Freyd

Floor five had potential.  He'd heard that it was favoured for low level grinding, which would be the right type of customer based to help him setup his business and train his skills.  He'd likely have to get into the grind himself to obtain items for junking or evaluation.  He laughed out loud at the idea that he'd soon be contributing to Billy's trash - but that had been the point, hadn't it?  What a weird world.

He flipped through the game notes on floor six, where he'd encountered the Gemini.  He hadn't known its name, at the time.  He'd spent hours reading and researching the various quest notes that were available after that incident.   It was that very habit that had compelled him to buy and use an immolation potion in preparation - an excellent tip, and good investment.  How much lore must the front line players have collected by now?  And, they must use it automatically, as if it had become reflex.

Freyd wandered back to his seat at the fountain and considered his options.  He held his new buckler in his hands flipping it over and over, fidgeting with it as he pondered where to setup shop.

"Where would a mongoose live," he asked himself jokingly.  

Leaning forward, he clasped the silver frisbee with both hands and tapped it against his chin.

"No," he thought better, "where would it set up shop, and how?"  He hadn't seen nearly enough of Aincrad to answer that question, but searching for a familiar wasn't a bad first step.  The first three floors were safe, but too passive.  Floor four was too cold for his liking, though he'd had the good fortune to meet Yuki there.  Freyd smiled wistfully at his folly, wandering to the upper levels without the slightest clue what he might be facing.  It could easily have gotten him killed, but turned out far better than expected.

"Snakes are among the stealthiest, deadliest animals one can find," Billy replied, his speech low and thoughtful.  "From the lowliest critters to mighty, mythical serpents, they have always captured the imagination and instilled fear in their prey."  

"You," Billy said frankly, "are not a snake."

Freyd looked unimpressed.

"But," he continued, raising one finger to help make his point, "there is another often-overlooked creature that rivals the serpent in its cunning: the mongoose!"

Freyd still looked unimpressed.

"Stay with me here," Billy pleaded.  "The mongoose doesn't overpower the serpent, it outsmarts it.  They wear their opponent down with guile and trick it into relying on perceived strength where there is actual weakness.  The mongoose is immune to venom."

He tapped his temple for emphasis.

"That is you, my friend.  Carefully apply that grey matter, and you'll do alright."

Previous snark aside, it was a nice compliment.

"Okay," Freyd said, nodding at Billy's words.  "I'll consider that."

A giant grin crept across his face.  Freyd checked his storage, but found no Essence.  Confused, he called up the quest description.

Last Hit Item: <<Essence of Steel>> [Unique Item]*: Use to enhance one weapon, armor, or accessory and increase its rarity by one level. [ex. An Uncommon Weapon becomes a Rare Weapon]. Only one Essence of Steel is dropped in a thread.

"Ah, I see.  It's a last hit item.  No worries.  I can always come back and try my luck again.  Still, that was thrilling!   You were so amazing!  Wow... I..."  He caught his breath and put his weapon away and calmed himself a bit.  He gave her a small but sincere bow, holding the pose as he spoke:

"Thanks Yuki, for offering to help me.  I have a long way to go, but I plan to work hard to get better.  You've opened my eyes to what is possible, and that's more valuable than any item.  I'm extremely grateful."

"I'm looking for a damage-type familiar,"  Freyd continued, "that could help increase my damage output.  I found a rather amazing weapon - or it found me - but I need to boost its output on noncritical hits."

"Go check out the local Pokemon gym,"  Billy said, mocking and dismissively.  "I only work in sales."

"Then sell me some info,"  Freyd quipped back.

That got his attention.

"You're better at this than I gave you credit for when I spotted you at the fountain, you know that?"  It was the closest thing Billy had said to a sincere compliment.  He'd take it.

"Thanks.  Now, about that info?"  Freyd wasn't the type to be easily distracted, once his mind was set on an objective.

Billy scratched at his hairless chin while he gave it some thought.  He stared at Freyd intently, like he was evaluating him as a player, like he would one of his items.

