Freyd

A series of what sounded like thunderous explosions rocked the cavern network in the distance, reverberating through the interconnecting caves like the breaking of a planetary scale freight train slamming on the breaks. There was no light, but the cacophony was deafening. A plume-like wave of dust spewed from a nearly cave-mouth, confirming the source and highlighting the silhouette of a slender figure tumbling casually down the facing cliff with arachnid grace. His trademark cowl instantly gave him away as he approach, scraping fading motes of mob dust off his shoulder as he approached.

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos. Freyd was practically beside himself, except that Montjoy would have taken such efforts poorly. That was his job. Little more than a seeping shadow without substance or permanence, he still managed an unnerving degree of autonomy. Currently, he was using it to mock his caster - the object to his inky existence, who was absolutely unhinged over the fact that Quip had followed through on her threat. "Shut yer geggy 'n' be greatful that ah wis willing tae dae it fur ye. This steid is a disaster, Freyd, 'n' ah will na langer be wading thro' th' debris fi

Sauntering casually into the underwhelming shop, it's shelves still largely bare and stock supplies minimal, the Whisper's casual footsteps were lost amidst the din of clangs and pings echoing throughout. Ren was lost in his work, having shifted his focus from blades to heavy plate. It was a novel experience with a lot more nuance and complexity. Freyd, for his part, was content to watch and judge the smith's motives and potential for himself. He'd heard of this fellow and the uproar he was causing in Tomoika with his goods at cost approach. Truth was that Aincrad's economy was in shamble

Thin. Drawn. Stretched. A figure made of nothing stepped without sound having appeared as if from... itself? Something about it seemed wrong - anathema to its surroundings yet still tangentially connected. There was a kindship, yet the world recoiled at its presence, as if reality were holding its breath at the thing's passage. So much had happened since it was last here. Glancing down, it wondered whether its feet still matched the first footsteps to enter these halls. Trivial. Irrelevant. Forgotten. Drawing out its empty gaze across the hall, it found the choices unchanged, yet on

Known to the erudite as The Citadel of the Lost, few truly knew the origins of Firm Anima's headquarters. Constant turnover and attrition wore its identity down to the nub to be forgotten on the edge of the Forest of Memories. How ironic that this place, laced with so many secrets, barely clung to its own identity by a thread. So much like its owner and creator... Sitting in lotus on an erratic hunk of smooth-worn basalt, the Whisper swayed slightly in the breeze to the same silent tune as the surrounding field of lilies. Something had urged him seek out this place again and delve

Tiny toe beans, black on black, prowled through the thinnest of spaces between the door and its frame without a sound or stirring. She was made of pure nothing, after all, and quite prideful about it. Not much bigger than a housecat, but lacking the telltale ears. Hers were smaller and rounder, tucked in close to her head and blending in with the rest of her inky body. Only her brilliant azure eyes revealed her presence, distinct in that their irises were slotted on the horizontal. Definitely not a cat, but a mongoose of the shadow variety. She sniffed at the air and slunk about the plac

"Relax, Xena. There's no real danger out here." Freyd's demeanor was calm and casual. He patted her on the shoulder to draw her attention to the NPC, even as Pete started scampering about in some frantic frenzy of denial. "This can only mean one thing: you took the mayor's money, didn't you, Pete?" Rather than deny it, the old man was already running madly down the dock, crying out about some great legendary fish he'd just spotted, as if that was somehow going to get him out of paying back his debts. It seemed like a sudden and strange turn of evens until a spectacular speckled swo

"Who's Kadin? And what's with the axe?" His delivery may have been overly blunt, but Dustin struck him as the type who appreciated direct questions over beating about the bush. Freyd was half-distracted anyway, scanning telltale signs in the stonework as they made their way up the Bastion Wall and through the temple at its top. The vista it offered was spectacular, yet the Whisper hardly seemed to notice. Either he didn't care, or he'd seen it all countless times before. It could be both. "You seem big on the whole Norse motif, Dustin, but that particular name doesn't ring any m

