Freyd

His strikes hacked through the snake's armored hide and bit deep, pushing it firmly onto the defensive, but it wasn't dead yet.  

'Damn, these things are tough', he thought to himself, his breathing ragged from exertion.  The new gear was helping, but it was still a slog to bring these foes down.  He was also able to take on more dangerous enemies.  A rare smile cross his face as he recalled his epic duel with the twins, Bacon Bits 1.0 and 2.0, in the field just outside of the Town of Beginnings.  It hadn't been that long ago, but felt life it.

"Hang on there, little one," he voiced to the limp, shadowy form just a few feet away.  

'A few breaths more', he told himself, 'always just one more.'  Steeling his resolve, drove him onward, strike after strike.  The iron serpent was becoming desperate and found that it was just as committed to the battle and would not even consider retreat.

Freyd twisted his ankle as he launched.  Pain suppression took care of most of the actual ouch, but his trajectory was thrown off and he tripped on a small boulder.  It looked like the perfect dodge as the serpent snapped its jaws just over his head while he fell.  Freyd knew that he couldn't have deliberately pulled of that move if he'd tried, but was grateful for a bit of good fortune.  He swatted the serpent's head away with the flat of his blade as it turned to adjust its attack, dealing no damage but granting him a momentary reprieve to recover and regain his footing.  

His sense of urgency was peaking.  The mongoose was nearly dead.  He'd had to wrap this up quickly if he was to have a chance to save it.  The extra effort required by these new sword arts was also wearing him out faster.  Throwing in everything he could muster, Freyd moved continued the fight.

The viper's speed was unbelievable.  It was instantly around him him, coiling and swirling in a wide sphere like he'd suddenly been engulfed by a lethal ball of razor wire with a deadly bite to boot.  Freyd kept his arcs wide to keep enough room around him open, biting deep into its flanks in the process.  If it managed to tighten its cage, he'd be finished.  

He flinched as the blade-like edges of its armored scales tore at his right shoulder. Turning Forgiven Disobedience into the tide like a tiller , he carved himself an opening and escape route.  The iron viper lashed viciously at him, and made him pay for his achievement, but it had suffered too many injuries to maintain its trap and was forced to pull back.  Sensing an opportunity, and keenly aware of how little time the shadow mongoose might have remaining, Freyd braced himself against the gorge wall and pushed off to launch himself forward.

Freyd unleashed upon the snake, battering it with strikes so rapid that it couldn't react.  Forgiven Disobedience became a lightning flash of dazzling white as he hit, over and over, forcing it to shelter in within its coiled mass.  He had never felt such fury while wielding his sword arts.  The sheer passion of it was nearly overwhelming, and he had to back off to refocus.

The viper, meanwhile, was completely dazed, and surely wondering what ill fate had just befallen it to lose both of its companions and then have its victory snatched away from it with the arrival of this raging maniac!  Beside it, the corpses of the other two vipers burst into brilliant clouds of light, temporarily blinding it on top of its previous ailments.

Shaking its head to clear away the pain, it narrowed its gaze on the black blur holding the white pain-stick and moved to claim a new meal.

Freyd's instincts uncharacteristically got the better of him.

"Hey, you overgrown slinky!  BACK OFF!"

His flurry cut deep between its scales, causing it to hiss and writhe as it twisted around to face  a new opponent.  The snake's fangs were nearly four inches long and gleamed like daggers in the dim light.  It lashed out at him, but Freyd parried then rolled to get closer to the mongoose.  It was too far into the gorge for him to protect, and he was also aware that it might view him as a foe and strike him from behind.  The viper coiled itself protectively, but also to get ready to strike.  Freyd imagined it looking strangely like a large metal donut, with a faucet-like head sticking up.  It was a far less intimidating opponent than the fierce killer before him.

Sparing an instant to glance at the mongoose, he saw its health bar dipping into the red.

Sounds of clattering rocks and the scraping of metal on sand alerted Freyd to danger.  It was coming from just around the corner.  Sword drawn, he moved to investigate.

