Freyd

A sullen, empty smile lined Freyd's face with weariness as he heard Kyoto repeat an all-too-familiar story. "I've heard a similar story from more players than I could have ever imagined," he added with regret. "We so many people miserable in our other world? Is that why people were so eager to enter this one, only to fall into Kayaba's trap?" Sighing at the lines of thinking that inevitably followed. "Whatever you do, Kyot0, don't let it get you down, okay? That's more important than you can possibly imagine - the need to feel like you have purpose and belonging. We're all going t

Banter and pleasantries were freely exchanged as the trio made their way from the bar to the fiery pits of hell that served as Cerberus' personal kennel. Pools of molten flame provided the pulsing, red ambience where light was otherwise snuffed by the plumes of thick smoke rising from all points to blot out the sun and keep its cheerful rays firmly off the unhallowed ground. Morningstar and Zandra swapped tales with each other most of the way along while he did his scouting thing, chiming in on occasion to confirm that he was indeed listening. "...but who really knows why he wore the dr

"Settled?" Something in Nari's tone didn't sound right, which should have been especially off for a performer. "Wait a sec... this wouldn't have anything to do with a certain black-haired swordwoman we both know who chucks debuff crystals around like they are going out of style?" He knew that his armored companion would know who he meant. Enough dots had been dropped to connect a potential pattern, the first few links of which had formed during their chat near Ellesmora. Would she have taken on an entire profession in order to please a friend? Freyd knew the answer before the thought had

Not quite ready to let Abdullah realize he still lived, but also unwilling to spoil Ciela's maximum moxy moment, Freyd chose to play coy and follow along with a minor unanticipated twist. By the time the beaded curtain plied its way over them, the Whisper's appearance had been completely transformed. No longer the spoopy, brooding figure most commonly familiar among the residents of Fortaleza, Ciela now dragged behind her an elegant courtesan in a loosely fitted black kimono. Sporting barely coifed indigo hair and hauntingly pale blue eyes over the most demure of smiles, it was an appearanc

"Not sure that I'd call it manners when people queue to kill you just because there isn't enough space for them to all try at the same time!" Bending backwards to a seemingly impossible angle, Freyd dodged a few deft and ambitious strikes while they scrambled to get away from the gaggle of goons that was already closing in. "Calas, you harlot, selling your soul for a bit of col. Why not just butter yourself up and bend over for a fat, hairy fu--- URK" Yanking on the dockmaster's collar to keep him from getting skewered, Freyd tossed him down the dock in the hopes of fending off the

Racing towards the beast from its left flank, Freyd planted one foot hard into the slippery sand. Creating a fulcrum, he pivoted up and over the beast's head launched by his own momentum. Sparing only a moment to snare it by the jowls of its giant toothy maw, he used his own momentum to yank as hard as he possibly could. The point was to flip and fling the thing over his head and let it smear itself all over the sands. But, fate being what it is, his handwraps screeched as their bindings loosened enough to let loose the void contained within. Instead of snaring the creature, Freyd's hands

"Don't sell yourself short, Morningstar - you're absolutely smokin'. Nari's completing killing it with the whole Death thing. Meanwhile, Kat... well, let's just say that Famine is also leaving us parched?" He was grinning with every word, but his cowl's extension had swallowed the entirety of what little was normally showing of his face. Watching Nari and Star wade into the first wave of blighted minions, Freyd followed in soon after and leaving Katoka to mop up from range. Unlike his predecessor, Freyd was never one for the frenzied rage of the warmonger, his feasting focusing inst

Noting the descriptions and saving them to his mental roster, Freyd nodded as Xlear outlined some of their notable traits. "So, fairly typical guys, by the sounds of it. I'll let some friends know to keep an eye out for them. Hopefully, we'll have you all back together soon enough." As Xlear set himself about the task of gathering whatever he could for Zackariah, Freyd found himself a familiar spot next to a nearby bubbling brook and pulled out the gaudiest looking fishing rod, complete with green-headed mallard grip. It looked like it had just fallen out of the 1950s and would probably d

