Freyd

"Uh..." Freyd's eyes shifted. "Yeah. That." Hirru's response would serve as a suitable response. The truth was probably closer to a dozen, or more, but there wasn't much point in revealing that. Freyd practically lived in the damned things and had catalogs full of maps available at his disposal. "Thanks for providing the map, Ariel." Any expenditure of resources on his behalf required acknowledgement. Life was transactional, after all, at least from his perspective. Nothing bothered Freyd more than the notion of being in another's debt. But, given that all would benefit from a du

Silence claimed dominion over the room. Freyd hadn't even qualified to attend the preparatory meeting before joining the front lines against the last floor boss, yet here was NIGHT calling him out for support. She wasn't wrong in her assertions, nor general assumptions, but therein lay the problem. The force fielded against Shadow was full of veterans, confident in their power and yearning for battle. It had been a confrontation for the ages, with the boss's reach extending far beyond the chamber where the fight itself played out. The aftermath of those terrible events still scarred their

As predicted, the two fallen serpents churned and bubbled as they fell, instantly converging into a single pool that rose and regained its form. This time, much, larger than before. "Persi! Now!" Already poised and ready, the little inky blotch of blue-eyed goo rose from the the new serpent's shadow as a flurry of boss-devouring badness finally unleashed. The sinewy creature roared in surprise, squirming and writhing as it struggled to even find its assailant. Freyd, on its far side, pounced in turn, battering it with a series of blows. Pools of silver blood splattered like a d

Fish sailed into the forest, forgotten and abandoned as Freyd turned to focus upon the task at hand. Something behind his eyes spoke to Raidou, informing his fellow captain of concerns to be discussed later and elsewhere. Their kinship in spirit and approach served as the conduit to communicate the essentials without requiring words. Reaching over his head and behind his back, he drew forth his infamous weapon. A shaft of pure darkness, roughly six feet long and wrapped in a sanctified seal of light. Freyd himself wondered what would happen if it ever gave way where he held it. Mos

That one definitely caught his attention. It even raised an eyebrow, all on its own. The iris below dwelled upon the crystal still spinning over her her head, less convinced than ever that it was genuine. Suspicion found fertile ground upon which to plant itself and blossom at a later date. Something was definitely off here, but he lacked the dots to be connected, at least for now. She dismissed those who would dare attempt to define her, yet spoke to him strangely as an equal, but on a level so above his pay scale that he couldn't quite fathom. Fate? Was this woman a self-profess

Wandering through the forest, catch in hand, Freyd had spent the better part of the day forcing himself to honor a promise. The memory of his grandfather had come to signify an anchor, or better yet a foundation upon which a person could be built; one not grown from a kernel of rage and hate, but its total opposite. Fishing helped him find peace that so often eluded him, and had become his guilty pleasure - a form of self-inflicted therapy, gladly accepted. A ping. Freya? Eyes of blue, devoid of the usual tension that stretched them to a natural suspicion, opened and reviewed t

"Meh." Freyd's blunt and callous blurt dismissed her argument. "I know strength of will like few others, but it won't protect my face from a solid smashing or slay my enemy with bare hands and glares alone. Tools are the means to exceed our limitations. To dismiss them is to consign yourself yourself to lesser potential. What you describe are traits and talents, innate in nature. They are the intangibles that drive the tools, but they are finite and constrained." He shook his head in response to her assertions. "In battle, the man with the sword carries hope of victory. The

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 [173258] Witch's Brew: none Identifications: 5x T4 Perfect Items (@3040 col) = 15200 col +75000 col for re-rolls. (5 * 15,000 for 4 rerolls apiece) Total Cost: 90200 col Junking: 4x T4 Perfect Item (@1900) = 7600 col Total Value of Junking: 7600 col

"Doubt is the doorway to understand: recognition of that limits can be breached and the unknown beyond explored." Freyd's expression was flat. He was falling into his machine self, cunning and clinical all at once - ruthlessly practical in all things. Watching her refusal accept Zackariah's reward, a notion came to him. "You choose not to choose on the grounds that it will bias the outcome of fate's design, but that act is a choice in and of itself." A flaw, unexpectedly exposed. A contradiction that could only be excused as an act of blind faith - something the Whisper could never accep

