Freyd

Flipping open the lid on his latest catch, Freyd barely noticed as the contents spilled into his inventory. "Vayl. My name is Vayl. And, uh... Mari's kind of wandered off. I'm not really sure how I ended up here. Some Captain Nemo person invited me in, and I guess I sorta figured that he might have offered the same to Mari, so I followed." Freyd looked completely unimpressed. "Let me get this straight. You have no idea where Mari is, so you just decided to wander Aincrad randomly on the off chance that you might bump into her?" If Montjoy could speak, Freyd expected th

"Holy shit!" 'Sir Flabbergast' seemed a bit too agog to have much combat experience, or maybe he was just easily impressed. Returning to his seat and plopping himself down onto the same spot, Freyd couldn't help but wonder if the game would eventually imprint his butt-cheeks into the stone if he stayed here long enough. Probably not, but the thought was amusing. A casual shrug was all he offered to the stranger. "What's your name, anyway? Please don't say Lancelot." "Uh... what? No. I'm...err... Vayl. My name is Vayl!" "You anxious about something, Vayl?" A single r

A quick spin and lateral strike sent the Hand spiraling sideways and left a deep rut in Eden's previously pristine lawn. Nemo wouldn't be happy, but that was a problem for later. Lunging forward and holding his staff like a spear, Freyd stuck the mob mid-knuckle, where the middle finger met the hand. It seemed like some sort of equivalent to its solar plexus, but the damned thing's anatomy was so weird that there was no true comparison. It could just be like a hand. Freyd scowled at his shadow, whose mocking sarcasm was not appreciated. These things were like the nuisance weeds o

"Oh, we met at the Tanabata event last year. It's a bit of a weird story. You should ask her, if you get the chance. My name's Freyd. She'll probably curse when you mention it, but we both know that's her most obvious sign of affection." He delivered the entire spiel with a pleasant smile on his face and without missing a beat. Their was far more complicated, though there was a sufficient kernel of truth to his words that it suffused the rest and passed muster. Freyd and Mari has a tenuous past, mainly due to the strange notion he had that she was a hero in waiting - deep, deep waiting

'Lancelot' blinked, as if Freyd had just slapped him across the face with a wet fish. His eyes mirrored the internal struggle between his brain, perceptions and expectation. A complete stranger who knew Mari by vague description was not at all what he'd expected. "I....er...umm... yes?!" The man had a naive, knightly air about him that made Freyd think he was just a kid, despite his considerable stature. It was likely some manner of overcompensation, or romantic infatuation with noble ideals. 'Poppycock', he thought to himself while maintaining a distinctly neutral expression. "How.

"Are those things as ridiculous as they look?" A stranger's voice came at him from the left, and not without warning. The man's heavy armor clanked so loudly that Freyd wondered if it was meant to be some new form of hate mechanic. "So far? Yes, actually." For a quiet, out of the way spot, he seemed to be attracting a fair share of visitors. "Are you looking for someone?" "Erm... yeah. Kinda." The new arrival' whose garb was slightly reminiscent of a knight's templar, save without the red cross, reached up and ran a heavy gauntlet through his hair. He was a stout one, f

"Did it just wonk at me?" Freyd wasn't sure what the sound was meant for, and even less sure of who he was supposed to be asking. The Gilded Hand was stuck, for lack of a better description, pinned beneath his staff and a large rock. "Please tell me that wasn't a whimper. Do mobs whimper now?!" He tried shaking it off, to no avail. Bracing a foot against on of the backs of its fingers, it occurred to him that the most dangerous part of the mob was likely behind it, in the direction towards which all of its joints bent. Short of surprising flexibility, the things simply weren't const

His staff's impact nearly split the hand in two, just from the force of blunt trauma inflicted. The damage to the creature's mesh was brutal and extensive, reminding him of a scene in one of the classic terminator movies, where this liquid metal dude had been completely blasted apart by a grenade, but was still walking around. Except, in this case, it was walking on fingers. So weird. Addled by the blow, the hand just stood, staggered, in its current place. Its eyes had ended up at different ends of its sundered shell and we staring off in opposite directions, which was no doubt s

