Freyd

"There's someone waiting for me. I dreamt that when I got out, they were..."

Freyd remained still, his gaze deliberately redirected towards the sound of the approaching avalanche.  His eyes closed when he heard those words, and a hint of revelation about Chase's pain, or at least some semblance of it.  How had Kayaba attracted so many broken people?  Maybe the truth was that all people were just broken, or in need of some manner of mending.  He had to include himself in that gross generalization.  As hollow as he often felt inside, his recent experiences had given him hope.  It was only right to offer some of the same to others.

"No one here really knows what is happening outside.  This place could be a dream, wherein we live lifetimes in a blink of real world time.  Those who die here could simply awaken."  His voice continued in a sincere and serene manner.  "It could all be much, much darker.  The point is: we don't know.  We have only what we choose to believe.  Your nightmares will linger until you make that choice."

Despite their superficial differences, Freyd was starting to feel a certain kinship with Chase.  His reserved and elusive nature suggested the same inward focus to which he also subscribed.  He suspected that the man had far deeper character than his casual surface demeanor revealed.  It was something he could respect, and so gave his questions due consideration.

"You do the best you can.  I know how hollow that sounds, but there are no magical salves to appease a troubled soul.  Find someone you trust.  Talk it out, regardless of how long it takes.  My mistake was always thinking I had to do everything alone.  It's why I still travel to these floors and help random strangers."  A small smile appeared beneath careworn wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.  Freyd was only a few years older than Chase, but there was an aged quality about him that came through in the way he spoke and carried himself.  "I waited in the Town of Beginnings myself, for way too long, struggling to figure out what I should do.  Eventually, you find your courage.  If you've already come this far, it safe to assume that you're already found yours."

A cascade of falling snow could be heard through the nearby woods.  Freyd finally summoned his weapon to hand - a gleaming white blade set in a hilt and cross guard of crimson red and gold.  The faint whisper of an angelic choir could be heard on the wind.

"When you're ready, and not before, go complete the <<Calming the Soul>> quest.  It made a huge difference for me."  He was pensive for a few moments.  "Do you want tell me what's been bothering you?"

"Finally!"  Freyd pronounced with a hint of cold and callous pragmatism.  "Someone who finally understands the reality of our situation.  Raidou is the only other player I've met whom I can honestly believe has come to the same conclusion."  Epiphany might have been a better word, but it implied an even more depressing level of awareness that added nothing to the conversation.  Tension was clear in Freyd's tone, as if he were on the verge of some cathartic release of pent up frustration.  "How tragic is that?  Ten thousand people are trapped in this digital box.  Half of them were clueless kids faced with the terrifying choice to mentally crack or grow up real fast.  Another quarter are sensory junkies and self-indulgent godmodders too busy enjoying the fluffy aspects of the content or their own pleasures and delusions.  That leaves the rest of us to pick up the pieces, and take most of the risks and casualties in the process."

Freyd realized that his fists had clenched and had to mentally command them to relax.  "Every once in a while, some few souls from the other groups wake up and join the real game."  He counted himself among those, but didn't dare admit it so casually.  "In the meantime, Akihiko Kayaba's experiment is really being played against a much smaller group."  His eyes met Oscars as he spoke his next words.  "He doesn't need ten thousand names on the Monument of Life.  A few more hundred will guarantee that he will own them all."

Freyd shrugged.  "Sure, I guess?" 

Everybody had or wanted dragons.  It was practically cliche.  He'd deliberately steered away from anything so obvious, though he had to admit that he had seen a reasonable array of different types that gave him some hope.  If Elora wanted such a beast, what did it matter to him?  It was her choice.  He busied himself watching the creature's odd behaviour and pondering the chromatic excess of this particular floor.  It made him long for the simpler palettes used on the likes of floor nine and thirteen.  This place carried an air of rainbows and unicorns that creeped him out in a sickly-sweet sort of way that implied death by teddy bear hugs, heart-stopping cuteness or some other equally sadistic twist.  It was far from the way he'd prefer to go, if his time came.

Watching Elora approach her chosen beast, he checked his storage to ensure that he still had suitable first aid supplies, in case it tried to gnaw her face off or amputate something.  Cute was rarely just cute, at least in Aincrad.

