Freyd

"The price is never enough," Freyd replied, his voice somehow undistorted by the roiling shadows of his helm's face plate, which also concealed the Whisper's smirk as he watched his companion use a familiar-looking trick. If Abdullah was at all capable of memory, and Freyd believed he was, this combat should already have revealed their identities. Or his, at least, few yet being aware of Wulfrin's adoption of the same brand. "Careful. You keep this up and he's gonna start thinking you're me. And, handsome as I may be, I don't think you want that kind of bullseye on the back of your

A squad of assassins burst forth from the sand, each appearing at a different cardinal point around the players. Katars held high, they moved to strike as one - a well trained team - only to find that one of their targets had already disappeared. Flitting from shadow to shadow, Freyd snared their blades and bound their clothing, suffocating each in turn from within their respective umbras. A moment later, he was back at Wulfrin's side, their four would-be assailants crumbling to dust in a very pretty patters all around them. The crowd was stunned into silence, then broke into a raucous

[Group moves to floor 25] NIGHT brushed off concerns, again. She always did. Even when she was in a group, it's like she wasn't even there. Appropriate, given her frequent use of stealth, but also frustrating. Shaking his head and deeming it pointless to pursue any further, he set about navigating their journey to Lite'tara. Pausing a moment to gaze upon the massive status of Orgoth, he patted its foremost hoof as they passed. Good memories. Mostly bad, actually, but now wasn't really time for nostalgia. "Everyone grab a piece of chalk, unless you want to end up lost in the la

Freyd just laughed at her protest, marveling at the preposterous critique. "Pfft. Just how long do you imagine freefalling takes from a hundred feet up? We didn't even get close to the top of that thing, and its body might well have pulverized us as it collapsed, well before we hit the ground. But, yeah, sure, I'll warn you next time." A snort wrapped up his half-hearted retort, knowing she was just reacting to the adrenaline. It never even crossed his mind that Kat would react to Shadow's power with dire recollections of the the villain's worldwide flood. Irredeemable grin plastered

His previous run had gone on for ages, the blasted beast playing a confounding game as the two of them had danced around each other for what seemed like ages. This time would be different, and he'd ensure it by doing the very last thing the mob expected. Freyd stood still. One hand outstretched, he beckoned the scaled monster to come at him. His other fist he kept concealed behind him, slowly building up the necessary power for a single, devastating strike. "Oh boy," he groaned, half-expecting Fate to turn against him and leave him mauled on the sands. She was a fickle bitch, after a

"Aww... crap. That's never good, if perhaps predictable." Freyd acknowledged, confirming Bahr's observation while glancing skyward, half-expecting to see some cartoonish Cardinal pseudo-face gleefully glaring down at them. For a cold, calculating machine, it had one hell of a twisted sense of humour. "Nice dagger throws, by the way," he offered Circe, whose skills had definitely sharpened since their last encounter, the sultry woman's demeanor having shifted decidedly more towards aggression than he recalled. Duly noted. The fact that none had hit him in the back was considered a bonu

Slipping from shadow to shadow, a giant casting no small offering, Freyd rapidly reached Katoka's back, offering a gentle tap to let her know he was there. "Nice!" Grasping her wrist, deep azure eyes gleaming like beacons in the midst of a proper rockslide, they asked for her trust as he pulled her towards him and into the void. It felt weird; dark and utterly devoid of anything, including sound. In a world without anything, including light, the only tether to her sanity she could sense was the gentle press of his grip upon her sleeve. She couldn't see him, nor even her self. T

"Tesseleth? I know the name, and ran into Zandra recently, the eccentric wielding a hefty blade bearing the same name. But that particular raid predates my arrival to the Frontlines." Freyd found himself reminded of how much a newbie he still was compared to some of Aincrad's true veterans, Jomei included. He counted Hirru among them, the notable Vice-Commander famous for his own troubled past when it came to raids. "That's good intel. I'm glad you came along when you did. Were you in Charko for some other reason? It's more than a ways off the beaten path." Accepting the quest in

