Freyd

The jackal sensed them too, and grew increasingly agitated at the prospect of dying within reach of such an abundant feast.

"Not today, fuzzball," Freyd warned.  "I've spent two days looking for these guys, and you're not going to blow this for me."

The jackal merely barked and snapped back at him, as if responding to his taunt.  Its eyes darted across every shadow as it scrambled to retreat through the solid wall of the cave.  Realizing that Freyd blocked its only avenue of escape, it turned its attention back towards him and launched itself with all remaining fury in a bid to forcible dislodge him, or even push over the cliff's edge beyond.  His guard held as it clamped its jaws down on his sword, trying to wrench it from his grasp.  A kick to its injured snout caused it to collapse in pain and anguish, then scramble back to its feet.  Its right eye was bloody and badly injured.

Disobedience's white blade cut deep into the creature's neck with a heavy downward swing, knocking it prone and dazing it momentarily.  It shook its head, trying to re calibrate its badly shaken sense, biting and swiping randomly to keep him at bay.  It was a good hit, and Freyd followed up his attacks to keep it warbling off balance.  It yelped and barked in frustration, hoping to scare him off, now that the tide of battle had turned away from it.  Freyd kept the pressure on, forcing it to press itself against the back walls of the cave.

His senses sharpened by the racing adrenaline of battle, he noticed a series of small nooks and holes in the cave wall that he had previously missed.  Wisp-like tendrils of black shadow-stuff trailed out of several of them, suggesting that they might have an unexpected audience.  Out of one opening, he swore that he saw a pair of bright blue eyes open, then shut again just as quickly.

This time, it worked.  Freyd charge, unleashing a wicked series of blows upon the jackal.  It couldn't keep up with his barrage and gave ground as tufts of fur and a few teeth went flying in all directions.  It yelped and snarled curtly, but was unable to counter and had to settle for surrounding itself with the protection of stone, for all the good it would do.  Freyd had it cornered, and meant to keep it that way.  Fighting in the cave would also help keep them out of sight, though the gnolls had excellent noses and were likely seeking them by scent.  

One problem at a time.

A swift kick to a nearby stone sent it ricocheting off the cave all and into the beast's flank.  It turned, thinking another opponent had snuck up behind it, and baring its neck to his blade in the process.

Freyd allowed himself a small smile.

*YIP!*

It had been enough.  Freyd caught the beast on the tip of his nose with his blade, causing it to leap back, snarling defensively.  Few areas on its body were likely as sensitive.  He regained the ground he'd previously given up and pressed its back against the cave mouth.  It managed to rake him across the forearms with its claws, but he felt like he was finally getting back in the game.

Planting his heel, Freyd spun multiple times, striking the jackal multiple times in series.  Both of them paused again, momentarily, gauging the new balance of their engagement.  Neither truly had the upper hand, but both felt assured that victory remained possible, and both were keenly aware that their fight could be interrupted if it lasted too long.  They danced and feinted against each other, unwilling to commit but eager for an opening.  Freyd chose to take the initiative.

It proved to be a mistake.  The jackal's increased aggression and hunger made it even more dangerous and it successfully clipped his leg, giving Freyd an actual injury worth worrying about.  He'd traded defensible ground for a worse position and gained nothing in return.

Darn.  Bad bet. 

Fancy footwork was only going to take him so far.  He needed something else that could serve as advantage.  There was little to work with on the narrow ledge without taking greater risks, and his luck had been abysmally bad so far.    All he needed was-

*A howl in echoed in the distance.*

Great.  Just... great.  If the Gnoll join this battle, I'm as good as dead.

The jackal jumped with fright when it heard the noise and sniffed haltingly at the wind.  There was a silent pause as he and his foe turned their attention back to each other.  It wasn't the opening he had hoped for, but it might have to do.

Identical results to items approved in post #5, above.

Freyd stood watching the locals break and flee for cover after pig-dude did his thing.  His expression remained dispassionate and unchanging.  He felt drained, just like everyone else.  He'd have counted himself among them, less than a week ago.

It didn't matter. 

It had taken him far too long to work up the nerve to pick up a sword.  He wasn't about to go cowering back in the shadows now.  His gear was untested, and amounted to the very first things he'd found to fill his item slots.  Only Forgiven Disobedience was remarkable, and he still wasn't sure who had sent it his way.  The black cassock he wore made him look like some sort of priest striding inexorably towards doom.

It didn't matter. 

Picking up speed against the fleeing tide, he summoned the white blade to his waiting hands, strides lengthening as he made his way into the fray.  There were heroes all around, most of whom he didn't know or could not recognize.  They were magnificent and glorious, in a league unto themselves and wielding mighty implements of death.  It occurred to him that he might die.

