Freyd

The scent of fresh coffee proved irresistible to Freyd, who'd fallen asleep at his desk after their long haul to Tir Na Nog and the crazy stakeout that Freya had them pull for Sam in the lead-up to those events. It probably hadn't helped that he'd pulled several too-long patrols on some of the mid-level floors in advance of that. A sigh followed his stretch, nearly knocking over the small bowl of ether he'd set out for Persi, lest she decide to pull a clandestine raid on the pantry, or worse - Raidou's alchemical supply cupboards. Shadow mongooses don't tend to go for the more traditional f

Feigning insult, Freyd waved away her excuses and concerns. "Nonsense. You asked for my help, and I'm happy to do so. If you don't have a familiar yet, then it's something we should fix." Looking down at his own chest, he poked himself firmly in the sternum a few times until something seemed to shift beneath his armor. "Wake up, sleepy head. We have to go find that gypsy lady again. You know the one. I think you are her entire treat supply last time." Something dark and inky slithered out from beneath his shirt, pooling at his feet like some sort of independent shadow. A pair

"If you ever feel the desire, consider joining Firm Anima. Again - no strings. We're a crafting guild at heart, though the sheer progress that's been made by its membership makes it seem like some sort of army. It's just a group of people who work together for common good, though that's more valuable than most people ever realize." Hopping off his stone perch, Freyd stuffed his hands into his pockets and started wandering about the grasslands. There was a certain point in any conversation where words were best set aside. Freyd knew it when he saw it, and so busied himself by staring

A young man stepped into the clearing from the void, a pair of simple wire-frame glasses perched beneath a dark mop of hair. They framed a long narrow face that seemed totally unsurprised and at ease with their surroundings. He had soft blue eyes tinted towards the grey of the ocean beneath an overcast sky, surveying the tree and people gathered at the edge of this peculiar space. His clothes were plain and casual. A charcoal hoody cast over an old worn t-shirt with some obscure gaming logo sat on a tall, lanky frame that lacked the perpetual tension that governed his counterpart's digital

Following the crowd, a few footsteps behind the Broken King, Freyd had remained silent since the results of the vote were announced. If it meant anything to him, he didn't show it, as he so rarely showed any emotions. They were a liability, and yet things had been in flux for some time. It made life easier to portray a façade without caring, or at least detached from any capacity for empathy, but the balance of that inner balance had recently been tipped. An ancient inner conflict was nearing resolution. How would it end? A practiced, neutral expression and steady, forward focused ga

"Is that so surprising?" "A little." A coy, almost sheepish smile crept up the edges of an otherwise plain and forgettable face. "Things were so hectic last time that we never really got a chance to meet. Plus, I was a total paranoid wreck at the time, so..." A waved hand dismissed his past self as casually as one might a pesky gnat. It seemed so long ago now, and part of him would be glad to forget himself from that time. "As much as I'm flattered, it's not like I was strong from the get go." "Hah! You haven't looked at yourself from the eyes of a fledgling player in a

His face set back to its default, inscrutable mask as he watched Freya speak to Sam and Eruda. This mess was taking a toll on his guildmates, and he didn't like it. But they deserved his trust and an opportunity to sort out the individual struggles. Freyd? Is this really you? Montjoy's tone straddled admiration and concern, and received no response. "Fair warning to all," Freyd began, all humour fading from his voice as fatigue was suppressed by the primacy of pending peril. "This place we're going to plays by its own rules. The best way to describe it is as an unfinishe

A single eyebrow arched while the opposite side of his lips curled upward into a smirk. "Pouncing, eh? Oh! That actually reminds me of something." Reaching out before him, his hand vanished into thin air, as if he'd somehow punctured the very fabric of their world. With a twist, he seemed to grasp at something and withdrew the appendage. Opening his palm to reveal a small ring of ornately carved green stone. Its surface was sculpted to look like swaying grass, partially concealing the form an inset black stone in the shape of a panther. "I hope you haven't changed your preferen