"I see Wulfrin, Arabelle and Acanthus have joined us," Freyd added, pointing to each with his gaze. Two he knew personally, the third having only just been introduced, though he'd crossed paths with her name once or twice before. At least a face could now be paired. "Hopefully, I haven't missed any other newcomers. If so, please step forward to introduce yourselves. It's important that we take a brief moment to welcome those who are joining us for the first time. Volunteering for the Frontlines is no small feat, and demonstrates both courage and a willingness to fight for others. Both

Snaring the wayward cat by the scruff as it sought to stray away from Mina's assault, Freyd whirled and flung it overhead to bring it smashing down into the jagged edge of a small granite outcrop with a degree of precise brutality jarring to their otherwise jovial exercise. Shard-like fragments and pixelated motes spilled all over the ground like marbles out of a broken jar. Who knew they made putty tatts in pinata form? The absence of candy was sorely missed. "Wish granted. Beastie ended," he added, plainly, azure eyes already on the prowl for the inevitable final wave. This one woul

"Jomei?" Not a face he expected to find in some obscure forgotten village in the dreg back caverns of the Underdark. Suspicion required prudence, the Whisper peering through shadow to track the familiar face, only to confirm that it belonged ten feet in front of him, just as it appeared. Heh. Not a trick, then. Shoulders bled their tension into shadows whose capacity for such things was indubitably infinite. "I guess that makes two of us," replied the darkly clad man, without so much as missing a beat. Spycraft required wits sharper than sharp reflexes, and a talent for not missing

"I don't need to wait," Freyd replied, appreciating the philosophical detour as they walked into the bleaker desert landscape on the far side of the hill. "Fortune's been kinder to me than most." Whatever the Whisper meant by the comment, he refused to elaborate. There was a distance in his eyes as he spoke, suggesting a memory or sensation recalled. Something that drove him, without the usual foreboding loss that pervaded so many Aincradian lives. Somehow, he, of all people, had found something to live for within the confines of a death game. "Take some time to stop and smell the ro

A coy smile crossed his angular features as he watched her decimate the foodstuff with unmitigated gusto, bleeding into a full and proper chuckle as cider chased cheese down her gullet. Was it going out of style, or the last sampling of some lost vestigial vintage? "Are you worried someone's going to steal your meal? I can't tell if you just really like the flavour or are trying to beat the clock in some sort of festive feeding frenzy. Or, is it some sort of Irish tradition I just don't know about" If so, the chop sticks make it weird. Catching him off guard again as she suddenly

A light chuckle greeted Kyoto's first remark, Freyd grinning at the truth of it. "No. I've been to most of the rodeos this world has to offer, at least those we've discovered to date. Though there are always a few left on my list to check out, or else newly uncovered that I've yet to complete. This one just happens to be original, from what I've seen and heard, and isn't often repeated since it offers no extra rewards. Still, worth doing at least once, right?" Leading them away from the sleepy town, traffic on the muddy road was minimal and soon drifted southward towards more rur

A lone figure in a tailored grey suit wandered into view, patrolling the small town's residents like its appointed steward - which he was. Cane in hand and duster swishing at his back, he looked overdressed for such a rural little town. Perhaps he had hopes of making it grander than it was? "Mayor Cyrus," Freyd greeted him, offering a small formal bow befitting his station. "My companion, Kyoto, and I are volunteering to take care of that pesky recurring snake problem of yours. I trust that you have no objections?" Cyrus smiled, like any politician might at having his title recogn

Trying to keep the distance to ground from the forefront of his mind wasn't helped by Katoka's reminder. He'd probably bounce, and likely wouldn't feel it overmuch due to the system's pain suppression routines, but the embarrassment of belly flopping from eight stories, then probably getting stepped on, was more than he wanted to consider. A sudden keening wail from his fist, fortunately shattered his daydream and promised to do the same to this titan. As the seals around Samael's Pride cut loose, Freyd drove his fist as hard as he could through the gigantic golem's limb, drilling through l

Rig hadn't been on his radar in ages. Most of this floor hadn't, if he was honest with himself. Nimbus itself was an interesting place, but there wasn't much around that regularly drew his attention here. It was... strangely tame? Maybe that was what made him think it might be a suitable training ground for Kyoto. The two hadn't seen each other in some time, but once help was given, the Whisper liked to keep loose tabs on the people he'd previously assisted, ensuring that they were doing well. Time was an investment, after all, and he hoped to see dividends pay off in the form of new play