Freyd gained speed as he reached the top of the outcropping, breaking into a full out run and leaping off a small cliff edge onto the creature's back.  His sword found purchase in a  chink beneath the creature's icy shell, just behind the collar bone.  Freyd followed through with his momentum and slid down the creature's back just as it swatted at the point of impact.

That's better.

He raced clear, raising a small trail of loose powder with the fast pace of his footfalls.  They barely left an imprint on the snowy ground, so quickly was he moving.  Lining himself up for another charge, he paused and watched for the next opening.  His pulse was beating in his ears and his breath puffed small white clouds into the chill air, but both were steady.  He pumped his sword arm a few times while waiting, working out some the stiffness after that last hit.  Whacking a giant hunk of angry ice with a thin metal stick was a bit rough on the joints.

"Energy,"  Billy said plainly.  "Not an unhelpful ability, especially at lower levels.  It's certainly better than what you have on now."

How does one program sass?  It was an annoyingly impressive achievement, masterfully executed in this NPC.  Freyd had been impressed with Billy's responses since their first meeting.  He actually liked the... kid?  It didn't really matter.  It's responses were engaging and provocative, and were well designed.  Someone must have a put a lot of care into it.

"So that's it.  The contract is nearly complete, you just need to pick your poison."  Billy waved at the three items they had just been discussing.

"I'll take the buckler," Freyd said, favouring the items dual properties.  

"Of course you will," Billy sighed, disappointed by the predictable response.  "It's all yours.  Try not to let it end up back here too quickly."

"Thanks," Freyd answered. I also had a question on a separate matter.

Freyd paused for a moment, then reconsidered his strategy.  His sword wasn't really meant for this, but SAO would just consider the math.  Heading over the same tree that had just dumped snow all over him, he hacked away at the point where Frost Beast's passage had damaged the trunk.  It was barely upright after snapping back, and the beast was just about in the right spot.

Grabbing the blade with both hands, he put as much power behind it as he could manage.  The damaged wood fibers gave way and soon the entire tree creaked back before it fell forward onto the ice golem's back, momentarily throwing it off balance.  Hopefully, it would be enough to give Yuki the opportunity she needed to cripple it, or at least, bring down its mobility.

Freyd, meanwhile, checked his blade to make sure he hadn't dulled it too badly, and started clambering up a nearby rock outcropping for a better angle of attack.

Freyd summoned the ornate silver bracers and gently placed it on the stacked crates they were using as a work bench.

"That's a bit better,"  Billy exclaimed.  He poked at some of the engravings on the outer face, nodding and mumbling as he turned the piece over and over again.  "See these markings, here and here?  This item's intended for tanking."  He looked Freyd over, as if assessing him.  "It won't be a good fit for you, but I'll be glad to take it off your hands."  

Freyd, for his part, nodded and focused on the lesson at hand.  This was going to take substantial trial and error, but he was looking forward to it.

"What about this?" 

He pulled out the Roman-looking breastplate.  The battle skirt looked very strange to him, but it might have been more practical in a warmer climate.  He just couldn't see himself ever wearing  it.  It wasn't his style, at all.

The monster's sudden burst of speed threw Freyd's next swing off target.  It had also scraped up against a nearby snow-covered pine.  The tree sprung back upright when the Frost Beast reached out to pound at Yuki.  A huge dump of snow came raining down behind it and swamped Freyd beneath it.  He flailed helplessly for a moment before getting purchase on a nearby sappling and pulling himself free of the frosty prison.  He shivered uncontrollably as a few bits of ice slid down the back of his tunic.  Falling onto his back and squirming like some wriggling worm, he tried to melt it faster.  

*Groan*

He hoped that Yuki hadn't seen that.  Regaining his footing, he dusted off his clothes and cleared his face so that he could see again.  Shivering one last time, he felt a line of melting water dripping down from his soaking hair, passing between his eyes to the tip of his nose.  Tightening his grip on his weapon, he raced back into the fray.

