm Anima)
1 Mon
1 Demonic Shard

Leaping down onto the drum sands, landing to create a deliberate thud to attract the beast's attention, Freyd wanted to make himself its target.  Without hesitation, the sub-sandy lump veered violently his way, streaking like a torpedo as if he was an entire convoy worth of juicy targets all bundled into one.  Slamming his fist into the ground several more times, just to piss it off to maximum potential, Freyd stood and claimed his stance, ready to face down the monster.

Sliding one leg back to brace against the incoming charge, Freyd kept his katana in a low guard and waited until the giant maw broke the surface.  Row upon row of serrated teeth, arrayed like seats full of critics at some theatrical premiere, opened wide as it eagerly sought to devour him for his insolence.  How dare he set foot in its domain?  A subtle sidestep and flash of steel, and the beast missed its mark, gaining a broad, long slash along its flanks for its trouble.

"You can come into the out now," he called over his shoulder to the others.  "Just make sure you keep out of its way.  It won't hesitate to eat you as an appetizer on its way back round to try and eat me."

***

Emerging from the portal like a thousand past shadows porting through the void, a familiar stranger reformed mere moments after his departure.  Brows furrowed farther than their usual range.  Barely a thing had changed, yet...

"I left here hours ago.  Why are they still all standing or wandering about the starting area?"  Summoning his interface was no help.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  The clock read wrong.  Not off, but utterly wrong, in the nonsensical sense.  Irreconcilable digits, unreadable glyphs, non-sequential series jumping randomly or even backwards.  "Is this floor out of phase with the rest of the castle?"

Thunder boomed overhead, denial firm and followed in reverse by flashing lightning that should have preceded, yet chose not to or was forbidden by erroneous code.  Distant clashing of swords, not too far away, had his hand reach for his blade to find it already grasped and drawn. He'd appeared with it, ready for the worst.  No safe zone meant easy prey for the unsuspecting if PKers took hold of their beachhead. 

"Hirru seems to have the right idea."  The Vice-Commander already setting up an outpost of some kind.  Or a future field hospital.  Other players wandered warily about in groups.  Probably wise, yet here he was standing alone in the blighted square.  "Who's your friend," he called out, pointed to the purple-clad NPC.  "I appreciate his fashion sense." A nod to anyone with cowling sensibilities. "I assume he isn't local?"  That alone was already surprising.  It wasn't common to see mobs migrate between floors.  Even mentioning the concept seemed taboo in some circles.

Pulling up his own hood against the ever-dreary downpour offered little respite.  Moving closer to the standing torch likewise offered no warmth.  This place seemed to drain any attempt to retain it, likely along with any cheer.

"Make sure you bring cookies - like, real ones.  Good ones.  None of those fakes with raisins posing as chocolate chips.  Honey buns would also work.  I can hook you up with a supplier, if it will help."

"Faaaaaaaaakessssssss..."

Head spun sideways like a high torque power drill on max output, Freyd felt his heart leap like it wanted to change places with his stomach.  Sword spinning at pace, it clanged with a rusty, unlit lamp post at his side, sparking enough to shower and offer a glimpse of something behind glass in a facing shop.  Grasping the hilt with his second hand to steady his pulse and ideally avoid stabbing anyone who accidentally or foolishly spooked him, his head shifted right to glance again.  There was a face inside, blurred by constant drizzle and built up crud upon the pane.  Three careful steps forward brought it into focus through the rain: a white porcelain mask with fine gold filigree glared back, framed by the outline of his  own reflected, trademarked cowl.  Like he was wearing it.  Confused, Freyd drew back a single hand from the hilt, watching it close with the mirrored image, but finding flesh and freshly spawned hair from the raid instead.

What the... how?

Tilting right granted necessary revelation.  The mask was behind the glass, somehow pristine despite the destitute state of their surroundings.

What are the chances that the angles would fall just right for that to happen?  How would such a thing even have survived?

A door slammed shut in response, probably not because of the absent wind. Looking down, he found his shadow leaning towards Hirru's light, as if to poke it for amusement, its umbral outline openly defying convention, let alone his unorthodox control.

"Oh... this place is going to be a problem."

Manifesting at the familiar portal base, Freyd took it upon himself to actually appreciate the grandeur of the place this time, more than he ever had before.  Serene and solemn, its high vaulted ceilings and ambient constant suffusing lights granted it an air of ephemeral formality.  It felt warm, safe, bright - all aspects in contrast to the road taken to reach this point.  A mirth and wistful smile paid homage to previous passages made with vastly different motives.  This felt more like a luxury than a trial to be endured.  

"A horn, please," he called out to the spectral vendors who tended the place and its wares.  "I'm sure that we'll have need of it again, soon enough."  Item received and transaction confirmed, it sat ready for whenever the next day came.  Inevitability.  Certainty.  Necessity.

"Until next time."  A waving gesture donated to no one and nothing in particular.  Maybe a mere wayward jest.  Maybe... something else?

***

2024-12-29

Horn of Battle | ID 239485
Sounding this horn will grant oneself and their party +2 increased energy regen for a single thread.