The rod gave jiggle and judder that had already become familiar in the Whisper's gaze and memory. A golden hand, nearly six feet tall, spawned a few feet away within seconds. "How are newbies ever going to benefit from fishing if you lot keep showing up all the time? Don't you know that it's rude to interrupt someone's vacation, regardless of whether its official?!" The hand just blinked, which was weird to even consider. "Alright. Looks like I'm just going to have to get used to this. At least the rewards were good, even if not particularly needed, thanks to past efforts. More nev

"More goodies," he added, smiling to himself. Freyd was never truly jubilant. It just wasn't in his nature. Dour? Sure. Distant? Just about always. Considerate? More often than you would think, assuming he could actually process the mood. Sometimes, it just didn't register. Lack of frame of reference could be a problem. He might even laugh at a given circumstance or situation, but often only for its paradoxical nature or as a result of some exercise in wit. He had a penchant for intellectual humour, and no appreciation for foolish impulses or poor choices. People ought to know bet

It turned out to be Nemo, wandering by again as part of his regular gardening duties. "How are you enjoying things? I hope that the clouds haven't dampened your experience?" Freyd smiled at the play on words, while politely acknowledging his host. "I've had no complaints. Though I had been meaning to ask: what's with all these Gilded Hand things that keep cropping up?" Nemo tilted his head like a lot puppy, somehow failing to recognize the name, or Freyd's meaning. "They are a part of this place, as is everything else. Has there been a problem?" "Well... n

Another quick tap yielded more loot to be added to the tally. How many of these things would he find? Between the Hands and the chests - the eerie possibility of other body parts adding to the mix drifted through his mind - it seemed rather difficult to actually focus on catching actual fish. Not that the fish turned out to be 'fish', per se. The game just interpreted it as an anonymous widget of 'stuff' that could be converted into other stuff by applying some process to it. It was typical video-game logic, really, and not at all jarring to someone with extensive gaming experience, unti

Clouds passed overhead, casting a pattern of shadows upon the ground that came and went with regularity over Freyd's rock. This place could actually be quite serene, if you let yourself enjoy it. A pair of six-foot tall metallic, bat-like things swooped down nearby and decimated some poor critter. Freyd took note to avoid those, and let the illusion of bliss slip back over him again. Even Eden had its problems, it seemed, but he wasn't here to solve them. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet for a change, and the opportunity to still his mind when he needed it. Persi purred. M

*WHOMP* *CRASH* *POP* One hit was all it took. Well-targeted and effective, he snared the mob between two digits, lifting it off the ground and slamming it into a nearby tree. It exploded like a child's water balloon. As nice as it was to receive the loot, none of it was ever going to be of any use to him. "Still, it might be nice if I could make some of this useful for a few friends." Persi flit her tail around, twice, as if in agreement. "We could probably put together a half-decent kit for a lot of low-tiered players if this drop rate keeps up." Sparing a mome

Watching his friend slowly wander down the same meandering trail that brought them together in the first place, Freyd was glad to have met him. There was something wise and forthright about Quaestor, like a solemn sincerity that told you he could be relied upon, even in the very darkest of hours. Fate had certainly been unkind to the man, but his spirit seemed to finally be on the mend. There was life in his face and his step, that had previously come across as a shadow of itself. Now, it shone. Turning his gaze back to the pond and creek before him, Freyd lazily reeled in his line, al

"Don't let it get you down, Quaestor. Admittedly, it sucks that you're likely to have to start leveling back up from scratch, but you have friends and allies to help you with that." Freyd nodded, confirming his intent to help in any manner possible, even as he cast his line once more into the trickly, bubbling water before them. "Thanks again, my friend." Quaestor stood and summoned his weapon once more, staring towards the unknown lingering on every horizon. "If this little scene is any indication, fishing might not be practical or healthy for me." "Heh. Yeah. I get that, an

Quaestor just chuckled as he leaned back and watched Freyd go to town on the poor mob, which promptly fell apart beneath an unforgiving onslaught of blows that utterly shattered its form. 'The things surely can't be that fragile,' he thought to himself, watching the pinata-like creature flail in a failed attempt at self-defense. He and the rest of the Madrigal would eventually encounter the same creatures, and it was worth studying how they fared against his friend - which meant poorly. Somehow, he suspected that any attempt to tackle such a foe in the their current, degraded states wo

