Foyle

A trio of shots in quick succession, each thunked heartily into the demon king's chest. His balance teetering, one final step back proved his literal downfall as he tripped over Jeeves' low-tech improvised trap. Fire-ridden, Ravana tumbled ass over tea kettle, bringing down his own tent in the process. Flames leapt from his scorched and broken shell, screams of anger and frustration unleashing impotent fury that only spread the flame faster. Within seconds, the pavilion was gone and the demon king with it. The demon girls ceased their dancing, uncertain what more was expected of them,

Spotting his captain rounding right, Foyle moved to flank from the left, hoping to find a clearer shot from Ren's far side. Unfortunately, the dancing demon-girls were making that challenging, and he was still concerned that they might turn on the party any instant. Also, as impressive as Ren and Jeeves' first strikes had been, readily hampering their opponent, they seemed to lack their usual punch. Less optimal than his usual direct approach, the archer had found himself wondering whether the straightforward appeal of his shift choice might need to be reconsidered. Something for futur

"Hmpff... hope that means my bow will still be useful. Shooting fire at things native to a fiery realm doesn't seem likely to be very effective." "Not necessarily," Ren replied, eager to reassure. "Resistances remain a rarity, at least in most of the content we've encountered thus far. And your new weapon has a few other tricks on offering. I'm sure you'll be fine, Foyle." The old man nodded with gratitude, nuances of gaming still largely eluding him. He kept trying to treat Aincrad like the real world and bumping into its more unusual conceits. "Ah. Alrighty then. I'll

“Thirteen…“ “Fourteen…” “Fifteen…” One by one, eldritch horrors had their eyes turned into the prize of dart boards as a hail of pointy death with black and red fletching punctured each one in turn. Nested on high ground with perfect vantage over their surroundings, Foyle felt like he was the one floating in the barrel and surrounded by an ocean of fish. There was certainly no shortage of targets. “Sixteen…” The land itself wriggled and writhed in every direction as the tentacled horde undulated, tightening its grip over their few remaining holdings. Every

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"Any word on when the raid will begin, Freyd? You mentioned it was likely to be soon." An undertone of concern worked its way into the older man's voice. "If there's anything you might need us to do while you and the rest of the frontliners are engaged with it, please let us know." Landing a powerful blow against the lion's muscled shoulder, Foyle knew the burden of going to war. He'd served, and though he'd never had to face true active combat, peacetime carried its own share of threats, traumas and challenges. A few friend had been lost along the way. Ren caught wind of his words

Roaring its discontent, the Nemean pounced towards Freyd, only to fall flat onto this furry face when it discovered that Foyle's last shot had pinned its bushy tail to an adjacent tree. Sure, it yanked the entire tree out of the ground, but the moment was still pricelessly hilarious.. "Captain. I see another pride on patrol to the east. They might be heading towards us." Eagle eyes astute as always Foyle was rapidly turning into the group's AWACS, calling out approaching threat well before they become a problem. He'd done it most recently while they faced off against the early waves

As chaos cleared and the field boss' initial outburst of sand and fury abated, Foyle was better able to take advantage. Ren had done his bit and curb stomped the thing, denying its most potent defense and exposing it to their next wave of attacks. Streak and after vermillion streak lanced from his new weapon as contrails of sooty black filled the space between him and his foe. Every impact wracked its serpentine body with fiery spasm, making him wonder what the hell Ren had poured into the weapon he now wielded. "Hey, Ren. Does this thing have an off switch? It almost feels overtuned

Like a flailing death noodle, Hebishinu was upon them in an instant, scattering Freyd and Ren, attempting to force them apart so that its mobility would keep them from pinning it down. Blinding sand sprayed ceaselessly as it sought every advantage in keeping them from drawing a bead. Thinking back to his martial arts training, Foyle calmed his breathing and trusted to the enhancements built into Perdition's Reach. It had been made for moments like this, to strike true despite impossible odds, and bring low their enemies. Wrath embalming a flaming extension of his will streaked into the

Testing the fiery pitch and drawstring of Ren's latest gift, Foyle nodded appreciatively. He'd been quite content with his old bow, despite assurances from his fellows that this new one was a considerable and important upgrade. "Why would I throw away something perfectly serviceable?!" The rest of the group chuckled at his utterly predictable response, even as he grinned wryly back their way. "Thank you, Ren. It's a precious gift. I'm very grateful, and look forward to putting it to use on today's hunt." Turning to his captain, Foyle's scrutiny immediately focused on their quarries.

"On it!" Darting left, Foyle knocked and locked, taking aim as he ran and finding his mark perfectly. Arrow lodged at the ball joint between its deltoid and traps, he'd found the perfect chink in its armor. Eladriel shrieked, not even pretense of humanity in the abhorrent sound as it reverberated on the surrounding stones. "Who the hell makes these things, anyway?" "You don't want to know," came Ren's reply, trying to hold focus on himself just long enough for Freyd to finish his wraparound. "Just look at twenty nine and ask yourself the same question. They're no shortage of inspirati

Like a meteor streaking between them Foyle's shot struck precisely through the big bird's fiery heart. Loosed with the purest of intention, Foyle felt an inkling of pride as the mob fell, only to falter slightly as the thing's corpse combusted. An instant later, it was reborn as a creature of pure eldritch fire, blazing back to life between the others. "Damn. Sorry! Should have warned you!" He wasn't actually expecting the effect to be quite so explosive. As the brimstone cleared, the rest of the party appeared unharmed, though maybe a little singed along the edges. They still had