Freyd turns and glances sideways towards his companion, a old, familiar grin forming slowly beneath his new features. Silently drawing his katana, Freyd stepped sideways into the umbra provided by the rocky outcrop behind which they were hiding.  Vanishing into the darkness, he reappeared an instant later on the far side of the fortress gate, having somehow slipped through the void between two shadows to emerge behind their watchtowers and defenses.  The bandits cried out in surprise - those that didn't die instantly in his opening assault.  Another's fractals were smeared across the sand before he could fully draw his blade.  The last of those visible to Ty from her vantage managed to pull and lunge with his blade, only to have his arms severed at the elbows by a gruesome downward stroke.  The rest of the him shattered two seconds later as Freyd plunged his blade completely through his torso.

"I did mention assassination, didn't I?  This would be that part... kinda." Freyd's hollered voice re-raised the same alarm that died on the bandit's lips in the face of his devastation.  "I don't know about alright, but it looks like all the bits still work properly.  Now, get over here so you can take the next wave!"

***

Falling between floors was old hat to the Whisper, having stumbled through more than his share of glitches, not to mention his everyday sojourns through the void as a convenient means of travel.  Where others struggle to orient themselves, Freyd was already aligning his blade and self to deliver a blow the instant they emerged on the other side.  Wulfrin, true to form, had already stunned the Phoenix, leaving it exposed and vulnerable while the rest of his team fired off their shots as best they could.  When his turn came, Veritas struck true and carved the infernal turkey from crown to tailfeather, spilling its digital guts across the crater he'd just formed through his own landing.

Except, not quite.  The bird exploded, then somehow un-exploded, reforming its deconstructed bits back into a whole - enough to pretend to continue a very one-sided fight.

"Huh.  That's a neat trick. Wouldn't it be nice if players could pull something like that off too?"

Turning to call over his shoulder, he already knew it was unnecessary, as Wulfrin charged back in ready to cleave the bird apart a second time.

***

Freyd's action

Enemy's action:

"Everything's fine...you don't need to worry, please --"

Relief.  Indescribable elation as those words reached his ears and bled away the terror of what Cardinal might have inflicted by sheer force of doubt and uncertainty.  Had Elora's obliviousness somehow insulated her from its tells, or had nothing rippled its way out from the turbulence of the raid?  It doesn't matter.  She didn't have to endure a harrowing.  That's all that matters.  She's safe.  She was spared the agony I thought I'd caused.

"Turn that analytical mind of your's off for just a second -- what happened out there? Are you...", she trailed off before asking, "What happened?"

Water pooling in his eyes, a tide of dread repelled, reflected hers in the same light they'd both experienced at the Eyvinsung.  Lips warbling like those of a child caught in an outpouring of emotions that threatened to overwhelm, it took him several seconds just to dare enough to part his lips.  More, to structure the fragmentary words floating within and struggling to bind.  When one finally emerged, it sounded hoarse and parched, like the effort had drained him of essence or vitality.

"Wulfrin." 

Speaking the name, like some sacred admission, nearly tore his heart to pieces as the memory that drove his choice replayed itself in his mind's eye.  His friend, doe-eyed at the realization of the risk he'd just exposed himself to.  Dawning awareness of manifesting fate, or ill fortune, at the hands of a raid boss - the very picture of lethality in a cruelly unjust world.  A choice laid in his hands. The harshest and most difficult of choices.  Break the heart of his beloved, or his friend's?  Ciela's jubilant laughter rung in memory, the images of his own hand placed over theirs as he bound them to each other.  Him?!  He'd felt an honored fraud and charlatan performing the act, yet wholly blessed by their trust and eagerness.  Merest hours had passed since that moment, fast forwarded to the young groom's life fainting within reach of his fingertips.  

"He's alive.  Spared."  Still struggling to keep composure, the words were more curt and uncertain than she'd ever heard him speak, laden with ominous overtones.  "I... I managed to reach him, just in time.  But, at a cost."

Flinching involuntarily at the recollected flash, the searing pain and sinking of giant rotting claws and decaying teeth into digital flesh.  No algorithm could spare anyone those sensations.  Even if the nerves were dulled entirely, the mind knew and would provide for itself what it should have felt.

"I... think I died..."

Watching the others rally and coordinate their attacks, Freyd did his best to keep focused on the boss, and boss focused on himself.  Hacking and slashing as quickly as he could manage, but to limited effect against Ravana's multi-armed parries.  A well-timed rebuff on the demon's part had likewise prevented him from taking advantage of Foyle's strike, enabling a full block.  Jeeves' was on the ball, though, devastating the mob the moment it became exposed, yet denied from actually felling it.

Mad, cackling laughter came from the demon's throat, its scorched form hovering on death's door, yet denied passage.  It knew.  It knew it couldn't die without some triggering clause or condition they would have to guess at while it toyed with them.  Once again, the awkward little tactician pulled through in his insights, startling them all with a simple yet effective call.

"Freyd.  Festival of lights, right?  Light this fucker up!"

Swapping out Veritas for Samael's Pride for added insurance, the black blade found purchase with a perfectly timed counter.  Flame spread from the cut, consuming Ravana, whose laughter turned to terror at the sight of its own demise.  Its bloated body shattering into a shower of scintillating shards within seconds.