Freyd laughed, one of the really solid kind that barreled right down through your chest. Mirth seemed a better description of his reaction. "I don't know why you feel the need to apologize. I'm the one who nearly got killed by those boars. Who knew they could be so lethal? It's really kinda weird." His reaction faded, but still left a smile upon his face, largely nondescript and easily forgotten in a crowd. Freyd wasn't handsome, like so many players in the game made themselves out to be. Despite his penchant for disguise and trickery, he was actually more forthright than m

Old Freyd would have watched dispassionately as the man before him wilted into himself. He wouldn't have understood and wouldn't have cared. But, thanks to the efforts of many and over the long haul, he'd finally managed to rekindle that spark within that required to connect to another human being's plight. "Look," he began, haltingly. This wasn't really his thing and never had been, so it was more like trying to turn a nugget of raw ore into a sword than just shaking the rust off. "If you need space and to do your own thing, that's cool. I've been there. I've actually been to some o

The figure tilted its cowl-covered head in an oddly puppy-like gesture, like a hound struggling to make sense of its quarry's odd behaviour. Under different circumstances, she might have imagined a pair of big floppy beagle ears dangling from either side, but her current predicament was considerably less conducive to imagining phone app dress-up skins. "Well, you're still nimble, but you spook worse than I recall." The voice was spot on for Freyd. As he leaned forward, a few stray beams of light managed to pierce the canopy and illuminate enough of his face for a proper look. It was

"Baldur? A mentor of yours? No shit?" He seemed truly surprised, but pleasantly so. "Given what I saw you and Mari do against those crystalline behemoths, I figured you both for Frontliners from the start; no disrespect to @Baldur. He's as fine a swordsman and leader as can be found in Aincrad, but you never struck me as the type to belong in anyone else's shadow." Chuckles followed an outstretched hand suggested they might find themselves suitably comfortable seating at a nearby balcony facing away from the dojo towards the manicured serenity of the estate's outer grounds. "He and I

The message was so unexpected that Freyd struggled to believe that it was even authentic. He and Xena had shared more than a few frantic adventures in their early days, until that incident with the boars had triggered his paranoia so bad that he'd nearly had a breakdown in the process. If that guard hadn't... if Marv hadn't saved him. Well, he'd be a nothing but a pile of pixels in the wind now, wouldn't he? They'd parted ways after that, but not because he'd wanted to. Freyd was afraid. No. Crippled, but by scars they ran straight through his psyche. Sitting in a sparsely decorated st

Freyd remained still as the stone upon which he sat, pondering the significance behind Bismuth's unspoken words. He had his own demons of his own and the trauma to back it up. Watching the junior player scurrying through the underbrush, he saw himself from the not-so-distant past. Could he really blame him for being elusive? He'd been ten times worse and far more skittish as his earliest self. "Yeah," he add, lifting his head to stare at the distant edge of the floor, that strange false horizon leading to an endless, empty sky beyond. "That's fair. I've been there too. Just promi

"Many thanks," Freyd whispered with unexpected humility upon arrival to collect his parcel. "And my appreciation for completing the work so quickly. I know that it's... unusual. That's just the way with memories, isn't it?" No further details were provided, but the odd man carried an uncharacteristic sense of peace and joy as he tenderly lifted the package and stepped lightly towards the exit. He paused upon reaching the door, the knob twisted open and leaf slightly ajar. Words hung unspoken as his cowl twisted in serpentine fashion back towards the counter, but hesitation snared

As the chaos of battle simmered down, the magnitude of silence and absence reigned. The inevitable had clashed against the impossible. In a paradox of improbabilities, a legend had fallen. Not the boss, of course. Those died constantly - almost inevitably. No, this felt like the crushing oblivion of unimaginable loss exposing the thing that lays beyond the last shred of salvation. Despair had taken the field in the form of a Pyrrhic victory. Wind, like the last gasp of hope, carried the acrid scent of brimstone across the blasted field, broken by the sound of a booth crunching upon