It didn't matter. 

Freyd had finally found the courage to conquer fear and stand for something greater: the lives of those around him, the mantle of a warrior where once there stood a coward, and the knowledge that he had given his all when it might matter the most.

That, was all that mattered.

Darting blade and gnashing teeth about, but neither achieved an effective strike.  Freyd couldn't seem to maneuvers around enough to force the dire jackal to give ground and retreat into the larger cave.  Its attacks were just too quick, and its footwork was equally nimble.  It seemed able to anticipate his every thrust and swing.  He tried switching up his attack pattern, but to no avail.  

'This one is clever,' he thought.  'How do I throw it off balance?'

If he couldn't push it into his trap, perhaps he could lure it into thinking it had the advantage.  He started giving ground, feigning injury to his leg by limping as he gradually shuffled backwards into a narrowing part of the ledge.  The jackal advanced, licking its lips in anticipation of a pending meal.  Barking and hopping around with growing excitement, it grew eager and ambitious, taking greater risks in hope of reward.

The two opponents danced clumsily against one another, the width of the ledge they stood on limiting their options.  Freyd used Forgiven Disobedience to keep the beast at bay, and it had to close in order to make use of its bite.

Freyd's options were limited.  The ledge behind him narrowed and would further reduce his mobility.  The creature attacking him looked nimble and could surely follow him if he tried climbing up to the next ledge, which would expose him to attack if he tried.  The angle of the canyon wall here was too sharp to try sliding down to the next ledge, which he couldn't even see and could be 50 feet or more below.  Forcing it back into the larger cave he'd just passed seemed like his best course of action.  He just needed to make himself an opportunity to strike and it and learn why the sharp white metal stick he was waving around was dangerous to it.

Something immediately bit into Freyd's hand wrenching it painfully back and forth.  He release his grip on the ledge and using his own weight to add force to his escape.  His attacker tumbled down with him.  It was a large, ferocious looking animal with features resembling a mix of wolf and fox.  It's matted brown-black fur was covered in burrs and bare in several areas.  Glowing red eyes, combined with its size, gave it a decidedly unnatural appearance.

It scampered back to its feet and barked threateningly at him.  The creature was lanky and very quiet for its size.  He was lucky it hadn't pounced on him earlier, though he regretted giving it such an easy target.  Flexing his wounded hand as he gripped his sword, he noticed that the extent of the wound had been blunted by his vambraces.  Maybe he'd caught a lucky break after all.  Time would tell.

He found another entrance a bit further down. This one much larger than the first, but not very deep.  It reminded him more of a den than a burrow.  There was no obvious evidence that it had seen recent occupancy, not that a digital mob would necessarily leave any.  Expectations were hard to manage in SAO.  They so often varied by the degree of effort put in by whoever designed that particular area, rather than conforming to universal rules and consistency.  There was an essence of 'beta' still about certain corners.

A quick check of the ceiling didn't reveal any surprises - no giant spider waiting the drop down, piercers or tangle of vines prepared to latch onto an unsuspecting victim.  It was just an empty cave.

More sounds of movement came from above.  Freyd spotted a point, up ahead, where his ledge rose to within reach of the one above.  Moving as swiftly and quietly as possible, he made his way there and peered back to see if he could spot his mysterious stalker.

Something flitted quickly above him.  It was small, but extremely fast.  He heard its feet scrambling lightly on a few stray bits of sand and rock.  

Pausing to detect more movement, he heard none.  The wall was brightly lit, but revealed no source of movement.  It occurred to him that the various den entrances could all be linked internally.  Sandstone was relatively soft and required less effort to burrow through, and it would be just like most game designers to hide one or more dungeons in a warren behind these walls.

Approaching the first opening, he quickly peered inside to see if any thing was visible.  A short tunnel veered upward out of sight, otherwise empty and unremarkable.  Freyd tossed in a few loose pebbles to see if anything would react or reveal itself. 

Nothing happened.

This particular entrance was too small for him to enter.  It would be suicide to even attempt to access any place where he couldn't swing his sword freely.

The chase compelled him to make good time.  He arrived at the canyon mentioned by Gidrick almost an hour earlier than he had expected.  A ravenous pack of gnolls nipping at your heels will do that for you.  The canyon walls were lines with narrow ledges created that might have once been cut by water to reveal the various geological strata - if the who place hadn't just been created wholesale from some graphic designer's mind.  It was still a nice bit of attention to detail, which Freyd appreciated.