"Sounds a bit like Gaius, but in a different vein." Quaestor didn't get the reference, and Freyd casually dismissed the comparison as irrelevant. "Let's just say that I know the type. Dump ten thousand teens and young adults into a deathtrap MMO, and you're bound to find some common qualities and patterns before long." "True, but he's a good mate; just a bit of a loner is all. We give him his room and he always comes back to us, and is always there when we need him." Freyd sensed movement in the water. A pattern was already becoming familiar, even as his staff materialized back

Another chest popped into existence at his side, and a casual bop on the top of the box yielded up its contents. Persi purred with glee as it did so. "What about Typhon? He's the one I really know the least about." "Oh, Cooper? He'd alright. Just our resident wild-child, is all. For everything that's happened, he seems to be taking it all in stride. The guy's only real attachments are to those crazy monster-getups he so loves to make. Miri calls him her 'cosplay maniac,' and she's not far off the mark. It wouldn't surprise me if he's spent every minute since his return scouri

Persi pawed playfully a few times at his knee, as he returned to his seat. Her rock was still nice and warm, though, and she had no intention of leaving her prized spot in the sun. "What have Miri and the others been up to?" A change of topic was both warranted and welcome. 'Too much drama spoils the fish', as his grandfather used to say. The man was a saint. Too bad Freyd only realized it after he got trapped in here. Quaestor caught the drift and went with it. "She's been redecorating my place for three weeks straight. I hardly recognize my own home anymore." There wasn't a

Without bothering to do anything but treat it as a target, Freyd charged the hand and beat it silly with a flurry for forceful blows so vicious that it fell within seconds of completing its spawn. It was Quaestor's turn to let his eyes go wide. "Uh, I don't recall you managing to do that very easily against the glitches." Freyd smiled, retuning to his seat after plundering the thing's loot. "The odds of it occurring seem to have improved." "Huh," Quaestor replied, coming to grips with the growth he'd seen since first meeting the man who sat beside him now. "I suppose you'

"You'd have that, regardless of my answer." Freyd turned his head to catch Quaestor's eyes with his own. The intensity of his gaze communicated everything that latter would ever need to understand the depth of his devotion. "But, I've already made other commitments that can't so easily be broken or dismissed." His words were slow and measured, even well-considered, given the suddenness of the request. "Firm Anima have become my family, in much the same way as you are trying to rebuild yours. What would it say about my loyalty and responsibility if I just cast them casually aside?"

"What are you working very hard at not asking me, Quaestor?" There was no point in beating about the bush. If his friend needed resources, in the way of mats or col, he would gladly provide... "We'd all like you to join." Persi's head popped up, her blue eyes instantly alerted by the sudden tension set to Freyd's shoulders. To his credit, the rod in his hands didn't so much as twitch. The gravity of the request was still sinking in. Slowly, Freyd reached up and pulled back his cowl. Such was the magnitude of the moment that he did so willingly, though his eyes remain deadlocked

"We're thinking of putting the Madrigal back together." The statement ended abruptly, like a follow-up was waiting, but refusing to emerge. "That's good?" Freyd's confusion mixed with caution, given the touchiness of the subject. The original Madrigal guild had fallen apart - been picked apart by PKers and other guilds in the aftermath of Miri and Typhon's vanishing. Quaestor had been too heartbroken, and Jeeves too meek, to do anything to prevent it. One tragedy compounded another and both men were soon left with shattered worlds. For Jeeves, it meant joining the Brokers, secretly

"Problem?" Quaestor handed Freyd back the rod. "No? Not especially, I think. More of a possibility to be explored to good potential effect." He cast the line again, wondering what the drop rate for these mobs might be. Between the plentiful chests and gloriously blinged out mobs, fishing was turning out to be nothing like what he'd expected. But, this was Aincrad, and things didn't always need to be predictable, or even make any sense at all, if he was honest with himself. "So, how did you end up in here?" "I found some weirdo hanging around my stock room. Nearly pummeled