"Good call."

Their success and victory were short-lived as the mob imploded, tearing apart the very fabric of their digital world and collapsing its special carnival instance around them.  They found themselves sprawling on a basalt plinth somewhere on the outskirts of familiar lava fields, with a very angry-looking firebird bathing in the flames, displeased by their unannounced arrival.

***

Freyd's action:

Enemy's action

Loot Ravana: ID #239517 | LD: 20+5+1=Z | CD: 1
+2 materials (+2 CD odd)
7700 col (HP[1400]*5 - incl. +2 LD even, +10% [Col Deposit & Treasury])
T4 Perfect Consumable 239517a
T4 Perfect Consumable 239517b
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 239517c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 239517d

"I might send Foyle along with you, if you don't mind? He's another O&I agent and training as a scout.  The skill would be a great asset for him too."

Listening to her comments on mob bosses as he climbed up a hidden rise to gain them a better vantage on the fortress, its battlements were looking more and more like ruins as they approached.  The main gates had desiccated and turned to dust ages ago and most of the mortar binding the individual blocks forming the walls had followed.  Signs of heat-inflicted decay were everywhere.

"I wouldn't say I'm an expert on real-world mob bosses, but there's a certain truth to it for mob bosses in here, in the digital sense.  If not the 'hottest', certainly the most important. Megalomaniacs and narcissists abound.  Abdullah is overqualified for both.  Ali is the low-end wannabe model, like a Pacer aspiring to be a Porsche?  Sorry.  Not sure if you're a car person of not.  It was just the first comparison that came to mind."

Shrugging the conversation to a close, he turned his attention back to the crude encampment barely visible beyond the crumbling castle walls.  At least a half dozen men and women lurked around it, their equipment branding them as waste scavengers, and a surly bunch to boot.  They definitely looked like the type of muscle Abdullah would employ, especially based on past encounters.

"Alright.  I'm thinking we do this the messy way.  I can rush in and take out the first group, drawing their attention.  That will give you an opening to pick off stragglers.  We can't be certain if there are more on watch or scattered in the surrounding ruins, so we'd best make this quick.  Sound good?"

Freyd just laughed at Morningstar's sudden arrival and Acanthus' startled reactions.  

"I should probably start assuming that you have a sleeping cot in ever bar and gambling den in Aincrad, Star, and that you simply teleport between to them to whichever location is most imminently convenient."  Judging by the size of the grin and delight on Freyd's face, it was meant to be a compliment.

"Maybe we got word you were up to something," he added, turning to Wulfrin, "and thought it best to intervene early before you went all 'Cave of Wonders' on us before the raid."  Patting his shadow on the back, Freyd winked and pondered his words for a moment.

"NPC... no.  I honestly can't recall.  It's been too long and my memory's stretched across too many floors these days.  But I do know a guy who might."  

Excusing himself for a moment, the Whisper wandered to the nearby Knight Shift and spoke with its familiar white-haired proprietor.  The two exchanged brief, friendly words before the smith donated an ample amount of gesturing and Freyd a corresponding measure of nods.

"Yup.  Figured a business connection might exist there.  Ren's been trying to unionize the local merchants and corner the market on ore from the best local providers for months.  If anyone knew where the find the mining foreman, it had to be him.  This way, chums.  It's not far."

Smiling at the near-frantic barrage of questioning, Freyd looked noticeably older than her had, yet also less... something?   Maybe he just stood straighter or with better posture and looked taller?  

"Let me try to take each one of those separately," he offered, chuckling lightly.  "Ali wants us to rescue his brother, Cassim.  But, what he really wants is access to the Cave of Wonders, and the rumoured treasures within.  And he's more than callous and conniving enough to send children in as his agents if he thinks it will get him what he craves."  Shooing the last of the kids away, he led Ty away from the town and into the desert proper.  Somehow, the heat didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.  

"Survival skill," he offered, by way of answer to the unspoken question.  "You can unlock it here in a separate quest.  Comes in really handy in extreme weather and climates, which is likely why it's placed on this floor."  A full canteen was offered to her, as compensation matched with understanding eyes.  "Cassim isn't in the cave.  He's been taken by a rival gang of bandits who basically want him for the same reasons, at least so far as I've ever managed to understand.  They could just be trying to extort Ali, which is a sick joke because he's the cheapest bastard I've ever met in the game, and would sell out his own brother in a heartbeat."  

A random bird of prey called out in the skies above, drawing their attention to several more circling over nearby cliffs.  They clearly knew something, or were hinting towards it.

"Abdullah is the mob boss," he paused to chuckle, "who thinks he's the hottest thing in Fortaleza.  He'd basically a fop and a gangster rolled into one, and a bit of a joke.  I taunt him relentlessly for it, just to see what might come of it.  Sadly, speaking with him is also a mandatory part of picking up the quest for Terra Firma - otherwise known as the Bloodstained Land quest, dubbed the Sharkbait Training Program among players.  I really can't stand even being near him.  Fortunately, we... shit."

Pausing to facepalm, Freyd just realized who it was that likely hired the bandits behind Ali and Cassim's woes.  

"I can't believe I never thought of it sooner."