Something about Xclear's story still didn't add up in the back of Freyd's mind, and he was starting to get concerned that the man's companions might have fallen prey to misfortune. The cloak and dagger guy was potentially worrisome, but given his own appearance he was hardly in a position to judge. "What are their names, again? You mentioned Genma and Haruto. Were there any others? I have some pretty mad tracking skills and might be able to confirm their whereabouts. In the meantime, why not just get this task done and put a little more EXP under your belt? It can only help you help

"Just keep focused," Freyd offered to Ciela. "As much as we like to blame ourselves for poor results, the outcomes of our choices are subject to the rules of the system. Chance and preparations are both real factors. Don't contort yourself trying to kick your own backside. Just accept it and move on to the next decision. Otherwise, you become the obstacle to your own success." Blinking twice, Freyd realized how much he sounded like some sort of animated fortune cookie and turned to rush into the fray. Despite Ciela having missed, her movements encircled the mob and improved their overal

Still eyeing the gator suspiciously, Freyd still found it unfathomable that every desert scene in every online game somehow felt the need to reference Texan/American cowboy culture in some way, this time adding a bonus touch of Florida man for giggles. That immediately led to the image of Bedouins with Stetsons on their heads materializing in his mind and the entire thought exercise was instantly flushed as utterly ridiculous and wrong. Best to just accept the oddity and move on. "You're not gonna drink that are you," he asked Star, deadpan, glaring at the bottled golden shower with di

"There's always the baby shark training program," Freyd replied with a chuckle. "Actually, it might be a good fit in this case. I usually avoid it since most people that I bring along on this thing are so low level, but Ciela already has some meat on her bones." Glancing back at his companions and realizing that they would have no idea what he meant, begged for the provision of additional details. "Err... field boss? Every floor... okay, more like 'most floors' have a commonly respawning field boss. They spawn out in the wilds and often drop unique consumables. Some are useful, others l

Freyd loved the ninth floor, but post-apocalyptic landscapes were kind of his thing. Sure, he might have setup his shop on thirteen on the expectation that the zombie-infested devastation would actually keep people away, but it was also part pf the charm. Nine was famous, in his books, for adding smoky flavour to any meals crafted within its bounds, and he occasionally popped by Yōgan Village to check out the barbeque stands in case there were any special deals on. Wandering by the mission board, he spotted Morningstar's request and couldn't help laughing aloud. "What the heck is a

"People are weird," Freyd added, shrugging his shoulders. "Without knowing more about your friends, it's tough to offer any kind of meaningful opinion. What was your relationship with them? Did you know them outside the game or meet them in here? Everyone has had to find a way to deal with the trauma of being trapped in here." He paused, suddenly, as if the obvious had just slapped him upside the head. "Have you tried messaging them and just asking them where they are? If they are your friends, shouldn't they want to hook back up and help you catch up with the rest of them?" It had

This was a test, in Freyd's mind. Would the mob get the better of him a second time, or would he maneuver into better results. Some would argue that repetition with expectation of difference was a definition for madness. Perhaps. He chose, instead, to treat it as an exemplar of hope. Few ever saw his actions for what they were, which was fine. Randomness served him for many purposes, most of them quite deliberate, but it was often more convenient to let people simply think him odd and to play the fool. And so it was that Freyd stood completely still, choosing to test a theory as he

Resigning himself to the unfamiliar role of obedient bloodhount, Freyd focused solely on the task at hand: leading them to Alvion to do whatever was going to need doing next. Standing silently aside as Vigilon and Krysta bantered, he simply led the way only to once again encounter Alvion and his Cinnabon Menace (tm). Watching the two bumbling knights unleash another pair of elementals, Freyd smiled slightly as he pictured the whole lot having giant twirled mustachios. Outrageously ornate top hats worn on top of their helmets might also have worked. Watching Morningstar spring into ac

"Well then," he added, smiling as Ciela blushed a little at not yet having opened her shop. "Please be sure to let me know when you have. I'll be glad to support a new business. In the meantime, I'll be sure to let Freya know that you like her cooking." Watching Wulfrin wander over to Abdullah's abode, Freyd tugged down his cowl a little tighter, preferring to keep himself concealed a while longer. "Abdullah's a mob boss, in every sense of the word. He's a jerk, a killer, and also quite accustomed to sending NPC minions to do his bidding. Simply put: he's a threat. I prod him