"Huh... so this is what all the hubbub was about? Big. Tall. Kinda mostly empty." Strolling casually through the massive arched hall, Freyd felt dwarfed by the giant colonnades and statues lining the walls. Most were generically nondescript, as you might expect from a space that didn't seem to be linked to the lore of any particular floor. Altars lined niches between the ornaments, each displaying some form of reward. Many looked familiar by sight or description, triggering vague recollections of pre-flood quests and events that had somehow become inaccessible. "The is an awful lot

"Spoken like someone who's been burnt in the past. I know. I've been there too." A single arched brow countered any surprise. Freyd crossed his arms over his chest before consciously making the effort to break down that barrier and place them on his knees instead. "It's not easy to let people get close, or take the risks that trust requires. It leaves you exposed, and almost inevitably hurt." He licked his lips, clearing his throat as if trying to clear hesitation away. "It also doesn't leave you with much a life, cut off from everyone and everything." Freyd pointed at the fields

He was back again, and far sooner than expected, but rumours told that The Evening Star’s goods had recently been restocked, and there were a few convenient items he needed replenished. Unexpected encounters had let him to hand out more freebies than expected. ‘Investments’ he kept telling himself. Raidou would hand the world every tool available for its own sake. Freyd’s nature required more convincing. These seemed like good deals, as were NIGHT’s wares. It was time to connect the two. "For an old friend," Freyd muttered, seeming lost in wistful thoughts that hadn't quite run thei

Freyd snorted, unable to contain his agreement, but his smile returned in the process. The cowl remained to conceal most of his features and expressions, like a sort of shroud behind which the many details of his own exploits and adventures would likewise remain a secret. "Yeah. Foraging is not my thing, at all. Doesn't really bother me much, though fishing is better suited for me, I think." Had he misread the man? Not likely. But this approach was likely to rub others the wrong way, despite his assertions. Freyd was more inclined to believe that he had figured Bismuth out - classi

He'd had his ass handed to him, and was completely ecstatic about it. Even as @Astreyacalled false foul, with a lilt of playful laughter in the distance, he waved himself off the field of battle with unusually nonchalant grace. Thanks and praise were given freely to the victor and those who had setup this mashup in the first place. His ribs still hurt. Not from the impact of @Baldur's specialized toys, but sheer laughter at the absurdity of the battle before them. It was just puerile fun, of a kind the man they called the Whisper never allowed himself, yet so desperately needed. Grab

"The man's going to start to think we have something going on the side. You know that right?" Blue eyes wrapped in creased weariness stared sympathetically at her from behind a steaming mug that he'd partially hoped would iron out the growing number of wrinkles in his brow, or else at least this tangled mess of interconnected tales. "Gaius has come a long way, but this sort of thing is exactly the type to set him off, and probably with good cause." He nabbed another honey bun from the package laying open between them. Freya seemed to have an endless supply of the things and it made her hap

The end results were all that mattered, in the Whisper's eyes. Gratitude was not required for resources provided, and he cared little for the etiquette that others relied upon to sustain their fragile social structures. In other words, Freyd didn't need people around to be nice, so long as they got the job done. Whether Bismuth had figured it out or not, Freyd was tagging along for one simple reason: to evaluate him. "She definitely has her uses, if you can manage her attitude," he said, softly, his grin pairing off against her narrowed gaze. "And, if I had any compunctions about tagg

"Relax," he added, still laughing. "There were way too many people around to tell who did that, right guys?" A clatter of chuckles sounded from the other players around the room. Freyd had just made their lives easier. They weren't about to rat them out for it. "If you're serious about the broker thing," he added, clearly believing that she was, "you're gonna need to pull tricks like that, or at least spot them when people try to pull them on you. There will be no shortage of people willing to take advantage, or just to stiff you for their own shits and giggles." A systems p

Their pace slowed once they reached the village proper. Tolbana still bustled with activity, dozens if not hundreds of players crowing the starter zone as they scrambled to complete their quests. Zackariah's hut was absolutely swamped, blocking any sight of the NPC. "Huh. Well, that's a problem." Freyd stood with his left hand on his hip and his right scratching at his unruly mop of mousy-brown hair. A mischievous grin spread across his lips as the beginnings of a plan formed in his head. "You may want to stand off to the side, behind that fence," he said to Xena, nodding towards a