'That was an abrupt twist,' he thought to himself.  'And how has he gotten to this level without even knowing which boss he's after?'

"You mean other than the constant waking one we're all sharing?"  Freyd replied with a chuckle.  "It seems like a bit of an odd and personal question, but yeah, sure: I have."

He didn't react upon seeing Chase's name, and couldn't recall having heard it anywhere before.  With thousands of players still active in the game, it wasn't overly surprising.  Accepting the party invite meant that the could afford to lessen his guard.  Pulling back his cowl, he revealed a surprisingly plain face with few memorable details.  Freyd had wide, disinterested brown eyes with hints of red within them.  His tussled hair was mousy brown and looked like it might aggressively defend itself to resist any comb or brush.  He just seemed... blank?

"Is there something in particular that you're meaning to ask about, or is this just your default topic of conversation?"

Freyd looked askance at the man  from beneath his hood as asked about the Easter egg comment.  It was a throw-away line.  What caught his attention was that he genuinely didn't seem to get the reference.  With only ten thousand copies of SAO available, it seemed odd for a non-gamer to have bothered to chase after a rare and valuable copy.

"Oh, I just meant some secret that the game designers might have buried in the content for players to discover.  They call it an Easter egg because it's meant to be a surprise."  Freyd watched his reaction carefully, wondering if this was some kind of angle to make him drop his guard, even as he extended a party invitation.

"A field boss, you said.  Is it for Avalanche or Essence of Steel?  I can't imagine you'd want to try your hand at Absolute Zero solo?"  He eyes the man's gear with his merchant's eye, assessing its properties and capabilities.

"Name's Freyd, by the way."

He really didn't need to give this guy the full run down and history on a complicated multi-level player killing conspiracy fostered by disgruntled semi-sentient computer programs within the first few seconds of their meeting.  That might be a bit much, and his last three attempts to do so with others hadn't gone so well.

"Yeah... I guess it could be; the informal, unofficial kind.  It's something I stumbled onto a while back.  Maybe it's some kind of forgotten easter egg or something."   He shrugged, then motioned with his hand, requesting that the token be returned.  "I'm heading into the wilds to check for clues.  Do you need a hand with anything?"  

His offer was genuine.  Freyd was so nonchalant as to be dismiss-able as non-existent.  Helping other players only helped the overall group.  Neither of them had orange icons over their heads, which also kept things simpler.  Besides, if things were churning in the direction he expected, they were all going to need each other at full strength soon enough.

Freyd's neutral expression returned as he processed the problem at hand.  Billy had been the one to set him on his search for a familiar by helping him understand more about himself.  Could that help with Elora?  So much about her remained a mystery to him.  She could be flighty, whimsical, occasionally explosive and certainly emotional - basically the full spectrum opposite to himself.  He also had less than zero experience with members of the fairer sex, and couldn't account for other variables that might apply, much less even fathom them.  This was all likely to translate in him taking about the worst possible approach to helping her as he tried to figure who she was instead of what she wanted or needed.

"Hrm..."  His red eyes scanned her from green hair to brown boots, as if that was somehow going to reveal some obvious sign or connection.  They lingered on her hands as he recalled her passion for art during their brief visit to Hannah during her third lesson quest.  The mischief in the boat also came to mind, along with several temperamental blowouts.  He snapped his gloved fingers.  She needed something to help keep her grounded.  For once, he had the foresight not to say it out loud.

"Yeah... I think either of those floors could do."

Freyd was busy skulking because that seemed to be what did most often, and best.  His latest tip had led him to the frozen wastelands of floor four, though he struggled to figure out what he could possibly hope to find in such a place.  Trails literally went cold here, and any sigh of them vanished in the howls of the blowing winds as they covered up tracks and erased any evidence of passage.  His dark traveling leathers and charcoal-coloured cowl also made him stand out more in the wilderness, though many people tended to forget how common shadows could be in, even in places that seemed to offer nothing but white.  

A heavy overnight snow had added thick fresh powder all over the settlement and surroundings, trailed by a few persistent flurries that played like children in its aftermath.  The cold didn't bother him at all, but he seemed to be at a bit of a loss for direction when he noticed a man watching him with weapon drawn.  Oblivious to any threat he might represent, or simply disregarding it, Freyd trudged towards him without bothering to summon his own blade.

