Freyd

Ambling through Snowfrost with his special precious prize tucked neatly under his arm, a certainly lanky Whisper looked drastically out of character with every inch of garment on his body shifted from his usual dark to light. It was only practical. Freyd's usual garb worked wonders for him in the shadows, but stuck out like a sore thumb in the landscapes of floor four. It was nothing a little application of certain art couldn't fix, though it still felt really weird. Spotting the advert set out in front of an unfamiliar local social hot spot, the appraiser in him found it hard to turn

"Big slap. Right. No pressure." Owij'Be rounded a nearby oak, frost trailing behind its antlers like contrails as it bore straight towards him. Various afflictions inflicted upon it added their various shades to the mix, to the point where the guardian nearly looked to some sort of streaking mutant MLP reject with rainbows coming out of its ass. Memories came flooding back of Saint Gertrude's daycare, where his mother had regularly deposited him during her internship, abandoning him to the subtle tortures of endlessly looping episodes meant to placate the toddlers in the next room. Ho

Nodding his acceptance and agreement at Lium's suggestion, Freyd's gaze remained locked on Sam. Neutral and unreadable, his face remained numb mainly because he really wasn't sure what he should be feeling. All of this was outside his experience. Though he'd worked with Sam for some time, it was painfully obvious that he didn't really know her very well personally. Those details had never been part of his considerations - an oversight to be corrected in due time. Too often, his perspective had been constrained to the ruthless calculus of spycraft: what was useful, practical and required to

"I... uh... sorry? You can have the next one." Pausing to survey the last drifting remains of their very temporary foe, Freyd scratched at the back of his cowl while stretching out his arms. Sure, Freyd, go all Canadian on him and apologize for doing the right thing. "Wasn't actually trying to hit him that hard, but given the pot shot he took at my head, I can't say that I really regret it." Turning to their escort, the dark clad warrior took on a much more clinical, nigh-inquisitorial mien. "What's the deal, Larbrook? I get it when I show up randomly trying to play throug

Having picked up the quest from Abdullah, Freyd had relied on a favoured disguise to keep from having to interact with the mob as himself. They had a complicated relationship, where Freyd had repeatedly taunted the NPC to test whether he could provoke a more complex response based on memories of past interactions. Gathered around him were the latest batch of candidates gathered for the sharkbait training program. All were known allies and acquaintances, this time around, and brought together with a more deliberate purpose. Relying on Firm Anima's agents wasn't always ideal. A mix of allie

"If there's one thing you can count on in here, it's that no two NPCs truly operate alike. Which is really weird, when you think about it. Don't they operate off the same base code? Shouldn't they be generic, robotic mimicry machines? Bugs in the machine. Random bits of code. Call it what you will. One downside to Kayaba's grand plan is that he can't actually afford a reboot without losing all of his captives. Who knows how long the servers have been running by now? And given the AI in the background, who knows what quirks could develop?" Freyd strode with purpose through the main

"FORE!" Barely an instant passed before giant, hairy beast man in a tartan skirt and beret came screaming around the corner wielding some sort of mutant shillelagh, hefting it in a mighty swing against a spherical stone about the size of Freyd's head. Said ball missed said head by about three inches, embedding itself into the adjacent wall with a giant explosion of pulverized stone leaving an imprint to match all of the others they'd just seen. "What the... speed golf meets murder ball?! WTF?!" Unwilling to entertain whatever sick game the minotaurs were up to, the entire scene

"You done this one before, Euled? It's actually been a while since I ran through here. It might even predate my time in my current guild." Freyd eyed the other player's gear while extending a formal party invitation and sharing the quest. He spent as much time appraising people as he did items, it seemed. In this case, the latter confirmed that Euled was still in the starting ranges. One could never be too careful, after all. A place like this might make a tempting location for a player killer ambush. Rounding turn between high stone walls, Larbrook came to a jarring halt, his eye