"Solaris? Good name." Craning his neck to an awkward angle, he glanced again upon the bird as if assessing its potential. Freyd spent more time appraising people and their regalia these days, than actual equipment. The man's hawkish eyebrows arched, then furrowed, at Wulfrin's mention of Abdullah's goons. "That's... interesting. Never a good thing when a forever respawning mob starts sending his equally re-spawnable thugs after you." Pressing two gloved fingertips to his lips, he seemed to be pondering possible options, before abruptly changing course in their conversation to focus on t

"Too well," Freyd replied with regret, addressing Sora's last statement first. "Persi's people can be found in the deep desert on this floor, though they are very reclusive. It took quite a bit of persistence to find her." Emphasis was clear, suggesting that he name might have been inspired by the same word. "Familars can be found just about anywhere. It depends on what you want. If you're looking for a stoat, search the biomes where you might expect to find them in the real world, but consider any more fantastic elements that pique your interest. An elemental stoat, for example, might

"We found ourselves a perfect little valley carved out of the bedrock by some waterfalls on the outskirts of the High Fields of Crossing." The others would never know it, but it took a lot for him to disclose even that limited amount of information. Naturally cautious, Freyd's past behaviour bordered on the paranoid, though mostly about Cardinal's perceived vendetta against him. It had kept him hidden away for years in the Town of Beginnings, chatting only with Marv and a limited selection of players, doing little more than skulking among other shadows lost in back alleys. Beyond that, his

"Yeah, sometimes nodding is all it takes for pickup the quest, though there is often also a pop-up with 'yes' and 'no' options." It was a little surprising that Xclear hadn't seen it yet, but the prompts could occasionally be laggy. Dorian himself moved on, scurrying away from Freyd, wide eyed and sweating profusely as he struggled against his own girth, clearly unaccustomed to the exertion. "Sorry. I've been through this quite a few times, and you start to notice patterns in the actions of certain NPCs over so many repetitions. I used to believe that Dorian was an innocent, if slig

Wandering back to the flaming nightmare that had been left behind in the wake of War's utter embarrassment, Freyd found it to have simmered down to a more manageable midnight coal. Its eyes were still red, watching him with curiosity even as it chewed upon the last vestiges of its previous rider's fractured fractal form. Bits of orange dust disintegrated as they fell from its scorched and blackened maw. "Spoils of War, eh? How'd those taste?" A snuffling neigh and sneeze were his reply. "That bad? Maybe too much hot sauce. Why don't we rebrand a bit and give this job a touch of Whis

*cough* "The lady may want to relax a bit, before she ruptures something. That level of rigid can't be good for your digestion." Stepping out of a darkened area just inside the doorway through which both had entered, Freyd emerged into the lit centre of the room where light drifted through an oculus in the roof. It wasn't exactly like this floor saw a lot of rain. Black on black casualwear struck a stark contrast to the more practical desert attire worn by all the locals. Little more than cargo pants matched with a hoodie, Freyd's appearance was notably unremarkable, which was precis

"Hrm. Fickle fortunes of fate, huh? Yeah. That's way more common than most of us would like. Well, if we can get you through the first few lessons, maybe you can close the gap and rejoin them?" Pointing ahead at the sleepy rural hamlet on a shallow rise, white smoke drifted slowly from a series of hearths and shops. Even at this distance, there was a certain wafting scent of fresh bread in the air, sullied slightly by the odour of the various boars roaming randomly in the surrounding fields. They stayed clear of the roads, and weren't naturally aggressive. Freyd steered them clear,

Persi rounded the nearest street corner while devouring the last of her pilfered snack, ensuring that no evidence remained of her shenanigans. Half-expecting an angry merchant to be chasing after her, Freyd was pleasantly surprised to find a pair of youngish looking players instead. "What have you found there, Persi? A pair of wayward souls in Fortaleza? They'll fit right in," he added with a charming and sympathetic grin. Dressed in a more dusty version of his normal if spoopy attire, he'd allowed himself to go a bit local over time. Visits here had become a staple, of sorts, fulfil