Bran

PH <<Assist System Engaged>> Level: 12 Paragon: 0 Tier: 2 True Tier: 2 Final EXP reward: +135% Bran | HP: 240/240 | EN: 42/42 | DMG: 1

The man would sit stoic to her violent outburst, as if he was battle hardened against such things due to the nature of his normal company. "They are not familiars, it is assumed they are players but all accounts or scarce at best. None usually survive an encounter, which moves information gathering to troublesome. They are likely concealed until called." A flick of more into his cup, listening on with a pause as a statement causes him a faint bout of confusion. "He died?" The man would speak in a quizzical tone, as if tasting the sentiment like a wine. The look on Margaret's face told a story,

"Of course." The man offered in a nearly business style acknowledgement of her request. The highway of information was a two way street, and this affiliation survived on its ability to flow. "Freyd, based on our accounts is a member of one of Aincrad's larger guilds. Firm Anima, as I recall" Spoken as he'd pull a collection of parchment, sliding it across the table before moving the codex to apply the cipher. "Most of our eye witness accounts show that he is very 'fluid' in his activities, just as likely to appear on floor 1 as the upper limits." Hayate would offer his guest some more tea, bef

A slide of a small pot of tea would fill the little white platter, allowing the heat to escape in a billowing of steam. A rigid hook would claim it from the table and exhale causing the white trails to bend. "So quick witted." The man expresses before bringing the mixture to his lips. It clicks back onto the table with a rather stern press. Once the screen was shut completely, his senses perk up to assure that their enslaved cook was long out of earshot. Loose lips lead to loose ends. "Margaret." The man would extend an open hand to the seat opposed him if she chose to take it. "News has

Stepping over a branch or two, moving a few branches as he comes upon a small cottage. Glancing around cautiously before grasping the handle, pulling out a key to unlock the door. He knew that he couldn’t stay long, at any time he would get a message for another task. One that had to be done whether he wanted to or not. They knew where his daughter was and reminded him almost daily. Even if he moved her they would find her, they always did somehow. Made him feel like they were watching her, it was another reason he couldn’t stay. Opening the door and closing it behind him, hearing pitter patte

Thread Closure: Mari | [Word Count: 8437/5 = 1687.4] * [True Tier: 11] * [Group Factor: 1]* [Final Exp Modifier: 1.05] = 19489 EXP, Laurel Wreath: 2923 col, 1*Mon Bran | [Word Count: 8437/5 = 1687.4] * [True Tier: 1] * [Group Factor: 1]* [Final Exp Modifier: 1.05] = 1772 EXP, 1*Mon

The gold gleam of the ring on her finger did not go by unnoticed, and reports conveyed the man sneaking around. It actually worked in Lancaster's favor, that he wasn't planning an insurrection and instead he was playing house with a woman. This left even less of a reason for Bran to pull the trigger. The blade moved to her throat, Mari would find it rather easy for her to move. There wasn't much resistance, if anything there was more preventing him from finishing it. The blade itself would coil, this faint trails of black like webbing drifting on a breeze. Eager to end her life, like many befo

"Maybe I should thank whoever holds your rule and order, your boss, your big cheese, whoever it is." Lancaster.... The name raced through his head immediately, if even a word of this reached the ₣₳₵ɆⱠɆ₴₴ ⱠØⱤĐ then the mans head would be on a platter. It could even be Hayate who would be the one to provide it. Messy, like Opal was. A space still not filled, and the thought of having another probable psycho take the seat didn't exactly encourage him to mention it. "I see." The man would offer quizzically, knowing full well that the blade was likely no longer necessary. Her spirit was crushe

Blade held aloft as she'd open her hands, trying to prove she was attempting to parley. "You have a tendency of getting swept up." The man remarked with his eyes narrowing for a brief flicker, you can see the shape of his lips move beneath the mask concealing his cursor. "How very noble of you" His appearance would shift to black hair in a blink of an eye, a lengthy looking Beat still sporting that knife keeping her at about 10 paces. The girl was in her past a ravenous untamed animal, pumped full of her own dope and ratcheted outside of her own mind. It was his opinion that she was too rogue,

The man slid out to the sounds of another NPC being gagged and destroyed, grasping onto the line with both hands and lifting his legs up to it in one fell swoop. Easily the man transitions above it, and skips along the tether like a tight rope. The guards wouldn't manage, and Bran looks back to confirm it. The woman however, clamped to the string with a piece of torn fabric worms her way down the wire albeit precariously. The man would step away from the roofs edge, pointing a blade out toward the woman knowing full well the depths of her madness and her supposed recovery. A frontline puppet.

The wall of fire cut off their flank but within the busy streets of Scalabis, there were so many avenues for them to start clambering down. The answer was getting up and out of the standard fare. A glint of his eye sees it transition to a yellow almost cat like glow, and he looks toward a nearby tavern. Without warning Mari would find her bag get just a tad bit lighter, cupped in his palm a little vial of clear liquid. The cigarette in her hair, he sparks the match and tosses the thing into the locked door causing the occupants to scream. The door weakened by the flame, he'd twist his shoulder

Dropping square out into the street, he'd look up to lock eyes with the Pink PK'er of all people. Eyes narrow as he'd murmur beneath his breath "You." but the screaming of the guards at his flank immediately forced him to keep running. The man was already on edge, and this city was about to become a hornets nest of guardsman rushing down on them. Unlike players they could be harmed, but the droves of them would not stop in the slightest. The crack of glass would see him scan his peripheral and see a cloud of yellow smoke, cutting off the pursuit but is quickly replaced by another battalion rus

A long and bitter round of extortion, of the multitude of nobles that were made fat with coin and with a little bit of pressure would part with it. His men had already toted away quite a bit of these ill gotten gains, yet this city was a vast place where the harvest remained fruitful. Sliding in and out of crowds and slipping into structures to which held exorbitant wealth, wasteful and excessive. The cloth cover over his the lower half of his face concealed his marker, his appearance and left only those cool and commanding black colored eyes above it. The faint outline as it traced his featur

« Endless Caverns ?? » The ever dark depths that stretched on for miles would offer all that would foolishly wander them no safety or guidance. Small gatherings of markings drudged through them, carving down creatures as they'd respawn and keeping the little threshold clear. Some green, some orange but all aligned in goals that needed to be secreted away from the masses. The rough cavern walls drudged in an near endless absence of light, only small stones held would provide the ability to see. Any that stumbled upon this place would see themselves carved to pieces or fed to the nightmaris

Profile: Username: Bran Real name: Hayate Oiwa Age: 26 Gender: Male Height: 6'0 Background: Hayate Oiwa is a long descendant of Hattori Hanzō. A ripe young boy cast immediately into a mold fit for his blood, he was offered no solace nor kindness. Every day was one of difficulty, of growth through unending physical and mental conditioning. Such frivolous things as school, teaching came second to his upbringing. However near his teenage years he would be shown interest in a woman by the name of Hitomi Izumi. Eventually she'd convince him to slide away at any possible moment, p