Freyd

Watching Nari move was a marvel. He'd never actually fought in heavy armor himself, but every other carapaced veteran of the game he'd ever fought beside couldn't hope to match her speed or flexibility. In a strange way, it was a rare treat of refreshing novelty. But the equally unexpected turn in their continued conversation was what pierced his casual nonchalance about such things. Nari had struck a nerve that he rarely, if ever, allowed to be exposed; multiple, in fact. "Call me naive, but...what are your thoughts on i-" Right. Combat. Eyes on the ball. The treant's siz

"Fishing is about a lot more than just catching fish," he replied coyly, a wistful smirk spreading across his lips. "The rest really needs to be experienced to learn, though we could try it if you wish. Kyu doesn't seem particularly keen, but maybe we could offer some conversation in exchange, at least to pass the time until something else is selected?" Dismissing his bag back to inventory, Freyd wandered out into the water until it rose to the level of his knees, not bothering to remove his footwear. Antiquated rod already in hand, suitable bait was promptly summoned, hooked and cast

Meanwhile, Freyd casually sat casually in a third-hand lawn chair cobbled together from stray bits of refuse and detritus strewn about the sludge fields just beyond the Liminal Blind. Awkwardly functional, yet tastefully macabre, the egregious bit of furniture looked like Frankenstein had taken up carpentry, but used his own parts. Relying mostly on congealed zombie drool as an adhesive, bits of bone, tattered clothing, and fleshy hides whose origins were best left unconsidered, it was perfectly suited to its environs. This was floor thirteen, or the undead-invested, miasmic wasteland that

Freyd's left eye twitched and winced uncontrollably at Nari's description of Persi's owner as 'caring, capable and well-meaning.' These were definitely not traits commonly associated with him or any of the various demeanors he so often donned while about his business. And yet, it had been used by others as well. Were time more permissive, he might have dwelled upon it a while longer. Circumstance dictated otherwise, hurtling them towards yet more conflict. "The things we do in our final hours define who we are..." "Well put." Monologuing had never been his goal, only sharing a sl

"Good," Freyd replied, watching and nodding as Wulfrin dispatched the porcine critter. "I'd say your talents are at least offering you some inherent insight into navigating the mechanics. It gets to be second nature after a while, though also considerably more complex. The closest comparison, I've always found, is the sort of muscle memory demonstrated by practiced gamers. They can fly through wicked combos on a console controller, or navigate the interactions of complex macros through a keyboard without batting an eyelash. Weird as it might sound, those are the skill sets of frontliners.

"Saving face?" One corner of the man's thin slivered lips curled at the unexpected insight. The question was directed at why her thoughts had drifted to that answer, not what was meant by it. "Yes. Very samurai, wouldn't you say? Strange how these elves seem to follow western conventions, and yet... not so much?" Mirth remained, but the fool was gone from his tone and a different glint shone behind his eyes. Could his ramblings have been some sort of a ruse? "I don't think the Lord Commander Utter-Failure over there is very happy about us being here, but teach him to screw up in

"Vancouver? Really?! I grew up in Burnaby, on the edge of Coquitlam! Small world, eh?" Freyd chuckled, shaking his head and somehow seeming to forget or ignore the peril gathering around them. It had been more than a decade since he'd left that life behind, plus whatever time had passed since they'd been trapped in this nightmare. But now wasn't the moment to wistfully reminisce. Mayhem followed the sailing of a severed hand, instantly driving Freyd into a frenzied flurry of action. Fists and feet flung themselves in various directions all at once, the first catching the dismembere

Pulses like lightning began to flash beneath the modest rippling waves on the open lake. Moments later, rumbling shook the sand, like thunder through the ground, or... depth charges? Portions of the lake slumped suddenly, like pockets created by some massive invisible ladle scooping the water away. Before the voids could refill, water erupted upwards in a series of massive jets, like geysers blowing simultaneously or a pod of humpback whales discovering the joys of synchronized swimming. Bits of orange crystal began raining down like fireworks; until Katoka realized that they were actually