Freyd spontaneously appeared at the entrance to the hall, finding it empty and unchanged. "What?! This is all the same shit that was here last time." A furrowed brow paired with pursed lips. Scouring through the list of available options, nothing jumped out. "I mean, I suppose I could pick one of these," he said, lifting up a vial that a pair of vials intertwined into one. "You don't see duality too often. Wasn't this a field boss drop at some point?" His gaze drifted to another set of niches, each with it own item on display. "I dunno, Persi, but a lot of this stuff seems a

Rank 5 Appraiser (Base: BD 10, CD 8+ for unique, 10 identifications per day) +1 to CD from Hermes’ Scale +2 EXP: Hard Working (also +1 IDs per day) +2 EXP: Lucrative (Firm Anima) (also +2 IDs per day) +1 EXP: Custom Ambition Tool (bought from own shop 2020-07-16) Consuming: Crafting Respite: [174142] Witch's Brew: none Identifications: 23x T4 Perfect Items (@3040 col) = 69920 col 3x T3 Perfect Items (@2000 col) = 6000 col +375000 col for re-rolls. (25 * 15,000 for 4 rerolls apiece) +3000 col for rerolls (1 * 3000 for 2 rerolls) Total Cost: 453920 col

"That was my seventeenth most favorite cup," he replied, deadpan, staring as the shattered bits of glass decomposed from solid to shards of light that then vanished into nothingness. Freyd studies Mina's face reading from the claw-like grip of his fingers still trying to strangle the air where the vessel had once been. Discomfort is an excellent teacher. "I nearly killed a boy, when I was twelve." His index traced the rim of his thirteenth more favorite cup. It was as if he needed to assuage the thing's fears of a possible pending glassware Apocalypse. "His name was Kyle, and he was

Their conversation slowed and eventually stilled, both just looking at each other and their respective cups. Both likely also empty. "Come on. Old Pete's quest isn't far from here. It will help you wrap up the last of First Lessons chain and give you a bit more EXP under your belt. Gaining levels is never a bad thing." Leading them from Snips and Snails back through Marv's gate and out into the fields beyond, he veered off in the direction of Tolbana. Boars milled around in the background, doing their thing. The occasional bit of NPC traffic on the road made the place seem more

"Violence doesn't always cooperate with efforts to avoid it. There are no deadlier opponents in this game than our fellow players who have chosen to prey upon or turn against their own. I'm glad to hear that you've managed to dodge it so far, but don't bet on it continuing indefinitely. If nothing else, at least be prepared." "Life and death... can we really say we have a right to decide it for anybody...?" “Absolutely: for ourselves. If someone decides they want to kill me, and I decide that’s not okay, I will take whatever steps are necessary to oppose them, up to and including

"Heh. Back then I couldn't hurt a fly. Wouldn't was another story. Now I can. What's changes is whether or not I would, or will, and under what circumstances." He stopped to sip at his tea. "My name appears twice on the monument across that plaza. Two names writ side by side, who'd cornered Astreya while she and I were aiding a lost NPC maiden in a cavern. They had us trapped but hadn't realized that I was also there. I could have tried to stun them, I suppose, but both were already tagged as player killers and it wasn't as though they were going to announce their strength - this was

Heartened to hear that his mysterious counterpart was alright, Freyd found himself forced to admit that he knew very little about her. "She actually gave me my very first weapon. It literally fell out of the sky just as I set foot beyond the gates of the first city. Nearly sliced off all the toes on my left side actually." His voice was both joking and nostalgic. "She later recognized it and said she'd dropped or lost it somewhere, but refused to accept its return. She's kinda funny that way, isn't she? We ran some weird Easter-bunny infested horror show of a dungeon together once

"Stalker?" Freyd practically roared with laughter at that one. "Yeah. Right. Sure. No offence to take there at all!" Actually, she wasn't far off from the truth. Freyd's life in SAO had become akin to the role of a spider at the centre of its web, tracking and hunting across a field of its own crafting. Ironic that the role of an information broker could be so similar. The biggest difference was his willingness to get his hands dirty. Even there, it was about choosing when to do so visibly, or not. "Two years changes a lot, depending on how they are spent. I've seen a l