"Alright, Billy," Freyd called out, emerging from behind the tapestry and wiping off all the gunk that had accumulated on his clothes, "I found what you were looking for.  Let's get to it."

"That was quick," came the reply.  Billy had busied himself repairing the portions of the shop he'd accidentally knocked over.  "Let's see what you found."

The first items was nearly as tall as he was.

"A Kite shield?  I haven't seen one of these in a while.  It's well-worn too.  See these markings here?"  Billy proceeded to recount various tells that could be used to determine what properties an item possessed.

"See here?" he pointed to a lattice of rivets on the shield's outer face.  "It's common on items favoured by tanks - Taunt enhancement.  I'm guess its previous owner caught more attention than he or she had intended."  Having completed his less, he tossed the item aside and motioned for the next.  "Got anything better that this?"

Something rumbled around the corner, shaking the entire area.  One of the debris piles must have collapsed.  Some of them were dozens of feet high.  It wouldn't do to linger out here any longer than was necessary.  A few other piles shook precariously, as if waiting for an aftershock to topple them.  Freyd stood perfectly still until the entire area settled again.

Just need one more...

The small quake had jostled some of the surrounding mounds and brought new items to the surface.  A shirt of fine chainmail caught his attention, until he turned it over and found that the back had been dissolved by something - possibly acid or dragonfire.  Hopefully, the occupant had survived.  Freyd placed it aside, gently, out of a sense of respect, as if it were akin to an urn full of ashes.

Another outfit rested a short distance up the slope.  It looked mostly intact.  Made of dyed green leather, its style reminded him of Lorica Segmentata, the armor worn by Roman legionnaires.  It was a bit of an odd find, but met his needs.

Storing the first item away, Freyd carefully moved some of the other debris around, trying not to accidentally trigger a trash avalanche in the process.  It was careful work.  Players had been picking this place over for some time, and newly arrived junk either seemed to fall randomly or be unceremoniously thrown among the rest.  Other than the smell, the place wasn't all that unpleasant.  There were even some rather beautiful pieces strewn around, though all of them had long since been broken down.  It was part of what made finding something in here more difficult.  The flashy pieces kept drawing the eye, where the useful stuff was often understated.

Carefully moving aside a number of broken weapons, most of their edges still sharp, Frey found an ornate silver buckler.  It seemed more decorative than useful, but it remained unidentified, which was all he cared about, for the purposes of this exercise.

"Take it or leave it.  I have a host of other options available."  Freyd leaned backwards, back towards the central market, as if looking for other profession trainers.

"Fine!  The place is practically picked clean anyway."  He grumbled as he gestured and a pop-up appeared in front of Freyd.

*Quest Accepted*

"Pleasure doing business with you, Billy.  I look forward to a mutually-profitable exchange."

He strode casually into the junk yard, mentally evaluating each of the available piles for potential.  Finding one that seemed promising, he tried his luck.  Beneath countless broken fragments and components, he found a kite shield that still seemed serviceable.  Whatever crest may have once adorned its exterior had long since faded or been worn away.  It wasn't the sort of thing he would use, but he only cared about whether it could serve his immediate needs.

No ID tag.  That'll work.  Let's see what else has been dumped around here.

"You find and bring me three items," Billy rhymed off quickly, "I teach you how to identify them.  You keep one, and I get the other two.  Deal?"

Freyd's eyes narrowed.

"You can't actually go in there yourself, can you?"

Billy was silent, his mouth gaping.

"I keep two items," Freyd continued.

The kid grinned, appreciating the attempt at turning things around.

"Look, I appreciate that you tried, but I'm bound by my own contract and you're also getting the skill as part of the deal."

"Then give me the passcode."

"What?!" Billy's mouth was once again agape.  "How did you even-"

"I do my research."  Freyd's smile had faded.  This was now all about business.  "How much traffic do you still see here, compared to when the game started?  I'm guessing that it's a fraction of what it's nothing by comparison to those early days.  If you want my help, then accept my terms."