Groaning, he resumed their trek towards the emerging fortress nestled into a rocky desert cliff face, protected by a deep overhanging rock face that offered protection from view and the sun alike.

"As to the raid.  Let's just say that things very nearly went wrong, and carried some consequences."

"I couldn't have marketed this thing better if I'd tried," Freyd replied, marveling how word of mouth alone seemed to have accomplished what millions in advertising col might never have achieved.  Grabbing his espresso and downing it in a single swig, the man's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at the sudden invigoration.

"So, here's the deal.  We're heading to a dust bowl down the road, where a mutant sand shark named Terra Firma spawns.  It's a quest boss that looks and acts like a field boss, and also the angriest whirling ball of gnashing teeth you can imagine.  Yeah.  It's a bit terrifying, and could kill each of you in a single shot - If you pull aggro.  So, don't. Keep it focused on me."

Guiding them down the dusty red sands that passed as the main trade road out of Fortaleza, Freyd handed out a few food buffs to ensure that they all at least had a decent chance to hit the beast, even if most of them were unlikely to be able to pierce its damnably thick hide.

"Despite all of its fury and embodied terror, Terra Firma has one notable weakness: it can only attack one target at a time.  So long as it stays focused on me, the rest of you can wail away with impunity.  There's even benefit to doing so.  A single critical hit from any of us will trigger its special assault mode and unlock a special skill for all of you when the quest is completed.  So don't be shy to try your hand at getting a strike in - once I give the word."  Making eye contact with each one, he made certain that they all understood the stakes.

Reaching their destination, the group paused on the rocky cliff face outlining a roughly circular bowl that looked suspiciously like an arena from their vantage.  The sands below were silty and fine, shifting like earthen waves at the mercy of the desert's furnace-like winds.  

"There."  Freyd's black gauntlet pointed to a  cresting mottled brown fin as it emerged from a swale, only the dive back under again.  The twenty-foot long lump of monster below it was more than a little disturbing.  "Wait 'til you see its teeth."

***

Freyd uses Tracking on Terra Firma

"Not after..." A flash of anguish flew across the Whisper's face, the grief too fresh to fully contain.  "I'm not exactly sure what, or how, or... well, anything that happened in that moment.  When I re-opened my eyes to resume the fight it was all I could do just to cling to my bearings.  It wasn't until we reached the new floor and rushed to go see Elora that I realized she was gone." Even attempting to speak her name was too hard.  Hearing it spill from the lips of others was only tangibly better.

"Wulfrin, you must have been distracted too, but... did you... happen to see anything?  I was... indisposed."  Though he kept walking, Freyd felt it necessary to go straight for the jugular - of the elephant in their open air room. Stalling the conversation would only make it more awkward and uncomfortable, or cause them all to bottle things up even more for the ridiculous culturally-mandated notion of saving face. Fuck that shit. Just rip off the Band Aid.

"What was it like?  All I remember is lunging, then pain and flashes of light, only to reappear nearby to continue the fight.  It felt like slipping through the void, except brighter?"  Kicking a stone along as he walked, as if the physical distraction might somehow make the topic less awkward, Freyd focused on the sandy trail it left in its wake.  It felt like he was kicking his own gut along a wild and undesirable ride, much like fate had seemingly done to them.

"Here, I was only supposed to keep hold of these until the raid was done. I owe you a Troll's Blood though. I was going to give them back to you immediately after, but you left in short order. I hope your homecoming was good as well. Hopefully Elora didn't get too much of a spook. I know it's been hard for me to even talk about it with Ciela. I've not exactly found a way to say oh hey by the way I almost got myself killed, but my mentor saved me and died in the process, but he came back."

"You don't owe me anything, Wulfrin.  It was a choice, and I believe you might have done the same for me if our roles were reversed.  I'm just glad you're okay.  That both of us are okay, to be perfectly honest. Our fates aside, I'm especially grateful for what this turn of events spared the ones we love."  An awkward kick spun his play stone into a swirl of dust where it sunk into sandy oblivion, never to be seen again.  The Whisper gulped, trying to swallow the resulting lump in his throat.

"Keep the items, unless you'd rather just never see them again.  I'd also understand if that's what you want."  Difficult mementos for a vividly difficult moment.  Drifting back to some sort of business-like transaction offered a degree of comfort around which he could anchor emotions on the verge of spilling over.  Jaw clenched, Freyd marched on into the desert, doing everything he could to keep from offering it his water.

***

Persi's private funeral

Approaching Mina, Freyd studied her face as if it was his own, the way only someone accustomed to shifting his own appearance on the fly might. What meaning did appearance have when it was utterly fluid, and yet... they all clung to it as a sense of their identity.  On instinct, Freyd reached up and pressed the back of his hand tenderly against the memento of her former face, his eyes a mixture of sorrow and admiration at her courage.  The gesture, a silent offering of thanks for her willingness to show and trust.  It had been a mutually difficult lesson, but also earned them a bond and friendship never easily dismissed.

"It wasn't a choice," he replied, in response to the comments about his own altered appearance, "but just kind of happened when things... when... I don't even know what to call what happened in the raid.  A respawn?  A glitch?"

When I died?

"I could switch it back, but that just seems... dishonest, to myself and others."