Flying true, black and red fletching spiraling towards their goal, Foyle's shot found its mark and plunged right through it, shattering their quarry like an AR-15 might a slumbering goose. Fish in a barrel might be harder, by comparison. "That'll be five col, squirt." Jeeves looked about ready to protest when he realized how his hated nickname had been avoided. He'd also lost, fair and square, flicking a coin through the air to be deftly caught by the archer's hand. "Where to next, captain, and maybe we should skip your shortcuts this time, for our companion's sake. I believe

"Hai!" String drawn and released, Foyle's missile found its mark, exactly as instructed. Catching the queen mid freefall, he hadn't expected to see her defeated so quickly and stared wide-eyed as only fractal remains reached the ground. "That.. that was it?" "Yup," clapped the captain, suddenly standing at his side. "You've already surpassed most of what we're likely to encounter today, though the system would have you think it's beyond you. Watch. Learn. See how combining your attacks can have an added impact. Then, imagine what could be done if all of Aincrad could actually

Grindstone | [1 Token] -3 Field Boss Post Count requirements; reduces this value to a minimum of 1 post. Stacks with Spyglass. Applicable for one Field Boss Spawn, after which the buff expires.

Nodding and marching in lock step with his captain, Foyle absorbed everything like a dutiful sponge. Freyd had seen more than most, so he'd be foolish to turn aside experience so freely shared, but Foyle's own age made keeping up with ever-changing game dynamics a challenge. He just wasn't used to it anymore. At least learning archery seemed to suit him better then the melee weapons most players preferred. Weighing the curved wood in his hands, he oiled the tool regularly, and with great care. Every piece of his equipment, in fact, was in utterly immaculate condition. Even where worn and w

Perfectly improvised plans crumpled almost instantly as the battle risked flipping from their favour to very much against it. Freyd was suddenly and violently removed from the field, to who knows where. But that was a later problem. The rest of them were instantly back on their own, now facing two Spectral Knights and the threat of a total rout mere yards around the corner. Swapping targets, in keeping with his captain's last command, Foyle's bow shot pierced the newest mob's shiny noggin, shattering its entire form and spilling it like a ruptured bag of marbles, shards spraying in eve

Sparing another shot for their main target, Foyle pivoted on his perch to focus his scouting instincts toward the approaching horde. There were many. Far too many. This wasn't some backwater orc patrol on a single digit floor, but a tide of abhorrent tentacle-ridden wrongness backed by max tier stats looking to bowl them all over and devour them. "Never enough arrows in the world, are there?" Not a gripe. More of an observation. Foyle was grateful for the fact that his quiver auto-refilled from his inventory, as wave after wave of pointy-ended death flew from his fingertips, hoping

Flailing as it fell, Foyle added extra insult to the mob's growing list of injuries by pinning its massive for to ground with additional well-placed arrows. Two limbs managed, before the others closed ranks to wail upon the thing in melee, the white-haired veteran had already knocked another bit of fletcher's fodder and was taking aim for future targets. "I have a shot! Stand clear whenever it starts to rouse itself again." Trusting that they'd heard him, Foyle was suddenly distracted by movement to the east. More mobs. Lots of them. A horde of the floor's more common shambling horr

Drawing back, Foyle unleashed arrows in lightning succession, peppering their quarry with black and red fletching the punctured its strange glassy hide with relative ease. A dozen shafts stuck from the Knight, brandished at all angles, as if it were too dense to notice. That, or his attacks just weren't having much effect. Loosening another shot, this one found its mark in the thing's shoulder and pierced clean through to the far side. Another mild notch of its health bar vanished in response, but not nearly enough. When Ren stumbled, Foyle's jaw clenched. There was nothing he could

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They might never have caught up with their quarry if it hadn't barreled straight into the ruins of an old blacksmith shop and become tangled up in spools of wire, rope and assorted other materials left abandoned in the wake of whatever became of this floor's residents. As the miniature glassware colossus struggled against its own mess, Foyle felt the first inklings of a plan forming in the back of his mind. "Circle around it. We need to keep it tangled as long as we can. If it breaks loot, Ren will need to draw it towards him while Jeeves and I whittle it down." There were a lot of assu

Following Wulfrin's instructions, Foyle speared the overgrown, flaming cockatoo seconds after it was stunned and before its feathers had even hit the ground. he even sacrificed his own footing to ensure a suitable blow was dealt as early as possible, fumbling and tumbling to keep from snapping his bow in half by accidentally bowling it over. Instead, the aged, white-haired scout stretched out into a lateral roll, thankful not to have accidentally speared himself on any wayward shards of protruding obsidian. "Did I hit it?" Face and body covered in Stay-puff worthy levels of soot and as

"A fine plan, Master Wulfrin." No sooner had the swordsman's shatter taken effect than Foyle loosed another arrow towards their foe. But where the first had taken advantage of the demon's dazed state, it had already recovered and interposed its own unnaturally solid arms to block his shot. "Jeeves! It's getting up. Quick, see if you can't finish it off. I don't like the idea of what those blades could do if its bears them down on our tank." Rolling left to flank the boss, in case another shot were somehow required, Foyle cursed his poor fortune while pushing the outcome into the

"Oh, yes, erm..." "Wulfrin," Freyd chimed in, filling in the awkwardly obvious fumble. "I know," Foyle retorted, albeit free of harshness. "I was just trying to recall when we'd last met. It was the mountaintop near Urbus, along with that other fellow. The martial arts training mission." Eyes scanning Wulfrin's paradoxically imbued blade, he stared at its wondrously. "Amazing, isn't it? What this world renders possible? Hmmmf. Makes me wonder what I might do with this trifling trinket, when the time comes." Icingdeath led the charge and to excellent effect, breaking the