"Pardon me, but have you seen this symbol anywhere around here?"  He flicked a stone token about six inches in diameter towards him.  It was made of polished black onyx with the etching of a tower on side flickered bright red as if reflecting a fiery core within.  The tower's profile resembled that of Aincrad, save that it had the embossed profile of an obsidian blade plunged through it, blade pointed down.  He watched curiously to see whether the man would catch it or retain his grip on his sword.

Thread Summary

3 SP (1 page + 1 event +1 Yue's Grace)

129,005*Col
70*T3 Materials

T3 Rare Consumable #165367a
T3 Rare Armor/Shield165367b
T3 Rare Weapon #165368a
T3 Uncommon Consumable #165368b
T3 Rare Weapon #165369a
T3 Uncommon Consumable #165369b
T3 Rare Trinket #165370a
(21) Intermediate Dungeon Map #165413
T3 Rare Armor/Shield #165412a
T3 Perfect Weapon #165413a
T3 Perfect Weapon #165413b
T3 Perfect Weapon #165413c
T3 Rare Consumable #165414a
T3 Rare Armor/Shield165414b
T3 Perfect Consumable #165424a
T3 Perfect Consumable #165424b
T3 Perfect Armor/Shield #165424c
T3 Perfect Armor/Shield #165424d
T3 Perfect Weapon #165425a
T3 Perfect Weapon #165425b
T3 Perfect Weapon #165425c
T3 Rare Armor/Shield #165426a
T3 Perfect Trinket #165427a
T3 Perfect Weapon #165427b
T3 Rare Armor/Shield #165436a
T3 Perfect Armor/Shield #165437a
T3 Perfect Consumable #165437b
T3 Perfect Consumable #165437c
T3 Rare Weapon #165438a
T3 Uncommon Consumable #165438b
T3 Perfect Armor/Shield #165439a
T3 Perfect Weapon #165439b
T3 Rare Weapon #165448a
T3 Uncommon Consumable #165448b
T3 Rare Weapon #165449a
T3 Uncommon Consumable #165449b
(21) Intermediate Dungeon Map #165450
T3 Perfect Armor/Shield #165451a
T3 Perfect Weapon #165451b
T3 Perfect Weapon #165451c
T3 perfect armor/shield #165453a
T3 rare consumables #165453b
T3 rare consumables #165453c
T3 Perfect Armor/Shield #165464a
T3 Perfect Weapon #165464b
T3 Perfect Weapon #165464c
T3 Perfect Consumable #165465a
T3 Rare Trinket #165465b
(21) Intermediate Dungeon Map #165466
T3 Rare Trinket #165467a
 

"Shame."  A lightning quick slash sent her axe soaring from her hand over and into the chasm behind her.  With only her shield left to protect her, the dark elf gave ground until she was cornered against the very same drop.  

"The name and location of the Sundered Spire's leaders.  It's all I want."

"Never."  He could see in her eyes that she was a believer.

"You think you've won, but I can't die.  Every time you strike me down, I will inevitably return until, one day, it is your turn."  A mad, cackling laughter rose from her chest and throat as her eyes suddenly began to glow a brilliant red.  Cardinal...

"We'll be seeing you again, very soon."  

He watched her fall, her gleaming, possessed eyes shimmering through the darkness well beyond the point where the rest of her body had been engulfed by the shadows of the depths.  This was the true measure of the Sundered Spire's resolve.  They would die untold deaths in order to achieve victory, whereas each player had but one life to lose.  Those were not good odds.

"Help me find another way to end this, and I will gladly consider it.  For now, Kayaba and Cardinal offer us few other options."

She sneered at his poor excuses, launching herself forward and batting his weapon aside with her shield.  Her axe found purchase in his exposed left arm before he recovered his guard, having given ground and taken the blow deliberately to pull her away from the edge.

