Foyle

"Oh, I'm completely wet behind the ears, Mas...err, Wulfrin," Foyle admitted, sheepishly. "My time in the field could be measured in days." As if on cue, the older man stumbled, throwing off his punch in the most rookie way possible and causing him to fall to his knees. Laughing at this own clumsiness, Foyle took the fumble in stride, laughing as he recovered his footing, patting dust and dirt from his soiled clothing. "I served in the defense forces in my early days. Compulsory service was normal at the time, at least in our region." Eyes grew distant for a moment, staring at the cl

"Not a problem," Foyle replied, maintaining steady breathing. He knew this test was as much about endurance as their ability to destroy their target. Xianjing's tests had essentially confirmed it. "And you would have done the same for me, Master Wulfrin. I have no doubt." Taking his opportunity when the time came, Foyle watched in wonder as the phoenix soared between them to rake the stone with its claws, never having considered the possibility that other forms of attack were even possible, let alone legal within the confines of their task. "This game's fickle nature will surely

"I've seen too many variations of 'killed by a boar' on the Monument of Life to consider feeding these things." Struggling a moment to remember the proper interface procedures, Foyle finally figured it out. The adjustment was minor, but he'd been informed by a reliable source that this would be the best order of battle, when the time came. "Alright. We saw them in the fields earlier. If this is what is required, then let's simply get it done." No complains and no quarter. Spoken like a man who'd lived a long life of service filled with drudgery. No one ever wanted the dirty or tedious

Their respective tasks completed, at least to whatever extent Master Xianjing expected or was prepared to tolerate, Wulfrin and Foyle were both called upon to face off against the academy's final challenge. They'd already spent the better part of the day completing their training. While it hadn't seemed that long, few quests felt like they exacted such a physical toll as much as this one did. "You've done remarkably well today," the master praised. "Mostly." A sideways glance sent Wulfrin's way seemed unfair, given the elements of chance baked into the system. "Master Wulfrin

Spotting Foyle managing more advanced poses wit the Tai-Chi group, Master Xianjing called him over to participate in a different drill. Guiding several adepts behind the mouth of a nearby waterfall, he bade each of them kneel on the slick rock outcrop. "Cleanse and purify your will," was all the instruction they were given. Some sat akimbo, reflecting on the lessons they had learned under their master's tutelage. Others dove through the waters, plummeting to the pools below, having completely missed the point. Foyle was the last to arrive, pausing to ponder how best to address the cha

Grateful for Nymoria's description, the old man listened attentively while admiring the patience and care in her cadence, where the system filtered out any tone. "Ah! I see, now. It's reminds me much more of the bonzai I care... cared for. Thank you for putting it this way. I think, perhaps, I was not appreciating the ways in which this world could mimic our own." Bending down on one knee near a tiny cluster of fairy foxglove, Foyle tenderly cupped the fledgling plant with his fingers. Tugging gently to keep it whole, root and shoot came up easily into his hands, greeted by the smil

Thanking Wulfrin for his assistance reaching the top of the cliff, Foyle could only admire the man's pet from afar. "I can see how such a creature would prove useful. Are they difficult to care for?" Images of a of a pet regularly combusting in one of his tenants' apartments on a regular basis spawned in his mind, aged brows raising at the corresponding maintenance. Foyle had no clue how such things worked in the game, often defaulting to his own lived experience for flawed comparison. "Master Yunxiang. Many thanks for the opportunity to participate. We look forward to proving ourse

"They call me Foyle. It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Wulfrin." The old man bowed humbly, several times, to express his enduring gratitude. Navigating the details of such a complex system was far beyond his realms of technical familiarity. "I'm much more accustomed to fixing doorbells and faucets than to any of the fancy moves everyone around here seems to manage." His entire face seemed to smile, the wrinkled around his eyes sloping as if to reach for the rising corners of his lips, eyes closing to mere joyful slivers. "Oh. You know the Captain? He was kind enough to invite

Foyle nods politely at Hanzoku's explanation, vaguely recognizing the approach as something akin to a game with deplorably blocky graphics that made his head spin every time he watched his granddaughter play it. Slimecraft, or some such thing. The man's efforts were appreciated. His mind just couldn't process how one 'mined' weeds and flowers, insisting that a pickaxe somehow had to get involved. Hanzoku's aspirations to join the front lines were most impressive, if not unexpected. "My goals are more modest, and frankly less fully formed. I'm still trying to learn so many of the game

"You really didn't have to do that, Miss Nymoria," Foyle added, sheepishly, thanking her for covering his clumsy offense in Zackariah's shop. "I will gladly repay you the amount provided to the alchemist. Eating fondue to make finding things easier doesn't quite connect for me, but the man seemed genuine. Hopefully it won't give us indigestion, or worse." Patting his chest plate for effect, Foyle beamed her a gentle smile, catching himself too late. Fortunately, she wasn't likely to be noticing, but it made for a good reminder the be more thoughtful in the future. Grateful that the o

Assaulted by the wall of odours and chemical cocktails from the moment they entered Zackariah's lab...err... shop... Foyle struggled just to keep his eyes open. Whether from the irritants in the air, or the sheer acrid smell of the alchemist's latest concoction, he couldn't be sure. Having politely bowed and introductions followed, he largely kept quiet and followed the rest, not really sure how to even interact with half the things they were talking about or encountered. Smiling in a kindly way, he nodded when it seemed appropriate, like he used to do for this granddaughter whenever she 'a