Shaking his head, as if rattling his marbles around might be enough to dislodge some missing answer, Freyd had wrung it raw since that moment trying to draw some semblance of sense from it.  Wulfrin's arrival saved him from any immediate further reflection, his kindred shadow's presence bringing warmth to the Whisper's smile.  He laughed aloud when noticing the name.

"Cute.  I'll have to get Ciela to make me something similar.  So, you found yourself a gungir?  I didn't realize they were still available anywhere.  Good on you."

Nom-noming away while his companions caught up on the fishing plans, his emotions just needed the absurdity of this moment.  Too much heady machination had thrown them into a tailspin, and thinking on it any more only brought about migraines.  It almost slipped that fishing expeditions invariably ended up backfiring on him, but he stopped himself for fear of spoiling the mood or dwelling too early on the elephant in the room, or desert.  Either way, it took up a lot of space.

"It's good to see you, Wulfrin." Clasping a hand on the other's shoulder, Freyd's eyes conveyed his gratitude that they had somehow both survived.  "I hope your homecoming was a good one."

Guiding them towards the outskirts of Fortaleza's crumbling walls, Freyd guided them in the direction of the dust bowl where Terra Firma spawned.  It was an all-too-familiar location for him and Wulfrin, especially.  "Hey, at least we don't need to talk to Abdullah on this one!"

***

Freyd takes a portion of Wulfrin's feast, because it was offered and he doesn't want to be rude.  Weirdly considerate of him.  ACC filled.

Freyd | HP: 1300/1300 | EN: 162/162 | DMG: 21 | MIT:152 | ACC: 8 (incl AA) | TAUNT | F-SPIRIT | EVA:4 | BH:72 | VAMP-D: 72 | VAMP-O: 143 | PARA-V | LD: 5

"Hannah's response only confirms that she hasn't returned here, but Zackariah's insights suggested she would need materials from the cave.  It's our most obvious lead, for the time being." 

Leading them away from the NPC's encampment, Freyd wandered round a nearby rolling hill to reveal a cave mouth once familiar to most of Aincrad's adventurers.  Its recent removal from the Lessons meant those few just starting their forays into the world would never know of it, without simply tripping into the hole.  Sparing his companion a sideways glance, he knew the mobs inside would be no threat, assuming they hadn't been changed by the system's altering of the content. Or he would have, if he hadn't looked down to find his boot inside a much larger and heavier footprint - way oversized for anything he'd ever encountered here in the past.

"I think our friend may have done a little experimentation on the local mobs, Katoka.  We should prepare properly before wandering inside."  The cave itself remained well lit from its glowing crystalline contents.  "At least darkness won't be an issue."

***

Freyd consumes and shares:

Gungir’s Shard (Untradeable/Unique/Reusable Consumable): Smokin' Hot Honey Bun Tray | ACC 2 | EVA 2 | Feast (6/6) - takes 1 portion [filled, accuracy only] and shares the rest
Draft of Keen Edge | Tierless | Perfect Potion | Damage 3 | 235947
Divinity's Wait (Meal)| T4 Mitigation 3 | 188394
Hearty Soup | Tierless Perfect Meal | Overhealth 3 | 196607b
Kintsugi. | T4 Perfect Salve | Toxic Venom | 223936k
Random Dungeon Map | T4 Dungeon | 233857

Freyd | HP: 1357/1357 | EN: 156/156 | DMG: 24 | MIT: 105 | EVA: 6 | ACC: 6 | BH: 64 | LD: 6 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | REC: 8 | V.D.: 129 | TXC-V 32
 

Eyes instantly locked upon the distant source of her voice, Freyd felt his spine melt at the sound.  Joyful.  Happy.  Not what he would have expected if the worst of his fears had manifest and she'd somehow thought him dead.  Relief palpably swept through every inch of his exhausted form, draining away unspoken tension and lifting his heart with a warmth that the raid and subsequent floor had fought hard to smother.  

"FREYD!!"

Hair like a verdant wave spreading out in the wake of her passage, she ran out to greet him in the coziest of cozy tops, surreptitiously borrowed from his closet.  The same one she often wore to keep away the cold while lovingly cuddling up against him by the hearth. It was a conscious effort to leave it out deliberately for her convenience, given his own meticulous nature. Feeling through memory the warming tenderness of that embrace, Freyd found his footfalls increasing to a flat out run.  As her arms wrapped their blessings around his neck, his own wound themselves around his woman's slender waist and pressed her close, just to make sure she was real.

"Welcome home!!", she greeted him with glee.

Burying his face in her embrace, clinging to every scent and sensation that made her who she was, Freyd clenched his eyes closed to keep everything he'd been feeling from spilling out at once.  That same hint of mint mixed with the freshness of morning dew together with his own sweat and a deluge of built up tears waiting to burst the dam.  Armor disintegrated from around his frame - was he taller - replaced by a more casual dark grey haori over a storm blue kimono. Both matched and drew attention the changes: a thin black beard with hints of grey hiding careworn lines drawn deeper into his face, not to mention the contrasting head of white hair variegated with hints of black and grey playing upon the edges.  He looked older, like life had both taken a toll yet also granted its wisdom by the same hand.