Freyd's smile deepened as he watched Oji's reactions. The telltale signs of a non-gamer trapped in an unfamiliar universe. It was charming, in its own way, but could also be faked. "If you're a healer in search of bodyguards and allies to take this beast down, would it not be more prudent to find them before coming all the way out here? Have you not considered joining a guild? No offense, friend, but healers need allies. A mercenary medic would be a tough gig, and you don't strike me as the type." Freyd drew his hand back and crossed it with the other over his chest, leaning back

"No, never." A wry grin spread across the Whisper's face. Koga knew the banter game well. An eyepatch materialized out of thin air while Freyd's cowl flattened itself to his head and became a black bandana instead. "Is this better?" "Please! I must insist. Time is short." "Relax, Slim Jim," he said to the ever-agitated sailor, giving him a casual two-fingered salute. "And yes, we'll be borrowing your uncle dinghy. Thanks for offering." The NPC's mouth stalled, as if struggling to maintain its pre-empted script and programming. "Go practice your archery or something, in case

Freyd felt like he was missing some important queue to comfort Elora, but he didn't know the words. These were unfamiliar steps, and he never really learned to dance, or even carry a tune. She was also difficult to read. Or was she? Maybe he needed to just learn a new language. It wouldn't be the first time, would it? A hand gently placed on her shoulder. Fleeting only. Was it comforting? He wasn't sure. "I think you've both proven your mettle, Katoka. Let's hope none of us ever have to face that sort of situation again." Memories flooded back. So many faces in the water. So

As Dustin shifted from passionate volunteer to baking bribe artist, Freyd stifled a smile. The boy was eager but also seemed to swivel at every shift in the wind. Adorable, impulsive innocence paired with power over life and death: the power of a player in a game of souls. It amused that he ghosts were killable one instant, then dead meant dead again an instant later. Maybe that only applied if they weren't mostly dead. Things for more complicated from there. Chipper, bubbly Astreya faltered, if only momentarily. What lay under all that confetti and behind the pompoms? Some athlete

"My future? Heh. Good question." An honest, wistful smile as he pondered the possibilities, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing the edge of his steaming cup as his eyes followed the vapours to a place of infinite possibilities. "So much of what I do is focused around broad goals: keep my guild safe; keep myself current on happenings around the castle; help train up and coming new adventurers, preparing to aid the front lines; prepare for and join the assault on the next floor boss, when the time comes, etc." 'Keep internal threats at bay,' he added in his private thoughts. Freyd's true

"Are you Oji?" An elderly with thick leathery skin and enough wrinkles to make a Shar Pei blush slowly hobbled up beside him. It was slow arduous process to wait while he struggled to lift the flesh flaps from his bald brow up high enough to witness the reveal of a pair of shiny grey eyes. They seemed friendly and jovial, which was more than could be said for most of Home. The settlement was little more than a refugee camp, cobbled together behind the towering Bastion Wall and nestled against the very edge of an otherwise wasteland of a floor. The locals were a rough, salt-of-the-earth so

A dark-hooded face pressed itself against the glass, peering into the shop, sniffing like some scent-addled puppy at the prospect of more honey cakes. Freya had created a monster - a bigger, hungrier monster, at least. Wrestling with the latch, Freyd finally made it inside, the door giving way suddenly and spilling him inside with unexpected gusto. "Why do I keep forgetting that this place is here, on this floor? Though I don't think I've ever actually placed a formal order before. Seems only fitting to do so. You've fed me so many of the damned, delectable things that I'd probably

Snips and Snails was a popular resto-bar not far off the main square of the Town of Beginnings. Freyd frequently visited the place to refill his coffee reserves, especially while on his way to one of his irregular visits to Marv or to catch up on the latest round of additions to the Monument of Life. One was far more macabre than the other. Oda, the owner, was an older fellow, which typically meant someone in their thirties around this place. Few older adults were drawn to the appeal of new games like SAO with quite the same zeal and urgency as the teenagers and young adults who filled out