Plodding by comparison to his more nimble ally, Freyd strode forward with relentless purpose. Reaching to his side, the black samurai slunk a katana black as an eclipse from its sheath, the blade absorbing all light and casting no shadows upon the ground. Sando was a sitting duck... a sitting reptilian duck... weird... as Samael's Pride snapped its widthless blade across his chest, tearing a vicious streak of orange open on his avatar's mesh. The crowd roared. Some boo-ed, but they had likely cast bets in favour of the wrong side. This moment would teach them better for the future. I

"The man's an arrogant, abusive fop, but I'm not prepared to assign him greater moustache-twirling status than he hasn't properly earned." Freyd had simply opted to hide within the confines of his armor, penning the pseudonym of 'Kuro bara no kishi' - black knight of the rose - based on an emblem he'd manifested on his left pauldron. It seemed poetic enough to entice and satisfy the unsophisticated crowd, aided by an underlayment of accuracy. His rose would understand. No one else need be any the wiser. "Abdullah is manipulative thorn, but tweaking his thorns too readily may not be in

Watching Sam decimate the lingering remnants of the colossal crab's health bar, he grunted with satisfaction before turning his blade to sifting the sands. "This beastie has a tendency to leave bonus minions buried along the beach, as I recall. We should fan out and see if we can't find any. Their drops are well worth the added bit of effort and often better than their boss." Well, potentially. Like any other unidentified object, the virtues of any demonic remained at the mercy of chance and an appraiser's skill. Still winded from his efforts against the crustacious creature, Freyd f

"History buff? Museum? Shouldn't you be carrying a whip and wearing a fedora for that sort of thing?" It was an old reference, but if her claims were legit Bee would know what he was talking about. Persi pounced after a random bit of tumbleweed carried by the wind as they crossed the desiccated town's paltry gates, making their way towards an all-too-familiar destination. Nestled in the crook between two merging sandstone spits, Freyd had come to know the silty basin all too well. Shaped remarkably like an arena surrounded by rough, near-vertical cliff walls, the bowl housed on of the flo

"Katoka was kind enough to give me a few pointers." An explanation regarding his facility with the weapons. "Though I will definitely need some practice to develop an appropriate new style. You know me. The wheels are always turning." Tapping his left temple for effect, Freyd offered his protogé a mild smirk. Plans within plans within plans. Freyd was always layers deep in the chess game of their existence - far deeper than most would ever possibly understand. "She's another one who's come a long way. There are so many. It's...gratifying. And, don't feel bad for others making the

Barely a hint of a grin on his face before he drove himself through the ramshackle wall, reminded of Circe's debt, his focus was immediately elsewhere. Flying knives and whirling blades around him either meant the others had chosen to aid him, or all had exceptionally bad aim. Dissipating mobs soon confirmed it to be the former, to his relief. The intel he was after was too sensitive to risk waiting for reinforcements, and he'd taken a chance diving in with hostiles before him and unknowns to the rear. All three were passing acquaintances, at best, but only mildly better than total strange

Preferring a guaranteed hit over power, it was all the situation required. The rest of the party had already flensed the thing to bitses, every part handing on by a virtual thread. Har har. Swapping weapons as he moved, Freyd whirled and went for an unexpected weak spot: the pinky claw on its left leg - not back one, not the front leg it could also use as an arm, because dragons were weird. Centaurs never had this problem, being considerate enough to bring an extra, proper set of arms and keep their legs as legs. Where was he? Oh. Right. Dragon. He must have hit the giga-gecko, be

Drawing the blade fully, aware of his companion's professional interest, it only seemed courteous to indulge him. Resting its black blade against a matte charcoal vambrace, the blade hovered fractions of an inch above the actual material, as if the two refused each other contact and coexistence. Yet another way in which Freyd bore our the paradox theme of his existence. "I can't claim to have any skill at the forge or to put in the effort in the same way as those who toil at other crafts. Appraisers' arts are more akin to magic, in a way, trading in secrets and properties bound by o