"It's me."  Spoken to address the questions forming behind her eyes.  "And it's no trick of skill or light."  She could see the truth of it in his eyes, and only then come to realize the absence of armor something small and skittish should have made her appearance.  Water pooled around the downturn of his eyes, lips pursing for his fallen friend yet conflicted by the jumble of joy and other emotions whirling at having her safe and sound in his arms.

"Did you feel anything while I was away?  Get any systems notifications or have anything happen to the house?"  Not daring to let her go, just yet, he swept Elora into his arms and carried her towards their Witherwind, lips meeting hers before she could even answer.  He'd waited too long to taste the sweet succor that made everything else fall to the background, even if only for a little while.

Ty's complete oversight of his changed appearance was endearing, but then he could already change his form so casually that she might have assumed he was simply doing it now.  Either way, it shook him out of his sorrow enough to draw attention to the subject of her ire.

"Ali?!"  He groaned, suddenly recognizing exactly where this was leading.  "You're scamming kids now?  What is it with NPCs on this floor?  Between you and Abdullah, you're giving the entire settlement a bad name."  The crafty charlatan seemed to wilt before Freyd's accusations, unsure how to counter or defend himself.  He wasn't accustomed to being so openly called out, let alone by two players.  

"Hey, Ty," Freyd resumed, keeping his eyes on the merchant while shooing the kids away with the lure of some fresh coin and promise of treats from a vendor across the square.  "I just got back from the raid. You may want to wait a bit before considering heading up to the new floor, by the way.  It's.. a bit of a nightmare.  But, in the meantime, why don't we go fetch Cassim so that this fool doesn't enlist newborns to try and do it for him."

Ali smiled awkwardly, his mouth half filled with gold teeth, making Freyd's hard tone seem only more valid by the glaring guilt behind his grin.

Emerging from the Labyrinth, Freyd was still very much in a haze.  Events had all transpired so quickly that he'd barely managed to catch his breath, let alone piece together the jigsaw puzzle that had just been made of... everything?  Lingering sensations burnt across his chest and back, memories of fatal claws and bite festering just as vividly as the 'real' ones had. The nightmare realm they found on the freshly unlocked floor certainly wasn't helping. Lightning crackled overhead, casting the barren urban landscape in its crimson hue and doing little to improve its pervasive sense of dread.

"Another devastated floor?  Is this anything like what happened on thirteen?"  Having settled on the zombie-plagued post-apocalyptic floor long after whatever tragic events had transpired, he didn't know the fully history.  The details seemed too different, at a glance, and vague recollections were that Angel's Point had involved player agency, to some degree. Overly taxed and drained by recent  inexplicable experiences, Freyd's shoulders slumped despite best efforts to the contrary. His mind finally permitting itself wandering broadly across all the potential repercussions.  

"Elora!" 

Eyes suddenly wide, his first instincts upon respawning - or whatever had happened - were to keep everyone else around him alive.  Oh... gods.  What could have happened?  What would the system do or tell her?!  This could break her heart.  What I almost did... would have...

Pain at the realization tore him apart from within; the impossible dilemma of consigning Ciela or Elora to the same soul-annihilating grief.  He'd acted purely out of instinct.  Whatever fate had spared Wulfrin and himself had likewise spared the women they loved from overwhelming sorrow.  There was no right action.  No out.  Every choice had a bad end.  Except, it somehow hadn't? 

As others emerged, most visibly or audibly troubled by their findings, the Whisper roused himself and marched purposefully across the desolate square to the portal arch.  Someone had to test and ensure that it actually worked.  

"Fortaleza."  

A gush of warm wind accompanied his disembodiment, only to remanifest a moment later, already covered in a light haze of reddish desert dust.  "Safe zone or not, the portal works, though I don't relish how obvious an ambush point this place might soon become."

Sparing only a few words for the rest of his team to thank each of them for the part they played, he urgently needed to be elsewhere.  Whatever horrors waited in abundant nooks and crannies could linger a while longer.  They'd all be as safe here, in force, as could reasonably be made possible.

"I need to rush and check on someone, but will return as soon as possible."  There were plenty of veterans around, capable of taking charge of the situation, and his heart was pounding so hard in his chest over unspoken possibilities that he couldn't possibly deny its impulses. Dark gauntlet meeting the arch once more, Freyd paused to lean against it for a moment, half-turning to call his frolicking familiar to his side.  The breath expelled died before the words could actually form. Nothing remained to answer. Pursed lips and a clench jaw failing to mask a brutally harsh truth to swallow, the man's blue eyes cast downward.  A reckoning for that loss was sure to follow, just... not yet.

"Urbus."

And he was gone.

***

Vanity Tag: @KnightessCiela @Elora

Note: CS (Shades of the Gemini) and CSA (Beckon the Void) are in use.  If any other player objects to these, please state in first post and it will be considered inactive.