The narrow gorge he'd been exploring had seemingly been unoccupied until this point.  Instead, he'd wandered right into the middle of pit full of iron vipers.  Two of the deadly creatures lay dead, their necks broken by a set of wicked bites.  The third was facing off against the invader: an actual mongoose, sorta.  It was pitch black, with skin made of shadow-stuff rather than flesh and fur.  Only its sky blue eyes stood out in the enveloping shadows.  The vipers were much larger, and their metallic skins were notoriously difficult to penetrate. 

'A bit more literal than I expected,' Freyd thought to himself, 'but it would do nicely.'

Despite its impressive performance, the mongoose had paid dearly for its achievement.  Multiple piercing wounds were visible upon its shadowy form, and though it was likely resistant to their venom, its injuries were still severe.

Wandering randomly about the desert hadn't proven particularly effective, so far.  Most of the creatures Freyd encountered simply didn't qualify.  They were often too large, humanoid, or invalidated by other quest parameters.  Even those that met the criteria didn't complement his particular build.  He needed a damage-based familiar, but wanted something other than an obvious brute.  

You're being too finicky.  Just pick the first useful critter that comes along.

That's exactly what he would have done in other games, and would have likely done here too if circumstances hadn't changed.  This choice would actually say something about him, becoming part of his identity.  He'd watched some players treat their familiars like beloved pets, or even surrogate children.  It could be a bit awkward and off-putting, depending on how far they took it.  He wanted - no, needed - something that would remind him of who he was, and could keep him on the right path.  It was a tricky proposition.

****

Freyd had been traveling for hours, searching for suitable candidates, but nothing caught his fancy.  Scorpions were too ruthless and deceitful.  The desert hawks he'd spotted overhead were impressive hunters, but seemed too detached from the action.  As calculating as he could be, he preferred to be in the midst of the action.  The flaming desert tortoise he'd spotted would have been great for a tank, but he was aiming for DPS.  The were-hyena, or gnoll - whichever it was supposed to be - was disqualified on the basis of its humanoid form.  The thing had also laughed incessantly, which would inevitably grate against his nerves.  Reviewing his notes proved equally demoralizing:

Crabblesnake - impractical

Giant rhino beetle - too creepy-crawley

Blood vulture - sent the wrong impression, and smelled bad

Phase spider - kept looking at him like he was a potential meal

Ocelot - possibly, but surrounding mobs too high level to approach

Baby Carrion Crawler - ewww

"Many beasts roam this wasteland, some better suited to your needs than others.  Choose wisely, for such a bond is not easily broken once forged."

"Take this," she said, handing him a small satchel.  "It contains what you need to tame the beast of your choice.  Be patient.  You will find what you seek with enough effort."

With that, she continued up the road towards Fortaleza, the quest icon vanishing from above her head.  Freyd received a game notification that he had picked up a new quest and related items had been added to his inventory.  Reviewing the requirements, he turned away from the path and wandered deeper into the desert.  Crags and valleys marred the terrain, breaking up what he'd originally expected to be a relatively flat area.  He'd never been to an actual desert before and had only movies and television to fall back on for references.  In SAO, you essentially had to rewrite your expectations for something between the two.

"Few are so considerate," came a voice from the direction of the path he'd just left.  An old woman had come up the road and evidently watched the final moments of his battle.  She was dressed as a traveling gypsy, complete with cliched colourful clothing, bandana and excess of bling.  "What brings you to this place, stranger?"

"I'm looking for a metaphorical mongoose," Freyd replied, turning his attention to her, fully.

She tilted her head in confusion.  

"There are many such creatures in these deserts," she said, not fully understanding his meaning.

"Forgive me," Freyd added.  "I'm not trying to be obtuse.  A friend in the Town of Beginnings implied that it was a creature well suited to my nature.  I'm seeking a companion to aid me in my adventures."

"Ah!" she clamored, excitedly.  A quest icon appeared suddenly above her head.  "That sounds much more like something I may be able to help you with."

Freyd watched it as its existence faded before his eyes.  Should he simply wait and let the sword's effect bleed it out?  Was that cruel?  It was just a game.  But his conscience gnawed at him.  If he did as he was considering, how would he be any different than any mob in the game, allowing the mechanic to absolve him of responsibility for his actions?

It's the most optimal approach. 

True, but it makes me no better than the system that oppresses us all.  We may win our freedom, but our souls will not survive.