"Well he's a charmer," Wulfin grunted, emerging from Lyle's forge and smithy, soot already forming a thin layer of his gear. Freyd laughed heartily in response, that certain twinkle in his eye. "Really? I think so too," he replied, beaming. "Got you to do what he wanted without negotiating terms, though, didn't he?" There was tangible admiration in the Whisper's voice. "Which either means you're a sucker, or they've definitely laced his programming with a few psychology subroutines. And, I don't think you're a sucker, so let's just blame the system and go kill some boars." Whatever

"Congrats. And, I'd be happy to continue helping," Freyd replied to the invitation, having quietly watched from the shadows as Wulfrin had his moment. Every player went through this at some point, it seemed. It was like watching a rookie earn his stripes and be let out into the field for real, except that they were all in the field at all times. At least the man would be better prepared as a result, and Freyd meant what he said about investing in his fellow players. It was the very reason he ran a tab with Ren at the Knight Shift to arm and equip as many new players as possible. Their fut

"Really? Does the queen just invite anyone to these meetings?" "Erm... I mean... probably?" Groaning a dull ache throbbed across his entire front, which had born the brunt of his impact, Freyd managed to roll over onto his back to glance at the two figures looming over him. His cowl fell back as he did so, revealing a plain-faced boy with pale skin and few notable features; only a pair of bright blue eyes reminiscent of his familiar's. "The quest probably triggers just by wandering into this part of the City," he guessed, wincing at imagined pain in his ribs. The system's pain sup

Having reeled in nothing more either, Freyd dismissed his gear with the wave of a gloved hand then rolled sideways off his stone to stand. Hands stuffed casually in his pockets, he followed Wulfrin back towards town, the sun making a race towards the end of its own daily journey overhead. "You'll have a chance for combat in the second lesson, should you prefer to complete that as well. It's not a bad idea, and entirely your choice. Either way, your blade will be ineffective against Terra Firma until you learn more skills and build up your energy reserves. That quest would be entirely

"Don't let it get to you," Freyd offered, as Wulfrin vented some frustration. He absolutely hated this quest too, and marveled that it had never been improved or retired. The entire exercise seemed designed to generate the sort of disinterested malaise that kept players from foraying into the world. But then, maybe that was the point? Cardinal was Kayaba's weapon and tool, and he clearly wasn't above using it to play psychological games against his lab rats. "You'll be done this soon enough and we can get to kitting you out." Content to patiently wait things out himself, he cast his line

A minor explosion of col at a nearby vendor's stall barely forestalled the system triggering a theft, and all of the unfortunate consequences that would have followed. Instead, Freyd came racing around the corner into the open street with his pockets turned out, chasing a small zigzagging shadow of pure darkness bearing two mischievous and very self-satisfied azure eyes. Precariously perched in its tiny maw, and leading the bizarre procession, was a small and very startled looking rainbow trout. "PERSI! Get back here with that fish before you set us both in a giant heaping load of trou

"Yeah... sure," Freyd gladly responded jovially, tamping out sparkly mob bits drifting like embers down onto his clothes. "Uh... how about we head up to that new floor we just helped open and see what's poking around there?" Lite'tara wasn't a large settlement, and also located just outside the labyrinth's gates. It took them mere seconds to reach the teleportation arch in the main square. "Oh, crap... what was it called again? Ummm... something Wizard of Oz meets spy movie... Oh! Right. Glyndebourne!" The dull and ominous greys of floor 25 faded from view to be replaced by far mor

"I swear that they're just using AI art generation rejects at this point, you know?" By the time Hirru would turn, he was already gone. Having closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, Freyd caught their would-be assailants off guard and turned the very same tactic against them. Snaring the nearer naga-thingy by the edge of the cleft of its malformed figure, he barreled high into its chest knocking it prone on its back. Then, using his momentum, he summersaulted over top of it grabbing onto its shoulders and used his own momentum to launch the startled mob right at its partn

"I have one very simple goal, though most people think I have more schemes than they have items on their grocery lists, just because of how I dress. To be perfectly honest, I usually prefer to foster those assumptions and let their hang-ups paralyze them so that I never need to. All the spoopy cloak and dagger stuff aside, we all need to get out of here and the clock is ticking. Beyond the challenges of time, there is one very finite resource available to us in this game: ourselves. Players, to state it more specifically. We're non-renewable. Every one of us we lose it one person less to