Freyd | HP: 1300/1300 | EN: 162/162 | DMG: 21 | MIT:152 | ACC:4 | AA  | TAUNT | F-SPIRIT | EVA:2 | BH:72 | VAMP-D: 72 | VAMP-O: 143 | PARA-V | LD:5

An older man dressed in desert garb with a decidedly Japanese flair sat on a small outcrop just beyond Fortaleza's walls.  Thick, unruly white hair swayed slowly in the scorching desert breeze, but did not discomfort him.  Something else had already done that.  His features more worn than they were just days ago, half his face now covered in a wispy beard tainted with signs of grey, Freyd looked solemn and pensive as he sat and stared out into the arid red landscape.

A small black porcelain bowl sat on a tiny wooden tray, preciously laid out before him.  His legs folded beneath him, the man seemed to be performing some sort of rite.  Pouring some  white gaseous substance into the vessel, Freyd uttered a few private words, he watched with saddened eyes as a gust consigned them to the winds for all eternity.  Bending forward, the warrior pressed his forehead to the dusty ground in homage to the memory of his fallen friend, holding the pose until the bowl itself had emptied.

"Goodbye, my little mongoose and partner.  And, thank you."

Swallowing hard and sitting up once again, Freyd slowly packed up his things and donned his armor again with a few wayward taps of his hand into the air.  The bowl he left as a memento, before turning away and returning to town.  

"Ty?"  It was clear that he wasn't expecting a familiar face to be right around the corner, watching as she argued with another.  The young woman had grown in both strength and confidence of late, reminding him of his own early ascent through the floating castle.  Still distracted by his farewell, Freyd didn't even seem to recognize the NPC she was speaking with, nor connect what she might be getting herself into.  To be honest, the man looked uncharacteristically lost, beyond just his older appearance.

***

Note: CS (Shades of the Gemini) and CSA (Beckon the Void) are in use.  If any other player objects to these, please state in first post and it will be considered inactive.
Note: Freyd has previously completed this quest.

Freyd consumes and shares:

Gungir’s Shard (Untradeable/Unique/Reusable Consumable): Smokin' Hot Honey Bun Tray | ACC 2 | EVA 2 | Feast (6/6) - takes 1 portion [filled - ACC only]

Freyd | HP: 1300/1300 | EN: 162/162 | DMG: 21 | MIT:152 | ACC: 8 (incl AA) | TAUNT | F-SPIRIT | EVA:4 | BH:72 | VAMP-D: 72 | VAMP-O: 143 | PARA-V | LD:5

Previous Gungir evaluation: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/19579-freyds-evaluations/?do=findComment&comment=642553

Replacing current item contents with:

Smokin' Hot Honey Bun Tray | T1 Demonic Feast | ACC II | EVA II | ID: 239191
[desc.] A mouth-watering tray of Ciela's gourmet honey buns, based on the recipe Freyd shared from Freya.  Delicious and heartwarming, their scent would make a boss bear weep from twenty paces away.
Source: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/39491-f22-r5-cook-fondantes-inferno-open/?do=findComment&comment=691907

When Freyd finally returned to collect the precious order, he was literally a changed man.  Aged, or perhaps just with added seasoning, his features looked older and more worn.  A glaring shock of white hair, greying as it bled into a darker beard below with streak of black struggling for room, his bright blue eyes shone as brightly as ever.  Perhaps, even moreso than before, especially as his gaze fell upon the shopkeeper's beaming smile.  He wasn't sure what she and Wulfrin had discussed in the aftermath of the raid and chose to keep his nose out of it - for a change.  Choices made had doled out consequences for them all.  His only regret would have been the impact on his own beloved.  Only Fate's hand had stayed the outcome of that conundrum, and he still didn't understand how or why.  Maybe, he never would?

"Thanks, Ciela."  A deep breath savoring the sweet scent of his favourite treat, baked with the chef's special care and attention.  "These are a true treasure," he added, layers of meaning behind the words, beyond anything she could yet understand.  He meant it in every way.  "You can count on me putting them to good use."

***

Freyd collects:

Smokin' Hot Honey Bun Tray | T1 Demonic Feast | ACC II | EVA II | ID: 239191
[desc.] A mouth-watering tray of Ciela's gourmet honey buns, based on the recipe Freyd shared from Freya.  Delicious and heartwarming, their scent would make a boss bear weep from twenty paces away.

Standing in Urbus' central plaza, Freyd found himself captive to the first shop window he encountered.  Not because of the splendid assortment of foodstuff behind the glass. Guaranteed to be savored and satisfy, under any other circumstances, he simply had no appetite. Nor did the stranger looking back. It moved as he moved, wore a semblance of recognition, yet wasn't the same.  It spoke volumes that a man who could change his appearance on a whim could be so perplexed by the transformation wrought at Callisto's clawed hand.  Fitting that a raid boss named after a cursed nymph, herself turned into a bear, should be the agent of his own transfiguration.  Pulling off a heavy gauntlet, he ran his fingertips over newly grown facial hair, then through the same unruly crop atop his scalp.  Mostly faded to arctic white, veins of grey and strands of black still lingered within, if anyone was persistent enough to hunt for them.

Persistence.

A pang ripped through the Whispers body at her name.  He'd already checked every menu, every subroutine, even scouring the full extent of his expansive inventories on the off chance that she might be buried somewhere.  Nothing. Vaunted tracking skills fared no better.  The irksome little mongoose had simply ceased to exist.

How?  Why?!  What happened?

