Freyd

@Koga No luck. Sorry. Items sold for junk. Results can be found here, for reference: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/19579-freyds-evaluations/?do=findComment&comment=644715

Either unwilling to bite, or simply clueless to his partner's intent - you could never really tell, with Freyd - he pointed to the wastelands and led them across its beleaguered landscapes in search of the Ashen Keep. "You've been off the radar for a bit. Life been busy? Buried beneath the honey-do list? Other references not suitable for a PG audience?" Delivery was deadpan, as usual, but a small smile had perched itself upon the Whisper's lips. He knew Oscar to be a mix of sour pragmatism and goofy antics, shaken without stirring, then served swaddled in that crappy wax paper wrap t

"Taste?" Freyd was about as far as you could get from being a foodie. Consumption was a means to an end. He rarely paused to consider the significance of flavour. His goals were either sustenance or buffs. Why else would he have a collection of healing potions in his pockets labeled 'Lich Loogeys', and mitigation meals made up of Pure Unadulterated Rage? "Huh. How novel. Also, I would have expected MIT buffs to be in high demand." Shrugging shoulders dismissed any potential or interest in further discourse on the matter. Freyd had filed away a list of future purchases for the next

It was her tone that caught his attention. Few realized how sensitive Freyd was to sound - his Whisper moniker being no quirk of choice. Watching as she slowly caught up, his eyes caught those of the broken broker behind her. Pre-programmed angst tore through his features. A phial sailed through the air and the boy caught it with his one good arm, wondering at the contents and intent. "It will heal your wounds, but fair warning: it tastes like undead ass." The hard edges softened. "I know you can't help it, but try not to do that again." His gift and declaration met with confusion,

Evals for items provided by Koga in shop: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/19871-f13-appraiser-freyd-edges-open/?do=findComment&comment=644687 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: 173277 Witch's Brew: (1/2) https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/21110-f22-pp-double-wammy-witch-of-the-west/?do=findComment&comment=

A black-gloved hand gripped the dagger sticking out of his chest, flashbacks recalling the time when another player had done the same deed. He'd nearly killed her for it, her life having been spared by the fear and desperation in her eyes and a prior commitment of friendship. Clattering loudly as it hit a nearby outcrop of stone and skipped into the lava beyond, Freyd raised his staff, pointing the tip menacingly at the mob's face. The containment seal on his weapon sizzled and crackled, struggling to hold against the hunger within, reinforced by its wielder's own impulses. The sound

Freyd spent most of their walk responding with one-word answers, or just a look when he could get away with it. Every once in a while, he'd chime in with some deep thinker crap to let Eruda know that he was actually listening to every word she said. Smalltalk just wasn't his thing, but he indulged her. She'd clearly needed it. And, though he was loathe to admit it, it was nice. When the time came, Freyd watched the elder make his way to shelter. The man's weathered form reminded him too much of the lone member of his own family that he'd ever cared for. Thank goodness the air was so

"Yeah," came the dry reply. "That sounds like Nisa. The woman's bat-shit-savant kind of crazy. Thinks she's Fate, with a capital 'F'." He shrugged at the declaration, as if her oddity was no issue. "She's clever, though. I'll give her that. In a cunning sort of way - and she knows it too. Don't believe that she's as innocent and harmless as she appears." Listening to Eruda's recounting of her encounter, Freyd remained silent. "She called me her messenger. Not really sure why, but it was a long time ago, now, or seems to be. Never quite figured out what she meant by

A stranger, darkly dressed, slipped into her quaint blue shop, the final vestiges of a cup of crème brûlée passing into his lips. A try full of the things clutched under his arm, he started scoping the various wares on display, muttering their effects to himself at a glance, not even bothering to read the carefully manicured labels. Haste was clearly a factor, judging by the way he leaned forward as he walked and the heaviness of footfalls from someone dressed more appropriately for stealth. "I don't happen to see any MIT foods. Do you not prepare them, or are you merely out of stock?"

"Tricked?" Feigned injury could ooze, apparently, if you tried hard enough. "I would choose a more generous and beneficial term, but if that's how you feel, why don't you just ask him." Freyd pointed at the small hunched figure huddled hiding behind a nearby outcrop of rock and compressed ash. "And Cardinal is Hephaestus in this particular drama. The lame god is just another tool, wielded by us and against us. You can choose to 'live' however you wish. I spent a long time choosing not to choose, myself. It was a mistake. I hope your 'chooses' go differently for you, and hopef

"Whao, whao! Easy, Tex. I don't have any answers for you! Me stopping back there was only the connecting of the second dot. I'm going to need more time, and a heck of a lot of crayons to piece this picture together. Give me some time. I promise to let you know what I find. Trust me. This is what I do." Nodding his head repeatedly as he spoke, Freyd strove to reassure her that everything would be fine. Repetitive stress injury was becoming a very grave risk by the time Zamek finally found his errant stash. Returning to them with tears in his eyes, the man clutched a stack of aged