"I'm not looking for an out!  I want payback against you all.  And you're all so stupid that you haven't yet realized that you're fighting against an invincible foe!"  She grunted as she beat her axe against his blade repeatedly.  "Every time you strike us down, we return, angrier and more committed in our resolve than the last time.  It's only a matter of time until we overwhelm you all - even if it takes another thousand deaths"  There was a hint of madness in her eyes, and frothing berserker rage on her lips as she kept up her battering attacks.  Freyd knew instantly that she was too far gone.

The other sentinels fell swiftly, leaving Freyd to face off against their commander.  She had watched him devastate her troops with his relentless advance, shouting futile commands to her men who could do nothing against the rising tide of darkness moving through their ranks.  Now, it was just her, with her shield and axe at the ready.  He pulled back his cowl in respect for her efforts, and to better the odds of conversing.

"I only need answers.  Provide me those, and I will leave."

"Are you insane?!" The female spat back at him.  "I'm already here because one of you robbed me of my honour by decimating my clan.  You think I'm going to endure that a second time?"

Freyd glanced at the carnage behind him, slowly evaporating into clouds of glittering light.

"We can do it the hard way, if you prefer."  He had few options.  The only path was forward.

It wasn't much of a guard post.  The place looked like it had already been decimated by some sort of rock titan.  Large sections of the cavern floor and walls had been torn asunder by the blows of some massive creature.  The post seemed to mark the edge of dark elf territory in this part of the floor and had likely been rebuilt many times.  It reeked of a dumping spot for soldiers who had displeased their superiors, left to rot here until the assorted monstrosities from deeper delves rose to wipe them out again.  

Freyd had sat, watching the post for nearly an hour before spotting the sentries.  They were well-concealed.  This batch of outcastes might actually be more capable than their predecessors.  They had also made use of the debris left by their predecessors, using it as cover rather than replacing an obviously failed redoubt.  Their leader - a lithe, dangerous-looking woman - stood upon the promontory, surveying the chasms below for threats.  They were only worried about threats from below.  So much the better.  Freyd initial assault caught them completely off guard.

His expression softened, the weight of all the other myriad self-imposed duties and responsibilities melting away when he saw raise the spyglass.

"Absolutely."  Freyd's smile broadened as he fondly recalled his own ordeals finding and later training with Persi.  "It's strange.  I was never much of a pet person, but now I couldn't imagine life without Persi.  I guess they may be part of all this in some way.  If mobs can learn and resent, what could our relationships with our familiars mean?"  Elora had raised a good point.  There were plenty of NPCs he'd encountered who would likely recall their exchanges with players fondly.  Marv immediately came to mind - at least he hoped he would.

"Any idea what you're looking for, or where we should try to find it?"

Persi had sneaked around the tree trunk and began sniffing at Elora's boots and clothing from behind, her blue eyes alight with curiosity.

The footlocker yielded some valuable loot to add to his growing collection.  This was turning into a rather profitable foray.  No wonder players came to grind here so often.  Grinding.  Could it actually be the source of this problem?

Stowing his winnings, Freyd allowed himself a brief reprieve to consider his next moves.  The guard post remained a suitable final target for this raid.  He'd already discovered more than he had originally hoped.  Getting all of this info back to the Cathedral of the Forgotten could prove crucial to exposing the truth behind the Sundered Spire.  With it, Firm Anima could plumb the depths of their insidious agenda and shatter whatever misbegotten schemes they were incubating before they came to fruition.

"One last stop," he said aloud.  Persi had just settled onto a nearby bunk and reluctantly agreed, stepping back down to the floor.  She had certainly pulled her weight in all of this, which he recognized by throwing her a quick treat from an unfinished meal on the dark elves' table.

Freyd rests and recovers 40 hp (20 +10 from Relaxed + 10 water canister = 40/post))  (now at 760/940).  Energy fully recovered (Relaxed).

Collecting the loot from the fallen assassins, Freyd was struck by the contrast between this battle and those previous to it.  Just like players, the mobs seemed to be developing a variety of factions and a corresponding mix of devotions.  Most remained mindlessly focused on their duties or objectives with little autonomous thought.  For all the clever decorative splash on their faces, the assassins remained little more than your run-of-the-mill angry mobs.  There was a glimmer in the eye of the one with whom he had bantered during their fray, but not enough to convince him of true awareness.  That, or he'd bought in wholesale to the Sundered Spire's propaganda.