"When did you become the quest-giver!?" Billy replied.

"You need to go in there," Billy said, pointing into the seemingly endless mounds of trash, "and find us three pieces to identify."

"What is this place?"  Freyd instantly regretted that the pain dampening mechanic didn't affect smells.

"It's where items go when players junk them.  Every once in a while, lazy players with poor organizational skills throw out unidentified loot along with the stuff they don't want.  It ends up here, in my own, personal gold mine!!!"  

Freyd could have sworn that Billy's image flickered for a moment, revealing reddish skin, small horns, and a flickering flames in lieu of hair.  A touch of brimstone lingered in the air.  He looked back at the kid, askance. 

"Yeah... okay.  Name the terms before I go anywhere."

"You must bring me three items, and the count of the items shall be three!"

"I think I've heard this somewh-"

"Not four, or two, unless moving on to three..."

"Yeah, I get it..."

"How unfortunate," Freyd said, dead-pan, as he struggled to conceal his smile.  "How could I possibly help?"

"Funny you should mention that," Billy replied without missing a beat.  His false surprise and desperation having vanished instantaneously.

"I need to you go get me some more unidentified item, so that I can to you how to, ...uh, identify them."  Not the greatest wordsmith, but his zeal was infectious.

"I happen to have a few-"

"NO!"  the boy interrupted, "They have to be... uh... special, from a unique location!"  He gesticulated wildly, as if it somehow made him more convincing.

Uh-huh.  Sure they do.  Freyd managed to keep a straight face.

"Gotcha," Freyd replied.  "And where would that be?"

"Through here," Billy beamed, pulling back the heavy tapestry that formed the back of his shop.  Freyd had thought it has been put up by one of the neighbours to dry.  Behind it was a massive trash heap.

"If you really want to learn how to be a Merchant," Billy started, "you have to be crafty and smart.  I managed all of this because I'm smart and know where to find great bargains!" 

Freyd couldn't hide his amusement and allowed his smile to show.

"Profit, my friend, is what it's all about!"

"I was always told it was supposed to be about location."

"NONSENSE!!!"  Billy's agitated hand-waving caused half his stall to collapse.  He carried on without missing a beat, using one foot to push the more hazardous bits out of the way.

"You best know what you are doing. I'll show you how to identify an it- NOOOooooo! I can't be all out!?"  

Freyd poorly feigned his surprise, wondering if Billy had ever actually managed to pick up any stock.  This quest might also be nothing more than a scam for Billy the Kid to build stock using eager, noobish players, but he doubted that the system was that aware.

"Hey you wanna learn how to cheat the sy- I mean make good sales?"  

The NPC was a teenaged boy, by the looks of him.  His appearance was so sudden that Freyd looked around for a quest-giving icon he might have accidentally triggered. 

If there was a profession with a trainer who was always looking for opportunities, he thought, this would be the one.

"Follow me," the kid said, wandering deeper into the market.  His wry grin and twinkling eye set Freyd on edge, after his recent experiences, but he followed warily.  

Their destination could only loosely be described as a shop.  In actuality, it was little more than a handful of wood planks, stacks of half-broken crates and someone's soiled shirt with the words 'Billy's Importi-um' written across it.  The whole thing was held together with bits of twine and rope, and any other discarded fasteners the kid had managed to re-purpose.  It was also only about five feet high, forcing Freyd to crawl in on his hands and knees.

Freyd nabbed one of each potion (Dragon's Breath [151953], Liquor of Light [150849] and Divinity's Wait [151850]).  He glanced at the salves, as well, but felt like it would be inappropriate to take any more.

He scribbled a quick comment note and posted it on the counter:

Thank you for your generosity!  Cheers. -Freyd.

