Freyd

A beam of something crackled through the air directly over Katoka's snow-filled hair, striking the ice behemoth directly in the chest. A crisp scent of ozone filled the air. It hurt to gaze upon the darkness, as if witnessing its presence, or absence, was abhorrent to a living soul. Avalanche lurched, then stumbled back with a heavy footfall, trying to brace itself against the impact of the nothing that had pierced its heart. Freyd stood upon its chest, having appeared out of nowhere, gazing hard into the empty, shadowed sockets that doubled as its eyes. In his hands, the dark shaft of Sa

“You speak to us of Fate, and denying its designs?" Freyd's words simmered with barely controlled anger, barked out between clenched teeth in outrage at the system's flagrant attempt at a feint. "But you're the agent of that fate, are you not? You're not a man, Gabrandr! You've no soul, or body laying in some unknown, wasting state beyond the confines of this prison world. You're a figment conjured to challenge and delay, spinning a tragic tale so that we feel bad. Your deeds contradict your words, and what you spout as noble intentions falters in the face of ignoble action. Raidou

A hollow smirk adorned the Whisper's face, partially concealed beneath his familiar cowl. Baldur scored points for good sportsmanship, though he and Lessa seemed to have no shortage of unexplained history together. The way they danced around each other reminded him of the coy manner of a certain aunt and uncle he'd once had, save the pledge and finger bindings. Maybe the two were courting, after a fashion. It really wasn't something he would normally bother with, but it paid to know the nature of the relationships between those with whom you travelled. Baggage had a way of flying out of l

"To be perfectly honest," Freyd chimed in after swallowing his latest golden ball of gummy mouth balm, "I feel like a bit of a fraud pretending to spout some semblance of profound wisdom about these things." Not the words one might expect to hear from the ominously clad warrior, but Freyd had a penchant for delving into the unexpected. Pursing lips and a brief exhalation made it hard for his companions to read whether the pause signaled some difficulty in the admission or other underlying intent. The truth was, typically, somewhere in between. "This is only my second raid," he ad

Racing up behind his companion, Katoka felt a further spray of snow as Freyd planted his staff in packed snow at her side, using it to vault himself high into the air an on a solid trajectory for the ice golem's face. Its icy features cracked as it furrowed its brow, the snapping sounds echoing off the frozen cliff walls and reverberating back towards them, threatening to cause a real version of the monster's namesake. Giant clawed hands reached up and smashed together with a resounding clatter, catching the darkly clad figure between them, seeking to squish him like some sort of bug. It ev

"Ah, so that's it. Dude's got his zealot and martyr fuses swapped." Freyd sucked a breath through his teeth, shaking his head at the tragic trope in full display before them. "There's no helping him, then. Our goal lays on the far side of his doom." A lunging feint converted at the last minute to a tumble as the dark clad figure skittered beneath the giant warrior's shield and battery of gossamer armaments floating with excess auras of lethality over his head. They were a tanking problem. His personal challenge was to find spots of sufficient squishiness to deliver the same quality o

Opportunities to decipher the truth behind Galtea's defeat by Ladonian hands had been few and far between, but Freyd had scrounged a few glimpses - enough to form a primitive picture of shattered national and personal pride. Given what was happening before them and the quad of Death Star lasers this dude had pointed at the ceiling, he wasn't feeling particularly sympathetic. A shared glance with the vanguard was enough to know that their flank was solid even as the other took the brunt of the king's assault. They needed to draw his ire back this way and give the other group the time require

ph *** Freyd | HP: 1160/1160 | EN: 150/150 | DMG: 24 | MIT: 78 | EVA: 2 | ACC: 4 | BH: 63 | LD: 5 | AA | BLGT: 32 | P.V.O | REC: 8 | STK: 40 Full Stats:

"Barely anyone came. I had to find the only person that wanted to talk about it, and it wasn't even for the thing they stated they wanted to talk about. I swear, I feel like I'm never going to live down that day." The flicker of firelight dancing across his features gave Freyd a veneer of warmth that often seemed lacking. For this moment, at least, he wasn't the cold, distant, ceaselessly logical machine that churned through content like a fat kid through their collected Halloween treats. "Then you need to stop trying to live it down." Still blunt, apparently. "Seriously, if p