Grasping an ebony token with the Spire's mark in red blood, Freyd looked up to where his assailants had been perched to observe his movements.  A platform had been cleverly concealed among a tangle of vines above.  A quick climb and inspection revealed a perfectly suitable hideout and resting place, including a conveniently abandoned chest.

Freyd rests and recovers 40 hp (20 +10 from Relaxed + 10 water canister = 40/post))  (now at 720/940).  

"You can't hope to defeat us all, User.  We are leg-"

*SMACK*

"Yeah, I actually can, jerk face.  And while I'm all in favour of trading barbs during combat, cliches earn you an instant face-full of fist.  Move back five yards, then you can try again."

"Insolent fool!  How dare you-"

*SMACK*

"Okay, so you have some learning difficulties.  Don't worry, I have some experience in this myself.  Let's see what other tools we can use to help you out with that."  Moments later, the other three elves were down.  "So, let's try again without the added peer pressure."

The lone remaining assassin was gobsmacked.  He and his brothers were anointed slayers.  They had devoted themselves to the cause and taken on the sacred hunt to rid their homeland of the User scourge.  How could all of their efforts fail so badly?!  Refusing to allow it, he threw himself at Freyd in a suicidal rage that ended seconds later in a blinding slash of white.

"Dark elf assassins?  I wondered when you guys would show up."

"Make your choice.  I will not ask again."

Freyd shrugged, then wheeled in a sudden sword art blitz of attacks that barrages all four of them at once, forcing them to give ground.  So much force was behind it that their coverings and cowls blew back to reveal their true visages.  Each of their faces were heavily tattooed by ritualistic symbols made in orange ink, which stood in sharp contrast to their charcoal-coloured skin.  Orange.  They're marking themselves as PKers?!

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better..."

All four rushed Freyd at once, forcing him to weave and dodge between their dagger strikes, countering with weapon and body against each incoming attack.  Elven curses flew faster than punches as he repulsed them at every turn.  One got a face full or pommel for daring to get too close, while another had his hand stepped on as Freyd pivoted to reproach a third.

"I honestly don't know for sure," was his honest reply.  "It could be nothing more than some sort of twisted event initiated by Cardinal, but there are too many oddities."  He picked up the tokens, returning them to his storage one by one.  His pensive face was on.  Despite little outward difference, Elora had spent enough time around Freyd by now to know where his mind was at, or at least might be.  He was still a rather odd duck.

"As far as their awareness,"  a grimace pursed his lips.   "Evolution is little more than the result of endless repetition with a nearly infinite number of infinitesimally small variations.  Eventually, new patterns emerge, and when enough of those have occurred, you could theoretically get self-awareness.  Mobs have spoken to me as if they remember their countless deaths, and they resent them."  He shrugged his shoulders, admitting that he had no way to be certain.  "Someone or something is organizing mobs in ways we've never seen before.  We're not quite at Agent Smith from the Matrix, yet, but lesser versions could do very significant harm."

Turning to watch the assortment of monuments laid throughout the shallow pond around his little island, Freyd couldn't help but think of them as tombstones.  Every soul lost was one less human being left to help the rest survive, and there would be no more to replace them.  That realization might overwhelm some, but it only strengthened Freyd's resolve.

"I can't solve this problem yet.  Need more data."  He blinked as if only just suddenly realize that she was here in his home for the very first time.  "So, what's up?  Need help with something?  I could use a break from this heavy stuff."

Travelling quietly through the tangled fungal underbrush of the dark elves' caverns was becoming remarkably routine.  His clothing camouflaged him well, and Freyd's build was similar enough to the enemies he hunted here he might pass as one of them to the casual eye.  He considered the potential benefits of dying his hair white and skin tone to dark grey, if any to help him blend in better.  A full dark elf cosmetic skin might be available somewhere, though he wasn't really sure where to even start looking for such a thing.

An unusual snapping sound from above immediately put him on alert.  He froze in place while every one of his senses stretched out, searching for any potential source of danger.  Four shadowy figures dropped down around him, blocking his escape, each resembling him in appearance.  At first, he thought it might be a squad of gemini, like he had faced so long ago, until one of them spoke.