"I am the colour of doubt." The statement came, unbidden, from no fathomable source. Freyd just blurted it out like it was supposed to be self-evident. His voice was flat and cold, as he spoke. It carried no malice or frustration, yet felt as if imbued by an overwhelming undercurrent of truth. Hands stuffed firmly into pockets, he wandered several steps behind her, committed by his choice yet wondering how long his interest would endure. For now, mere observation would suffice. He had to admit that it might also be his only option. This woman would not reveal her secrets lightly, or qu

"Sure," he replied, "Whatever you say, Joan." A scene played through of his head, from an old movie titled 'The Messenger'. It was a rendition of the tale of Joan of Arc. Nessa fit the bill, almost too perfectly. She seemed oblivious to her reality, yet tied to some grander fate. Freyd was beginning to doubt whether she was a player at all and perhaps just some mischievous quirk of Cardinal let loose to confuse the absolute shit out of everybody. Her tactics were actually brilliant, but drastically unconventional, to the extent that he struggled to imagine anyone employing th

(I'll put him in, if people at the meeting can convince him.)

"This wasn't here before." Standing on the lower slopes of the lee side of the hill occupied by Snowfrost, this area was usually better sheltered yet somehow less popular for visitors. Having spent an inordinate amount of time on this floor, it occurred to him that he'd never spent much time away from the areas most directly connected to the its many quests, or the homes of his acquaintances. That he could even call some friends warmed his thoughts. Memories of Fortaleza's blazing heat would do the trick, along with Survival skill. Instead of the quiet refuge he had sought, Frey

No. It wasn't. And Freyd was glaring at the source, unimpressed by the boney figure's sudden appearance in the middle of the fight. Neither he nor Hirru were slouches when it came to spotting fine details. The Jade Hunter was arguably the better, and yet this anonymous stranger had snuck up on both of them. And to interrupt with that pun. "Actually, that wasn't half bad," he had to admit. The thing had no visible crystal hovering over its head, no name label, which instantly put Freyd on guard. It was a talent he had deciphered himself, not long ago, though the damned skill seemed

"That's no chain," Freyd spoke, his voice carrying a hint of awe as they approached their destination. What had first appeared to be a massive loop of metal proved to be something far more worrisome. "It's some sort of gigantic metal sea serpent!" Even beneath layers of flotsam and jetsam built up over time by the relentless lapping of waters upon the shore, glimmering silver-like scales could be seen behind the detritus. This thing was massive, and also apparently dead. "It looks... dull? Like it could really use a polish or something. Look up high. There's its head!" Coiled ar

Watching the Jade Hunter's reactions in silence from beneath his cowl, Freyd busied himself by examining the ruins around them. Who had this king been? What tragedy or calamity had led to his downfall? Who was hit interior decorator, and had be been buried somewhere around here for allowing this travesty? Such were the thoughts running through his head. The place had a dry, stale odour, like a giant loaf of hardened bread grown as solid as a brick, yet begging for a bit of moisture so that it might achieve true pungent decay by blooming in mold instead. A few light taps on the ston

Grabbing a thick coil of hemp rope from under the greenhorn's table, Freyd sprung into action, fashioning a pair of improvised grappling hooks. Tossing one to his companion, he dragged his own to the barge's edge and spun it forcefully around. His first toss failed, falling short and forcing him to haul it back. "Where did you find it, and who else was there with you? It sounds like it was quite the fight." Readying the hook for his second attempt, he aimed it at the edge of its upper shell, near the edge where its neck emerged. "So, we're hoping that this thing doesn't just roll

Rarely one to claim any form of moral authority, Freyd felt justified in taking on such a mantle in this rare case. Lun'Rael was an abomination. She betrayed her land, her people, rose again through corruption and filled the heads of her cult-like following with false promise of infinite rebirth. That deserved some seriously deep notches on the 'bad' side of the cosmic ledger, no matter how you kept score. Despite the tragedy of her own tale, she committed herself to this course of action and thereby placed herself beyond any hope of redemption. Watching his guild tearing the monster's fo