"The blonde boy's name is... was Tuatha Dé Danann Escheté. He was Simmoné's real life brother." The girl deserved to know the truth, no matter how utterly bizarre. Something akin to sympathy crossed the Whisper's carefully guarded face. "I can't explain it. Whatever this strange series of events represents, or how Nisahime is bound up in all of it is still too convoluted to make clear. But you have basically been haunted by the twisted guilt and sorrow of her loss, which was also the very same spirit that somehow saved Freya's life here in SAO." Lifting his hands, palms open, Freyd

EXP Award: 3534 words / 30 = 117*5= 589*Tier x T8 = 4712 EXP +30% = 6125 EXP to @Hirru

Freyd just blinked at the plot of word barf laid bare before him, trying to process all the dots in need of connecting. "What the what?! You.. can't just ralph it up like that." Screwing his eyes tight with squinting didn't seem to help. "I'm not even sure I followed everything you just said, but sure. Let's go with 'you got it all' and move on." Turning back to Raidou, Freyd's eyes held a 'wtf was that', without having to utter a word. "Morrighan seems to be the person, or the player. Nisahime is her persona. They coexist in this world, but I haven't quite figured..." Brows

Thread Summary: 3854 words / 30 = 128*5= 640*Tier 3854 / 300 = 13 seeds Freyd receives: 9568 EXP (Word Count [640*13] + 15% from event) 943465 col (400 [1 page] + 723908 [Loot] + 1435 [Laurel, +15% of EXP as col] + 30% from event) 177 mats (118 [Loot] + 50% from event) 13 Seeds (Event) 0 tags - ID: 202603 (CD 7); 202604 (CD 2); 202605 (CD 2) 10 Demonic Shards 8 Gleaming Scales Random Dungeon Map [202562a] Random Dungeon Map [202562b] T4 Rare Armor/Shield [202563a] T4 Rare Armor/Shield [202563a] Random Dungeon Map [202564a] Random Dungeon

"He took it," she explained candidly. "I wasn't really in a position to prevent him from doing so, but we managed to talk things out a bit." Meek chuckling was all that she could muster while running her slender fingers over his large ears. "Just be glad we aren't both dead, because I'm just about certain that we just encountered oblivion personified. It was really weird to just talk to something that seconds earlier had been set on obliterating you and everything you ever cared about." She rubbed his head a few more times. "I'm really sorry about Nhiks, and Harbourne, and, well.

When the red finally cleared from Fresco's head, the dark nightmare was gone, as was every effort he had ever made to contain his true form, and his pride. The assassin had tossed him around like a rag doll, redirecting his rage to cause the death of the very man he'd been sworn to protect. A flinch and start took hold as he felt an unexpected touch upon his brow. It was only then that he realized that the world was on its side, and that his head was resting in Szareesh's lap. "What... happened?" She smiled, sadly, her tears having long ago run dry. "It's okay," she offered.

"I'm not entirely sure what's happening here, Szareesh of the whatever, but I have no desire to see your friend killed. In fact, all I came here to do was to rescue someone who'd once helped save my life and that of many others." The child draped herself over the broken form of her friend, whose health bar scraped barely a sliver above oblivion. She couldn't stand the though of losing anyone else. "Take me to Hoshi and we can end this right now. No one else needs to get hurt. I think that's something we would both prefer to live with, yes?" Wiping a snot-gushing nose on her

"What's your name, girl?" Freyd's voice held a hint of curiosity and, strangely, compassion. Persi was in the process of mauling her friend, so he could spare a moment for a sidebar. "Szareesh, Scout, First class, of the Regalian Frontier Squadron in his majesty's Galtean Navy." When was the last time she'd even identified herself by those words. They'd been lost to time, twisted into a pretzel-shaped desire to forget that she'd forgotten they even existed. She could hardly see him through the sobbing mucus-covered mess that was her face. "It's just so not fair!" Freyd had alwa