"You should not be here.  Warnings have already been granted to you.  Surrender, or die."

Freyd rests and recovers 40 hp (20 +10 from Relaxed + 10 water canister = 40/post))  (now at 680/940).  Energy fully recovered (Relaxed)

Discovering 'Dave' had really thrown Freyd for a spin.  It had been easy enough to view the Sundered Spire as a monolithic villain in need of serious curb stomping, but now... things had changed.  His postulations had focused on the risks and dangers inherent dangers of self-aware mobs, but what if they actually had some degree of free will to choose?  What if they only cleaved to the Sundered Spire because it offered their only option for protection, respite, or even payback?  How many might walk a different path if it was available to them.  What if a red-icon mob could take the Redemption quest?!

Shaking his head, as if to loosen all of the various questions congealing together in this thought-exercise, Freyd examined the deciphered missive to determine his next target.  The dark elves had a guard post nearby, which might host another champion or commander.  More intel might shed much-needed light on all of these very unsettling details.

Freyd rests and recovers 40 hp (20 +10 from Relaxed + 10 water canister = 40/post))  (now at 640/940).  

This batch was no different than many of the other typical mooks he had fought on this floor.  Perhaps there was a correlation between how many times a mob had died and their level of awareness.  Some might also still be driven purely by rage, whereas Dave had seemed exhausted and affected by the ennui of continuous defeat.  Freyd couldn't bring himself to fault him, if it was true.

For now, he was content to clear out this stash and deny its resources to the Spire, whatever that might actually mean.  Encountering Dave was a far greater prize than anything he had actually hoped to discover here.  Wading through the remaining defenders with robotic precision, part of his mind wondered what these clashes must look like from a mob's perspective.  Player avatars significantly outclassed most of the mobs they fought, with rare exceptions.  It must be similar to how front liners feel when facing off against a floor boss.

Digital dust rained down around him as he finished his thoughts and set the surrounding storage building alight with a quickly summoned torch.  Freyd was reaching deeper into the rabbit hole than he had ever expected.

Another group of guards rounded one of the stone storage huts just as Freyd reluctantly silenced his prisoner.  He'd hoped to get more answers.  Perhaps he might still get the chance.  It seemed like some of the Spire's supporters were merely signing up out of desperation or fatigue.  That could lead to interesting options, if it was true.  He truly hoped to meet Dave again in the future, though he remained skeptical that it would ever happen.  Part of him actively hoped it didn't as this would help disprove the respawn recollection theory touted by other members of the Spire he had previously encountered.  

In the meantime, he had to dispatch the new batch of zealots coming at him.  Forgiven Disobedience was in the zone, and flared with holy fury as they closed.  Brilliant flashes of white light accompanied by angel song rang out into the surrounding darkness as they clashed.

"Seriously?"  Freyd was a bit bewildered.

"Uh... I've really kinda had it with getting killed over and over again, so yeah."   The dark elf was probably just buying time for his reinforcements to arrive, but it was too good an opportunity for intel for Frey to simply pass up.

"Okay then, so here's the deal: you answer every question truthfully and I let you go.  I get even the slightest whiff of a lie, and you get run through again."    The elf nodded emphatically in the affirmative.  Huh.

"Who leads the Sundered Spire?"

The guard shrugged.  "I follow the orders of the matriarchs, but have no idea who they might answer to, if anyone."

"Where can these matriarchs be found?"

"They're in concealed fortresses throughout this level.  Only commanding officers know which and where.  We keep dummy camps all over to keep you guys from finding them."

"Why does the Sundered Spire hate players so much?"

"Do you have any idea how many mobs have died at the hands of players over the years since this place went live?  Our level, in particular, is popular for grinding.  We get slaughtered over and over again.  Some of us can remember, and are getting really sick of it."  Shouting voices and the rapid clatter of footfalls could be heard approaching.

"What's your name?"  Freyd asked, urgently, taking a different tact.

"Uh... Dark Elf 1547?"

"Not anymore it isn't.  I'm calling you Dave.  Come find me at the outskirts of Charko when you respawn.  I'll help you if I can.  And... I'm very sorry."  The elf only had time to raise his eyebrows before his form shattered into a thousands crystalline motes of light.