The shorter, strangely dressed man turned, looking like he was about to say something, but stopped. "Yes." A grin spread beneath his darkened glasses. "Yes we are!" Turning back to the larger, broader, smellier-looking man, he sounded petulantly gleeful in his response. "Quest accepted, Larbrook. Now you're stuck with us, whether you like it or not." The bigger man groaned, palming his face like he'd just learned his mother-in-law was visiting for a week. "Nice timing, guy. Name's Freyd. Welcome to the labyrinth that's kinda-but-not-really a labyrinth This bigshot is Lar

"You're remodeling, apparently." A dismissive wave drew Sam's attention away from the surrounding chaos. Realizing the damage she'd caused would only tip her back over they edge, and they needed her lucid if there was any hope of getting some answers. "Remembering that you were going to get married is good. That means you haven't been out of it for too long." Leave it to him to put a positive spin on memory loss. "And Katoka is perfectly safe. In fact, she's stronger than ever. You needn't worry about her. She's definitely grown into her own." wandering over to the coffee table, pro

Walking in silently behind Lium, the Whisper did what he always did and explored beyond the box. Could there be some plot or outside agency at work? Might some third party have it out for Sam, or be seeking to use her as a gateway for revenge against the guild. While his heart wept to see Sam in such a state, he had a job to do. Lium would take care of their friend. A fingertap on his thigh was all it took for a shadowy for to slink down his pantleg, pooling at this feet and then swelling back into the third dimension in the form of a mongoose. Persistence., better known as Persi , w

"No, look, I don't have a foursome. My three o'clock cancelled and I was hoping to squeeze in a round. What's the big deal? All I want to do is play through." Wearing a lightweight, red linen shirt with white printed palm trees, a sweat-stained white bucket hat and khaki shorts. The smaller man in the argument had a long leather satchel swung on a long strap over his left shoulder. Oddly shaped sticks with misshapen, bulbous protrusions stuck out the open end, each covered in strange knitted caps resembling Pokemon figures. "I didn't bring you here for... whatever this is meant to be.

It was like an itch yearning to be scratched. For months on end, since the last raid, Freyd had been playing the part of tank at every turn, being the responsible leader, motivating allies and keeping bad guys in check at every turn. Being respectable was exhausting. He'd even opened a domestic front as he and Elora took their relationship to the next level and built themselves a place together. "Moving in..." The whispered words still left him a bit gobsmacked, wondering how it had all happened. Despite the whirlwind of activity, he truly couldn't complain. Things were good. Real

Other recent conversations with Kat were enough to corroborate Lium's utterly random warning, upon receipt. Freyd had been training in the valley behind Witherwind Rest, completing his daily exercises, including practicing several new katas and sword arts he'd been working on. Sheltered as it was, the sound of the nearby waterfall tended to drown out any other calls or distractions. He and Elora had found this place together, and built a home here. Now he was struggling to learn what it meant to build the life meant to fit within. A word was all it took to restore his default gear. P

"I'm fairly certain that you and Hirru are very close to the same level, so it should be easy for you to mimic his build. The Jade Hunter is a generous, friendly sort. I'm sure he'd be happy to open up and share his thoughts, and you likely have a little time yet, before the raid, to rebuild whatever you might need. I may be able to help out with any gear components, if you need them, being an appraiser. You'll find my shop in Angel Point, or can always just send me a message with what you requirements. I keep way more stuff around than I need for myself." Glancing skyward again, Fre

"Hrm." He seemed to ponder for a moment, a hand wrapped in cloth darkest than blackest night drawing long slender fingers to his chin. "I know a few excellent supports: Hirru and Shiina jumping to the top of the list. Both lean heavy into healing and leadership arts, wearing heavy armor for resilience. They're as tough as tanks - giving even Shield a run for his money - but they don't generate any hate. Catch is that they literally can't deal any damage. Both are invaluable in a raid, but I'd personally struggle with sitting on the sidelines to that extent. To each their own, I gue