Stone tore and broke around Were-Fresco's form as he recovered from the force of Freyd's blow. He had to shake his head at least three times to stop the ringing within and get his visions to stop wobbling around. Unfortunately, all was still a red haze in a world filled with nothing but hate and anguish. Freyd stepped sideways and emerged from Szareesh's own shadow catching the furious first mate with another fearsome uppercut that dive his skull straight up into the ceiling. "What can't you just leave us alone," the girl pleaded, tears streaming down the white fur on her face. "We ju

"STOP! FRESCO! STOP!!!" The words bounced off of his mind, which had completely disconnected from any interaction with rational reality. Fresco had become the very monster he'd struggled so long to contain. A man and a people afflicted by a curse beyond his control and subjects to the whims of distant, apathetic Lords of Fate. His end was playing itself out in ever-deepening tragedy, and on the verge of consuming him. Favouring attack, Freyd had already feigned low and launched himself through the dispersing cloud that had been Harbourne, sneaking below enraged Fresco's anger

"So, I'm guessing that's a 'no'?" Freyd spun and flung his prisoner into the path of the crazed were-rat onslaught, a cloud of teeth and claws hurtling straight towards him. Harbourne never stood a chance and was vaporized instantly, features of grave regret mixed with terror frozen on his face as his friend tore him to pieces. Szareesh screamed in the background, at the egregious horror playing out before her. Her mind struggling to comprehend how her world had so suddenly been turned upside down. Hadn't the Galteans suffered enough? Was is truly necessary that pile insult onto inju

Spotting the insignia tucked under the fold of the man's coat, Freyd recognized it as the same one worn by the rat woman who'd led the assault on the barge. A brass medallion slipped to hang from his fingers over Harbourne's head. "Someone left a memento behind on your last raid. That didn't go so well, by the way. But I'll tell you what. You give me the hostage taken by the survivors and I'll spare the rest of you from the same fate as the guards. Deal?" Fresco was dead still and silent, his jaw hanging half-open as he stared at the trinket he'd given his wife all those years

"Say your peace, assassin. The longer I hold you up, the more my men will tighten the noose around your neck." To his credit, Fresco had actually managed to sound more credible than he felt. "You mean the men I left in fragments between here and your front door?" The cowled cretin tilted his head in a mocking manner that nearly broke the first mate's restraint. He knew that his captain would kill him if he failed to protect the alchemist. This wasn't looking good, either way. "So, what's worth more to you: the casque, the old man or the mouse girl?" Freyd honestly didn't care

Chaos engulfed the tight tunnel as half a dozen soldiers struggled to find their target, which seemed to shift and vanish like the wind. Whatever it was seemed to have figured out what they were trying to protect as a leather-clad foot stomped on Harbourne's hand. One of the same deadly hands grabbed the rat-man by the scruff of the neck, lifted and then smashed hard into the stone floor with bone-breaking force. The old man's glasses went flying into the darkness from the impact, which left him gasping for absent breath. "HARBOURNE!" Szareesh rushed towards him only to be blocked by

"If we are ever going to survive this, we need to be rid of the worst enemy that we stand to face. Our fellow man. The ones that choose to become one with the monsters of this place." I know what it sounds like he's saying. And I know what he's really saying. He's including himself among the monsters. Eruda... I'm so sorry. Staring at the boundlessly lethal knowledge, literally at his fingertips, Freyd found it difficult to resist its allure. His heart recoiled at its contents, but his hand refused to withdraw. The potential was... overwhelming. A flick of his eyes to the red ro

Something... no.. someone long and lanky fell upon them from above. Claws and teeth flensed flesh and shredded into the mate and his guards, tearing their health bars to pieces. He heard Szareesh scream and saw something move at the edge of his vision. A black fist punched through one of his men, grazing the girl's head while unleashing a banshee's keening the likes of which he never would have thought possible. A bright orange swatch, like a brilliant burn, flared as the mouseling's fur and flesh were ripped off and sucked into the liquid void. A burst of fractals showed a man, for an ins