"You're connected to her." It was a statement backed by certainty. He didn't know how, but he'd only felt such a splintered connection once before, when searching for Tuatha. Its position had been revealed as a place he had already come to know: Freya's home. "So is Freya." Freyd face soured as he spoke, which could easily have meant he was happy. The man's expressions made little sense, as if they stemmed from some bizarro-world reality where everything was backwards, except also tweaked just enough to break the pattern and confuse the absolute shit out of you. "There are o

Freyd grinned with such mischief that the Cheshire cat himself would be jealous. "I have no idea why you would take such a risk, given that safe zones are never truly that. They just give the false impression for comfort's sake. It's not my place to judge, even though I probably will anyway. You're a grown woman and can make your own choices." "That said," he pointed to the fading clouds of shard from the mobs she'd just devastated slowly drifted down upon the ashen landscape. "You are a player, Mina. In here, that grants you the potential of a god that would make Hercul

"Ehh..." Freyd seemed hesitant to drudge up such distant memories, but Eruda was a friend. "Yeah. That definitely sounds like Nisahime. She's what we call in the business, 'a weird one'." He even made the little air quotes with his hands to confirm the veracity of the claim. "Honestly, she puts Raidou's better oddities to shame. I'm also not entirely convinced that she's actually a player, which carries some pretty damned big consequences, if true. She had a green icon." He let that comment sit and stew for a bit, pulling a small canteen from his inventory and savoring a long dra

"To get you some better gear. You've tiered up, which means new options are open to you." He led the way from the small cluster of hovels that were nestled as close to the portal as they could. "You still haven't really answered why you wouldn't wear armor, or why Jon would be upset if you did. Forgive my persistence, but this seems rather important towards figuring out your odds of survival. What's the deal?" You don't get to be the captain of a guild's spy branch without being persistent about crucial information. Freyd wanted a why, and wasn't about to let up. He was also well

Freyd arrived just in time to tick the quest log and watch the gory drama unfold on the field below. He hardly paid attention, preferring to catch up with an old friend who'd gone dormant for awhile. "Been awhile, Oscar. Thought you might be dead. Checked. Glad you weren't." So much for small talk. He'd given it his best shot. Turning his attention to the bloody mess being left in the valley, Freyd pointed to the nearby captain. The NPC would intervene, shortly, driving off the foreshadowed villain who was currently tearing up his men. "Don't worry," he offered. "We get to beat

Results: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/19579-freyds-evaluations/?do=findComment&comment=644627 @Oscar

"Uhh... that could be a lot of people, in the right conditions. Hidden? Assassin? Cordelia? Ariel? Nisa?" Counting on his fingers somehow helped to link their images and names. "I suppose that you could add a few others, too." Glancing over casually as she picked up the old man, an observation slipped. "Griswold's daughters have their father's strength." A rare compliment, candidly given and heartfelt. Both women had endured their respective shares of the same trauma, each from a different perspective. Freyd didn't know all of the details. He didn't need to. It was enough to

Skill(s) Being Dropped: Hiding R3 Mod(s)/Addon(s) Being Dropped: Untraceable SP Incurred Towards Limit: 14 SP SP Refunded: 18 SP Cost: 18000 col

A smile suppressed, Freyd had recognized the dungeon's pattern, but Mina's reaction sealed the deal. They must have been pulled into its bounds from the moment they left the edge of Coral's safe zone. Nine levels, though, that was rather remarkable and out of keeping with his own experiences. "Aincrad is always changing," he admitted. "We need to change with it. For what it's worth, I think you're making the right call and that Jon will understand." Rosa's shop had largely been restored by the time they arrived. A half-dozen apologies, and promise to buy out all of her stock, fi

Freyd was still staring at the loot summary from the recently obliterated first wave. Was his luck really this bad? The results were quite abysmal, especially given the number of looted mobs, and he'd been finding this to be a persistent problem of late. It all started when... "Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk... sorry pal, you're out of luck!" "YOU! I'm gonna frikkin murder you, you little bag of post-digestion content! What the hell are you doing? Nevermind. Don't care. I'm putting you in the ground!" His companions had already engaged another group around the corner, but Freyd was overly

"Did something similar happen to my sister? What was in her..." Well, it's kinda more specific, isn't it? Freyd's gaze glanced casually down at his shadow, making it look as if he were sheltering his eyes from the sands. "Why are you asking me these questions instead of just asking Freya?" It was an honest and fair rebuttal. The winds were increasing in speed and intensity as the full brunt of the storm fell upon them. Pulling his cowl tight to his face and lifting a mask as well, Freyd had all but retreated behind his clothing. "I think we need to clear up another quest