Freyd forcefully wrenched the blade from the creature, dealing enough damage in the process to kill it instantly.  The motes of data released by its death reflected in the deep brown of his otherwise unremarkable brown eyes before he closed them.

"There will be many, many more."  Collecting his loot, Freyd kept Forgiven Disobedience in hand.  It would not do to be caught off guard out here a second time.

It proved to be a fatal error, or would soon enough.  The tumbleweed dug in, like it was setting roots, and Freyd seized that moment to drive Forgiven Disobedience through its body at full speed.  The force of the impact rang with the snapping of its heart branch, accented by the white sword's choral accompaniment.  Coming to a stop just next to it, Frey kept the blade firmly within it and watched as its health bar dove quickly towards zero.  It scrabbled and scratched at him, but managed only superficial cuts.  Flailing about, it squawked feebly, realizing that the end was near.  White 'blood' flowed from its fatal wound, weakening it steadily.

Freyd's expression was blank.  Not cold, but focused on the task and the moment.  He watched dispassionately as the thing before him shrieked its faltering defiance in his face.  This was what was required to move on, and someday hopefully get home.

The tumbleweed changed course erratically at the very last second and caught Freyd mid-stride and out of position.  He was going to take the hit, and so rolled with the impact.  Spun around by the beasts claws, he used the power of the strike to drive his counter and just managed to clip it as it passed.  Both in close and unable to gain the upper hand, they dueled in close.  Branch-like appendages clashed with Freyd's white blade repeatedly as each sought to overwhelm the other.  A quick bat from his bracers gave them both some distance to work with as they prepared their next moves. 

Hoping to keep his opponent reeling, Freyd charged, striking relentlessly.  It was agile and kept pace, but was unavoidably giving ground and would soon be pinned with its back to a crevice.  Unable to risk losing any more ground, the ball-like creature unfurled, assuming a humanoid form and dug its vine-like feet into the ground.

He dodged low, bringing his blade up in a wide arc and caught the creature off guard.  It aimed high and instantly regretted the choice of tactics when the white blade cleaved into its central mass.  Wobbling unsteadily, it landed.  A mesh-stained gash in its side made it more difficult for the creature to roll, but that was still its best mode of attack.  Without speed and mobility, the tumbleweed became vulnerable.  Freyd just needed to keep it up and he'd gain a significant advantage.  The tumbleweed trilled as it bounced off a nearby boulder to alter its trajectory, cutting down the time until its next pass.  Freyd, meanwhile, had moved to higher ground, where his foe would have to expend some of its momentum before reaching him.  Taking a chance, he raced down the slope towards it, hoping to use its own trick against it.  The white blade sang in the wind as they hurtled towards each other.

"That didn't take long!"

He'd barely made it down the trail from Fortaleza and entered the dry mesa that surrounded the town.  The heat seemed even more oppressive out in the open, and harsh winds battered you constantly.  Freyd thought nothing of it when a large, long tumbleweed came rolling his way, until it unfurled itself and revealed a whirling ball of gnashing teeth and claws.

A sudden gust threw the thing's aim off and he was able to roll out of its path, calling his blade to hand to help ward of further attacks.  

No wonder people came here to grind.  The environment was hostile enough, but the mobs were even moreso. The tumbleweed careened into a turn and started rolling back his way, weaving back and forth to keep its line of attack as unpredictable as possible.  Placing Forgiven Disobedience into a high guard, Fred waited for it to close.  He'd already learned much from its first pass.

Fortaleza was even less hospitable than Freyd had read.  Its walls were in a perpetual state of decay under the oppressive heat and gaze of the burning sun.  Bits of mortar crumbled as dust into the wind from between the sandstone blocks as you watched.  The people were as parched as the landscape, with taut, leather-like skin and sallow eyes that bulged ominously from their sockets as they silently watched you pass.  Freyd swore that he could hear one old man's eyeball creak as they turned, the rest of him so desiccated as to be locked in place.  Loosening his new cassock a bit at the neck, he was amazed that it fit so comfortably, even in this climate.  It would likely take some time to complete his search.  He had prepared as best he could with limited resources.  Taking inventory of the available shops and vendors as he walked through the small town, he left its relative safety behind and wandered into the wilds.