Eyes flitting about found no answers and no sanctuary within which they might settle a shaken spirit.  The shopkeeper, spotting him staring with uncertainty, wandered out to her doorway with concern.

"Is everything alright, sir?"

Blue eyes, faded from fatigue, focused on her bleary form.  He couldn't even pretend to say yes.  Wiping hands caked with flour and bits of nuts, she squeezed his arm and begged him to wait a moment.  He hardly felt her through the armor, and his mind was too lost in space to even register her words.

"Here.  Take this.  I use it to feed the birds in the square when I need some time and space to think."

"Elora."  Blurting out the name was all he could manage, but it somehow seemed to be enough.

"Sounds like someone important to you," the woman replied, patting him on the shoulder. "Take those.  Go see her, if you can.  Maybe she can help?

Walking to the edge of the High Fields of Crossing, his heart numb and shoulders heavy with the weight of thinking through what had transpired, Freyd knew he had no answers.

"It's still there."  A heavy sigh of relief caused him to collapse and take a knee at the cliffs' edge, tension bleeding from his frame at the sight of the home he and his beloved had built. Elation momentarily replaced his persistent malaise and disorientation. Witherwind Rest still stood, nestled in the valley near the region's edge, though the rush of water from nearby waterfalls obscured more than glimpses of it in their mist.  Having no idea what signals might have been sent by the system in the wake of the raid's bizarre events, it only just occurred to him to send word.  Please tell me she hasn't been fooled into imagining the worst...

Sending the missive and beginning his descent, Freyd had no doubt that the conversations to follow would not be so brief.

****

Freyd obtains Familiar Food from the shopkeeper.

@Elora

Note: CS (Shades of the Gemini) and CSA (Beckon the Void) are in use.  If any other player objects to these, please state in first post and it will be considered inactive.

Freyd consumes:

Spyglass - https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/20786-general-merchant/?do=findComment&comment=640849
Sweet and Sour Licorice Bites | Tierless Perfect Snack | LD III | 223577g + [Filled]
Deliberate | +1 CD | 235929
Ghost Treat | 203365
Extracted Perfume | Pheromone | 148617-1

Freyd | HP: 1300/1300 | EN: 162/162 | DMG: 21 | MIT:127 | ACC:1 | AA | TAUNT | F-SPIRIT | EVA:1 | BH:72 | VAMP-D: 72 | VAMP-O: 143 | PARA-V | LD:13

Every time using a portal, the memories returned.  That same sensation of being unmade and remade again flooded through him like the last gasp of a drowning man.  Inky void filling his lungs and smothering him from within. Dying. Every. Time.

Players used the devices daily, readily and without even a second thought.  It was just part of the game.  Freyd, instead, felt his chest tightening, fingers twitching as if to reach for something that wasn't even there or simply could never be grasped.  He'd caught himself holding his breath, more than once, and again today.  Pausing to take a deep breath, regret replaced other distractions as the stinging desert dust instantly assaulted his nose and lungs.

"Like a bloody fish out of water," he muttered, expecting only Montjoy to hear, or whoever might be watching him from behind that particular looking glass.  There were so many these days.  Staring down at his shadow for a moment, Freyd couldn't tell whether it was looking at him or had turned its back.  Fitting.  Cloth flapping in the heated blast furnace bellows Fortaleza called a breeze, the Whisper wore only a simple, casual kimono as he traveled through the town.  Completely out of context and local uniform, he didn't care.  Not about them, at least.  Too many other thoughts took precedence.

A small black ceramic bowl sat empty on a stack of nearby crates, placed there with a deliberate care and lovingly filled with ether during every visit.  It was the only way to keep her from running amok among the local shops, triggering a riot or risking an orange cursor for the sake of her insatiable, fickle appetites.  Persi had been a pain.  A wonderful, joyful, mischievous pain.

"I miss you."

Sand scoured the empty bowl, scraping clean the last of its memories.  It was the first time he'd manage to admit it aloud.  Maybe because this was her home.  They'd found each other in the wilds of floor five, long ago.  A spoopy, snotty little lout and a mongoose.  Both trying to find their way in a harsh and unkind world that would eat them both alive.  Alive.  Shit.

Clenching his hand around the oddest walking staff any of the locals had ever seen, it had some weird green bird's head carved onto one end and was too wispy thin to be practical. The few who'd taken note of it also wondered at the stringy filament running down its length.  His grandfather's fishing rod, distinctly kitsch in every way, it carried an aura of the 1950s wherever it traveled.  Spotting his friend on a nearby patio, Freyd's head tilted as he approached.  

"You changed your look again, Violet. It suits you."

A head full of grey and scruff lining his mouth, chin and jaw.  Most of the people he knew wouldn't know him to look at him.  Who was he to talk?

***

Note: CS (Shades of the Gemini) and CSA (Beckon the Void) are in use.  If any other player objects to these, please state in first post and it will be considered inactive.

Freyd | HP: 1300/1300 | EN: 162/162 | DMG: 21 | MIT:152 | ACC:4 | AA  | TAUNT | F-SPIRIT | EVA:2 | BH:72 | VAMP-D: 72 | VAMP-O: 143 | PARA-V | LD: 5