Spotting a series of small pocked openings along one of the ledges, each about the right size, he took that path and hoped his luck would improved.  Getting caught between the gnolls and something else in those dens might mean twinky-sized badness.  He couldn't afford that right now. 

The ledge was wide enough to allow quick movement for the first hundred feet or so.  It also curved around the bends in the canyon wall enough to provide some cover from the main pass.  He hoped the gnolls would take the other route.

Freyd rushed the dazed gnoll before it could retrieve its weapon or its wits, lopping its canine head right off of its body.  The severed parts exploded into balls of light, ending the battle.  More howls echoed from the surrounding hills before Freyd could catch his breath.

Great.  So much for keeping it from attracting attention.

Sparing only a moment to collect its paltry loot, he raced farther along the path hoping to avoid any additional pursuers.  If not, he had to spread them apart enough not to engage any more than necessary.  He wished he had @Yuki along.  Her tanking skills would be a big help right now.  That nagging part of his brain that inevitably felt compelled to comment berated him for thinking he had to try to complete all of these tasks by himself.

'Most other players have already completed all of this content,' he retorted.  'I'm not going to beg or plead for others to do what I should have done for myself long ago.'

The howls repeated.  They were getting closer.

"Talk, talk, talk,"  Freyd taunted,  "Is that all you know how to do?"

*RAWR!!!*

It launched into a reckless series of attacks, trying to leverage its size and strength to some advantage, but without success.  Freyd had caught its pattern of attacks and parried or dodged them all without having to give ground, adding injury to insult with a few well-placed swings of his own.  The thing was waning, but its strength wasn't wholly spent just yet.  Rearing back, with a hint of madness in its eyes, it gave a mighty swing of its axe to the promontory beneath both their feet.  The stone cracked with the sound of a massive thunderclap, sending them both tumbling down the cliffside.

Freyd did his best to control his slide, but slipped into a tumble three-quarters of the way down.  The gnoll had also survived and was busy retrieving its weapon from beneath one of the larger pieces of stone.

Letting his stance shift, deliberately, Freyd made it appear that he was exposing himself to another bite.  The gnoll took the bait and overreached, causing its own attack to miss and allowing Freyd's blade to cut across its back.

It howled in agony.

That's going to be a problem, if it gets the attention of others.

A quick pommel strike to the face shut it up immediately, but he couldn't risk staying close enough to keep doing that.  He hopped back to dodge another downward swing from its axe.  The blade rebounded off the hard stone beneath their feet, jarring its elbows.

"Your skull is MINE, meatling!"  It stomped its feet and beat the haft of its weapon against its chest, seemingly more for its own benefit than any serious attempt to scare him.  It was losing, and knew it.

Oh good.  It was mad.  That meant it was more likely to make mistakes.

"AHAHAHA!  More meat, come to feed the clan!" It barked, recovering its footing.  The thing stood almost two feet taller than Freyd, though his sword had already helped him make an impression.

"Yeah, yeah..." was Freyd's only retort.  The thing was already yammering about how it would roast him and make pick its teeth with his bones.  It felt like a pre-programmed spiel and wasn't doing much to intimidate him.  

The gnoll's size and strength had been enough to stymie his attempt to push it off the cliff, which suited him just as well.  It wasn't going anywhere either.  Both combatants continued trading blows, seeking an opening to turn the tables.  The gnoll caught Freyd off guard briefly when it nipped at him with its bite.   He hadn't expected it to be able to stop talking long enough to do so.  Lesson learned, he changed his footwork and kept more distance between them.

The Windstrider Gnolls were rumoured to inhabit this part of floor 5.  Freyd had read about them during his preparations for this journey.  Not particularly bright, but dangerous in large packs.  His best option was to make it past them without alerting them to his presence.  That meant having to remove the lone scout he'd spotted crouched on an overlook up ahead.  

Finding a climbable series of stones, he reached the same level and snuck up behind it, bursting into a run when he got close.  A greatsword was not a stealthy weapon.  He needed to overwhelm it and prevent it from calling in reinforcements.

It turned at the sound of his increasingly rapid footfall, attempting a last minute parry with its crude, double-bladed axe.  Freyd ducked under it and caught it in the abdomen with a vicious slice.  He kept up his advance, turning its vantage point into a trap blocking any escape route.

***

Freyd was staring in a hole roughly four feet in diameter and six feet deep.  The bottom had an imprint of a box that likely vanished when its contents were emptied. 

It figures: Gidrick must give out the same advice for everyone who gives him a tip.  Someone else just got here before me.

He surveyed the sand-covered landscape.

At least this location leads to the pass, and my destination.  