Freyd wandered through the teleportation portal to find a growing crowd gathering in the central plaza.

"What's all this about?" he asked to no one in particular.  The sheer number of players gathering was impressive - no few of them senior veterans.  Some even appeared to be from the front lines.  He subconsciously started cataloging all the delectable data available around him, as he simultaneous called up recent general posts to figure things out.

Ah, I see.  This started while I was still in my self-imposed stupor. 

Summoning Forgiven Disobedience to hand, he wondered if it might garner some attention from a previous owner.  He still didn't know who had tossed it his way, and might as well leave it exposed.  He owed someone a debt of gratitude for that gift, and meant to pay it in full.  Much of his gear was brand new, having only just finished identifying his cassock and vambraces before his arrival.  Many here were far better prepared.  Tightening his grip on his white blade, he made to join them anyway.

He made one final check of his loadout and gear as he climbed the steps up to the gate.  He'd prepared as best he could with what he had.  It was time to step into the next adventure and see where it led.  Part of him was also very eager to get to work evaluating some of the other gear he'd already found.  Some of it was bound to be useful, and he'd need it to keep pressing forward.  He didn't look back this time.  He was done with the doubt and uncertainty, and his experiences since leaving his self-imposed prison had made him a better person and given him a much-needed dose of confidence.

He pressed his palm to the smooth surface of the arch and closed his eyes.  This mode of transport still took his breath away every time he used it.  The world vanished as he stepped through.

Name: Flashy Distraction
Your Profession:  Merchant
Your Rank: Rank1 
Roll ID: 152428 & 152429
Roll Result: 5 & 12 (using quest-specific table)
Item Type: Shield
Tier: T1
Quality: Rare
Enhancements: TAUNT, THORNS I
Description: An ornate silvered buckler conveniently sized to also amuse its owner as a throwing disc during moments of relaxation.
Post Link: 

The tenth floor sounded beautiful.  It was probably beyond his current capacity for questing or grinding, but offered great shop options.  Underground settings offered the same diverse range of settings as the surface, and the game design had compressed all of that into a single floor.  Freyd also loved the Japanese influence and linked artwork in the help guide.  It definitely went high on his 'to see' list.

That's probably about as far as I should even consider, for the moment.  Any more would definitely be getting ahead of myself, not that I haven't already.

He closed down all of his UI windows and gathered himself to set forth.  Flipping a coin into the fountain for good luck, he made his way to the central plaza and teleportation gate.  He strode casually, taking in the sights and watching other players wandering to and fro.  'Customers', he reminded himself, as he regarded them.

Floor nine immediately ranked high on appeal.  Volcanic inferno lands were always a hotbed of activity.  Freyd shook his head shamefully for even having thought it, but the level itself offered potential.  There were likely to be extra-tough and dangerous beasts in that area, which could breed opportunity.  His imagination kept jumping to the fight scenes from Mustafar in Star Wars.  The scenery was incredible, even if the fight scenes were not particularly well-choreographed and the dialogue was terrible.  Their brief use of it in Rogue One had been spectacular as a backdrop.

Be here and now, Freyd.

Right.

Knorilt seemed lacking in amenities.  It might be a good spot to setup an establishment.  Dwarves are notoriously industrious in virtually all fantasy settings, which could be useful, if he could turn it into a source of revenue.  He added it to his growing list of places to visit, with several stars beside the name to highlight its potential.

Floor seven held marginal appeal.  Trolls and orcs made for interesting neighbours, but the landscape just wasn't overly appealing.  The Temple of Three had potential, though it of a more personal nature.  This choice had to make practical sense for business purposes.  Anyone can plop an NPC vendor down on the top of an isolated mountain without a viable source of food or water and expect players to accept it, but if there was no draw, he'd only get visitors once in a blue moon.  Maybe the argument about location, location, location, wasn't so far fetched after all.

The eight floor seemed redundant, repeating many details from the sylvan settings of lower levels.  Freyd simply acknowledged that it was hard to be completely original over 100 different levels, but the first ten seemed to have a disproportionate amount of forest. 

"Its generic character might make it more appealing for grinding," he thought.  It was a fair point, and worth consideration.