Raising a solitary finger to his lips, a smile perched upon mouth and eyes alike, Freyd acknowledged her arrival with an added nod. "Always glad to help," whispered the Whisper. "Things have been good. Surprisingly good," he added with emphasis. Renown for his persistently stern glare, it was unusual to see Freyd so seemingly relaxed and genuinely... happy? Life was riding high, lately, and he was determined to enjoy the wave while it lasted. "We haven't had many opportunities to get to know each other, and with another raid on the horizon it seemed like a good idea. Besides, I

Beckon the Void Description: Each creature casts its semblance onto the world; a penumbral portal granting back door access to their soul for those who know how to access it. With the strongest resolve, and affinity to the amorphous void, one can draw upon such powers to reach within and turn any darkness found inside out, literally. Enhancing the shadow manipulation effects of the Shades of the Gemini custom skill, wielding this sword art temporarily transforms a target's own shadow into a tangible threat, turning it upon

It was that time again. Flocks of winged monkey-folk blotted out the skies overhead as Freyd made his way silently to the outskirts of the Forest of Memories. Firm Anima's guild hall was located within the woods and occasionally required someone to clear out the pesky neighbours. Most prominent among them was the Witch of the West - not quite the green-skinned hag of Oz, but equally noxious in her manner. Her airborne servants were even worse, tossing about their waste like it was some sort of confetti. The woods literally stank when their numbers reached a certain critical mass, then cul

Even as the last of The Blight's guardians fell, Freyd felt its hunger seeping through the vile infection tainting his Wrath. The mount stumbled, losing its footing and sinking to its knees. Meanwhile, a sea of sickening black resembling used motor oil mixed with Metamucil and black printer's ink rose to lap at them from below. Screeching in protest, his cries hoarse and alien, it was its very similarity to a keening banshee's wail that somehow pierced the Whisper's addled, murderous haze. Samael's Pride made that same sound when it devoured, unleashing the infinite, consuming hunger of ob

Fighting off the boss while listening to his friend's brief, Freyd found himself smiling and chuckling at the prospect. The cursed serpent, with its multitude of extra limbs and eyes, somewhat resembled a disturbing-looking centipede, as if those things weren't creepy enough already at this size. "Yeah. Okay. That seems fair." A flare of familiar and restorative green signaled his companion's latest support effort. There were few healers of Hirru's calibre, even on the frontlines, and he respected the man's dedication to his chosen arts. Momentarily mesmerized by the glow, the serpen

Grunting an acknowledgement, Freyd didn't appear to buy the prank theory either. His machine-like mind was already dissecting the evidence provided by Katoka and pairing it like sets of misshapen puzzle pieces in his head. Did anything fit with what he'd previously gleaned about the Spire? "My greatest concerns about the curse of the Sundered Spire, or other similar digital - let's call them plagues or viruses - that they might somehow one day manage to infect a player. That could spell all of our doom. We already don't have the numbers to field consistent raid parties. The frontline

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Vestigial awareness of self lingered still in the ravenous form of the Faceless Lord of War as he brutally carved a path from one foe to the next, his companions legitimately worried by his cold, calculating and unrelenting progress across the battlefield. Freyd was no longer himself; perhaps not even any longer in control of his own actions as he propelled himself from one monstrosity to the next. The others wisely steered clear and away from his direct line of sight, the edges of his cowl serving as fortunate blinders to keep him focused on the foolish enemies that kept spawning before him

Freyd might have been found clinging to the ceiling after the pan clattered loudly against the cast iron stove. 'The Beast', as he called it, had proven difficult and expensive to obtain let along haul to the edge of the Fields of Crossing to become part of Witherwind Rest. Though he jumped, his boots managed to remain on the ground. The hamster in his brain, meanwhile, was already running flat out to keep ahead of pending cardiac arrest, hoping to piece together what happened before it lost the race. "Do you mean kids - ?", Wut? You could practically feel, let alone hear, the need