Sighing and laughing simultaneously, Freyd knew exactly how Wulfrin felt. "Yeah. I get why they were designed it this way, but these intro quests can be absolutely brutal. This one's probably the worst, since there really isn't much you can do to circumvent the requirements. I've probably helped dozens of players get through it, and it still feels brutal every time." Pensive for a moment, Freyd seemed to be weighing options. "There's another quest up on... floor five?" It wasn't clear who he was meant to be asking, when something shifted beneath his clothes then slunk out like a syr

"Meh," the fisherman snubbed, dismissing his companion's comments about being rusty. "In here, your muscles are digital, just like the rest of... well... everything. I've been a swordsman, a staff-wielder and a martial artist. There's definitely value in practicing, but I wouldn't say that any of it was inherently carried over from the 'real' world." Freyd's line went sailing casually through the air as he spoke, plunking into a swirling part of the brook by the far bank. "My point is: be who you choose to be, and give yourself time to get there. Progress rarely happens overnight. I

A woman, regal and matronly, sat quietly upon said throne, wrapped in endless layers of cloth straining the eyes as they covered every imaginable shade from terra cotta to deepest maroon. He hair, replete with symbols of office and intricately delicate decorations, was splayed over the seat back and merged into all of the surrounding fabrics. It took little effort to realize that the entirety of the chamber and all he had witnessed beyond originated here. All of those sickly gossamer strands and glowering filaments originated here, of the top of this singular mob's head. Thousands of s

Spiralling stone tunnels soon turned into stairs, ever changing in direction, yet consistent in the pace of their upward climb. The filaments pulse more loudly and steadily now, their rhythmic pattern falling into the familiar cadence of a heartbeat. "Yeah. That's not creepy at all," Freyd muttered under his breath, wondering where this was all leading. He had joined a few raids, but never hunted or face a labyrinth before and wasn't quite sure what to expect. All reports received to date suggested that these mobs could be entirely unique, on par with raid bosses in that respect. I

The passage itself was quite tight, most of it already choked by the same thick translucent strands that he'd been encountering since he first entered this forest. A sickly, pinkish-red hue clung to them, providing minimal amounts of light that made him feel like he'd just entered a submarine rigged for battle stations. Hints of worked stone poked through, here and there, but most of the available space was consumed by the threads, which wove themselves into patterned bundles as they clung to the corridor walls and ceilings. Heat? It was also uncharacteristically warm in here, with increas

More howling broke the silent solemnity of the scene. "The wolves," Freyd declared, cursing his luck. "Look like I didn't manage to lose them after all." A second call echoed from farther to the east. Then a third, closing off the only remaining option for escape. "Cornered. Great." Taking stock of the dwindling options, Freyd realized he hadn't yet checked on his fighting partner since Delilah's passing. "Persi, are you okay?" Shadow mongoose never made any vocal sound, but she came close and pressed her muzzle against his forearm, wrapping herself around and ultimately slink

Kneeling down at Delilah's side, Freyd had watched the last of her health bar vanish, a telltale sign of impending and inevitable end. "You're okay now," he consoled, more gently and quietly, taking her hand in his even as her skin began to flake away and turn to dust. "It's gone, and can't hurt you anymore." Delilah cried, her body convulsing in the motions but voice already gone, tears streaming down the broken orange mesh of her avatar, revealed along the near side of her face. "I'll find your mom, Delilah. We'll stop the thing that did this to both of you, I prom..."

Red thread monster clashed against Whisper in Shadow, both roiling, dancing, stabbing and thrashed violently, each seeking to gain the upper hand. Delilah kept trying to engulf her target with her weavings, only to have them unravel in the face of a swift parry or dodge. Freyd was just too many places at once, too quick for her to corner. Beyond that, his own strikes now turned her strength against her. Every blow drained a little more colour from her sinewy armor, restoring Freyd's health in the process. All of the cuts and contusions inflicted upon him were slowly fading as his health ba