Freyd sat quietly on the steps of a small fountain in the market quarter of the Town of Beginnings.  To anyone else, he appeared to be staring at empty space, but his UI had a dozen different screens open as he compared and cross-tabulated different option.  He'd been there most of the morning.  A cup of cold tea sat at his side, mostly untouched, peaking the interest of several nearby pigeons who were daring each other to be the first to approach.  Local merchants had arrived early to setup or open their stalls and most of the regular morning shoppers had already made their rounds.  The day had reached that quiet lull, just before lunch, when those who hadn't yet made their morning runs realized that their inventories sat empty.  Even in a digital world, some habits never changed.

Freyd had spent all morning debating which profession to explore, weighing pros and cons, checking public notices about material stocks and drop rates, and also taking tally of the ratio of different shops around the district.  He was just compiling the results of his analysis when the realization struck him.  If he'd gone to this extent and trouble to work out the margins, he should really just be a merchant.

Freyd arrived at Lyle's smithy a few minutes later.

"I have a care package for you, Master Blacksmith," he said, "courtesy of Alchemist Zackariah.  I hope it suits your needs."  He still felt winded and leaned against one of the soot-covered, heavy timber columns supporting the shelter's roof.  A pair of small robins scattered from their nest, above, as he did so.

"Excellent," bellowed the smith over the rhythmic fall of his hammer as it worked some indeterminate, red-hot piece of steel on the anvil before him.  He picked up the piece with a pair of heavy black tongs, his thick, salt and pepper mustache rustling its approval.

"If you're good enough to work for the alchemist, maybe you'd consider doing me a favour as well?"

Freyd genuinely smiled.  

"I suppose that depends on the terms," he said. There would be no opportunity to haggle, but that didn't really bother him anymore.  It was time he let himself slip into character, now that he had a better idea who he was.

"What are you offering?"

Realizing its end was near, the doomed creature pushed itself forward, impaling itself further on the blade.  Its fetid breath flowed across Freyd's unflinching face as it tried desparately to strike him one last time and failed.  It burst into luminous shard and vanished an instant later. 

Freyd slumped forward, leaning heavily against his blade for support.  That had been an exhausting slog.  After a few moments, he turned to look at the boy he'd saved.  Wyran, his nameplate said.  

"Tha..." the kid took a moment to un-swallow his tongue, "Thank you!"  His face was still as white as Forgiven Disobedience, but he wasn't dead.  Not this time, at least.

"You're welcome, kid."  A small smile curled the edge of Freyd's lips. 

"Thank you for coming to my rescue."  He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.  "You were very brave."

Wyran smiled, a bit of colour restored.  He nodded, then raced away, back in the direction whence he'd come.

"MINE!!!"  it screeched again, this time meaning the boy.

Freyd's features darkened, letting a bit of that cold side peer through, but marshaled for better intent.

"Never."

The white blade pierced the thing's chest clean through, bursting out from its back and splattering ivory gore on the alley walls.  Some of it sprayed on the collected children's skulls - the twisted things trophies.  It continued to writhe and wail, scratching and biting at him in despair.  Freyd's eyes merely watched its health bar deplete, bit by bit.  He wasn't savouring it.  This felt more like balancing the scales, even if only infinitesimally.  He held his sword firm.  Twisting it would only prove him a sadist.  The deed was done.  It was just a matter of time.

Behind him, his ward's eyes were like saucers and his face blanched at the horrific scene, and notion of the fate it had just avoided dawned over it.  

The boy screamed as the Lure emerged from the shadows.  Freyd couldn't quite get a good angle on the attack and had to throw himself in the way, taking the hit on his shoulder to spare the poor kid from pain.  The Lure howled at being denied its favorite meal.

His colder half suggested using the boy as a distraction and making a break for it.  It was just an NPC, after all, and had likely died a thousand thousand deaths in this scenario since the dawn of the game.  What would it matter if it did again?  This was a useful opportunity.  Why waste it?

"No," he answered his own dark impulses.  What would it mean for his own soul if he was willing to take that approach?  What shredded remnant of his humanity would emerge, even if he did survive this world?  It wasn't worth it.  It could never be.