The winds picked up again and he shielded his eyes against the blowing dust.  There was no point standing here any longer.  He resumed his travels to towards the pass, hoping that it would be more sheltered than these open dunes.  An hour later, he caught sight of one of the milestone markers lining the route.  It was heavily worn, but the engraved sigils still glowed with power.  Twins peaks of weathered sandstone towered on either side.  The pass traveled along a winding road between them, skirting cliffs and following long-dry waterways.  Freyd briefly touched the stones with his fingertips as be walked by them, as if promising to return.

"I think I was there today," Freyd added, grabbing and holding the top of Gidrick's hand as he made to collect the rest of the coin.  "How about a bit more detail before I finish my meal."  Gidrick's smile revealed a few missing teeth that made him look more like a pirate than a bartender.

"Aye," he nodded.  "There's a canyon that breaks off from the main pass, about half way along.  Check for dens in the cliff wall.  They're known to burrow there.  Be wary, though.  Most of the local beasts favour them as a snack and would be glad to add you to their meal as well."

"You'll also want to be checking here," he slipped him a small piece of marked parchment.  "There could be something useful for you."

Freyd thanked him and released his hand.  The last of his coin vanished.  Freyd gathered his wits and then headed up to his room.  His search would resume at dawn.  The last thing to cross his mind as he closed his eyes was a pair of piercing blue eyes.

The barkeep was kind or wise enough to let Freyd finish his meal before pressing him with any more questions.  The bar was empty, save for the two of them.  Business was slow.

"So," he started cautiously, "What was it you were looking for?"

Freyd tapped the edge of his empty mug and waited for a refill before responding.

"Some shadowy, mongoose-looking thing with bright blue eyes," he replied, after downing half of its contents again.

His companion's face gave away his surprise.

"I've heard of those.  Can't say that we've had too many out here looking for them as familiars."

Freyd's palm full of coin jingled loudly as it struck the table.  It was clearly more than would be needed to cover his bill.  His face remained expressionless.  This had become a business transaction.

"You'll fit in well around here," said the barkeep, deftly sliding them into his apron without a sound.  "My name's Gidrick," he added, without offering his hand, "and if its the blue shadow mongoose you're seeking, you'll want to try over by El Paso del Diablo."

The Cactus Hack was quiet that night.  There weren't many options for inns in Fortaleza, and this one seemed the least run down.  Approaching the bar, Freyd noticed a message carved into the seat on on the stools:

'ReSerVeD for THose SeeKING FaMILiars'

He stood, staring at it for a minute.

"If you're taking that long to process it," said the barkeep, "you probably qualify."

He tossed a pewter mug full of something dark in front of Freyd.

"No luck today?"

Freyd took a drink.  It turned out to be water, but he was parched and grateful for it.  Glancing over the edge of the mug, he held up his other hand, pinching his fingers to within a millimeter of touching.  The barkeep shook his head.

"That's worse than not finding anything at all."  He grabbed the stained rag from his shoulder and gave the bar a quick wipe.  "Can I get you something to eat?"

"Anything but snake," was Freyd's only reply.

He was too late.

Just as he brought the potion up to the creature's lips, it started glowing brightly and de-materialized into a thousand tiny brilliant shards of light.  Freyd's eyes widened and watched as the cloud enveloped him.  There was something incredibly serene about the moment.  He felt connected to something - some force or presence still lingering around him.  He reached up and touched one of the motes, feeling warmth upon his fingertip as it winked out of existence.  The remaining motes extinguished themselves, leaving him alone in the darkening gorge.  It was time to head back to Fortaleza and rest for the night.  The search would continue tomorrow.

"Maybe you'll have re-spawned by then, little one," he said aloud, "and we can find each other again."

Wary of more serpents in the area, Freyd headed towards the nearest climbable surface and returned to the road.  The sun was just touching the horizon when he emerged.

Freyd's arms shook with the weight of the ongoing effort, but managed one last direct charge.  The serpent flailed and hissed as the blade sank deep into its flesh.  Then it froze, momentarily, before shattering into a thousand motes of light and data that hovered gently in the air before vanishing.  Freyd slumped to one wobbly knee, hanging desperately onto Forgiven Disobedience to keep him from falling over.  His injuries were negligible, but he'd gone all out to beat this thing and was feeling a bit light-headed and short of breath.  Placing one hand on the ground to brace himself, he suddenly remembered the mongoose.  It's small form was rested, perfectly still, only a few feet away.  It's health bar was in the final percentile.  Was he too late?  Struggling to get to his feet, he stumbled over to check on its condition.  Kneeling beside it and ignoring any risk of attack, he pulled out a healing potion, hoping that it might be enough.