Dodging the issue, largely because he didn't understand the system mechanics in the slightest, Foyle found himself facing a dilemma. He'd contented himself for a time simply to remain in the background, waiting out his remaining days in seclusion. Oblivion was expected to claim him and end this hellish existence. Here was a man out of time, already faded into the background in his own world, now thrust into one impossibly unfamiliar. Ancient teaching and pre-tech values seemed to have no place here. Foyle was an old man, and an even older soul, lost in an age he couldn't really fathom, un

"Many thanks, sir knight, though I feel completely unworthy of such treasures. You really needn't have done through the trouble and expense." Foyle had been beside himself since Ren revealed the treasure trove of new gear bequeathed to him. The more he protested, the more earnestly the blacksmith seemed to feel he was deserving of the gifts. Not wishing to insult anyone, Foyle eventually had to relent and accept them. Few guesses had been required to determine the source. And, as much as he didn't want the charity, Foyle had to admit that wandering the wilds in nothing but clothes and

Chafing within the confines of his brand new armor, Foyle was still reeling at having just been accosted by some overdressed bureaucrat who'd thought him to be part of the town militia. Suddenly, and without a whit of sense, he found himself under orders to hunt down a lost payroll and... Catching the final few words of other players gathered in the square, the older warrior swiftly got the gist of what was happening, to himself along with others. His suspicions were confirmed an instant later when the quest UI popped up. Though he hadn't encountered the panels often, someone had been

Shuffling slowly into the shop, an elderly gentlemen with tangled white hair ambled in, making sure to remove his footwear before stepping into the shop proper. Carefully examining its wares, he smiled pleasantly to himself, as if each one reminded him of a life lived tot he fullest and overflowing with treasured memories. Some, it seemed, were less so, his features dimming slightly as he looked inward. But his good nature always returned. Dressed in simple clothing, not even carrying a weapon - so unusual these days, it seemed - Foyle gathered up those things that most caught his fancy.

Humility required that he protest, but Foyle was not about to gainsay his captain. Few were more experienced in the ways of this world's workings, and he truly appreciated the aid. Sewallus had even offered to have him join the elven scouts in their next foray, once he found himself some gear. The offer was generous, appealing, and quickly accepted. "Thank you all," he finally added. "I still feel like quite the stranger in this world, but you've all helped me find a path to making it more bearable, perhaps even towards finding my way through it. It's a treasured gift that I look for

Sewallus called a momentary halt to their progress, silently pointing out a series of fresh tracks crossing their path. This part of the floor was lightly traveled and lacking in proper trails, with much of its terrain undulating beneath what otherwise seemed like a uniform tree canopy. "Some sort of large cat?" Foyle kept his voice low, drawing a confirming nod of approval from their guide, who pointed at its direction of travel and urged them along a different route. "You catch on quickly. Are you a hunter by training?" The elf's question caught him off guard, not havin

It would take time, Foyle finally forced himself to admit, paired with the realization that he had no greater notion of how much time remained to him here, any more than he did in the real world. He'd made peace with that notion out there. Surely, he could do the same in here, with a positive outlook. She might still be in here, waiting to be found. The very thought of reunion with his grand-daughter had kept him mentally afloat this long, like a life preserver made of calcified hope. It would be enough. It had to be. Following the others as they made their return trek towards Elles

"Are you alright," Foyle asked his more diminutive companion, receiving only a disdainful glare in response. Pursing his lips, the older man said nothing more about the youth's ill temper and poor manners, preferring to extricate them both from cover and regroup with Freyd and Sewallus. "So.. that went well?" Combat was still new to him, and lacking context of familiarity with such games possessed by most of Aincrad's other denizens, he could only assume. Freyd nodded, the hints of a grin satisfying the curl of his lips. "You seemed troubled for a bit, at first. What was th

Grabbing Jeeves by the scruff and smothering him beneath his body as they dove behind a nearby log, Foyle's only impulse was to protect. He knew he'd be useless in this fight, yet somehow kept wits enough about him to assess the threat and protect his counterpart. "Stay down, boy. If we accidentally draw its attention, we're dead." A wimpering cry might have been expected, or terror, even trembling. Instead, Jeeves was calm, his bored expression unphased, other than a passing interest in some mushrooms he'd spotted growing under the log, and started collecting samples. Though decid

"It's an honour to have you along, Master Sewallus. I understand that you're the captain of the local guard, is that correct?" Sensing a potential future for himself as a scout, Foyle seized upon the opportunity to pick the NPC's 'brain' about the floor and general knowledge. Freyd could be seen smirking in the background, having done the same in his earliest days. "Interesting. Can you tell us more about this beast we are hunting?" "It lairs in a deep bowl, sunken into the forest floor and protected by the boughs and tangled roots of surrounding Egawa trees." Foyle didn't recog

"Did you say... 'Monkey King?'" Foyle arrived precisely on time, punctuality being particularly important to him. He still hadn't fetched his new gear from Rencesvals, but heeded his captain's call nonetheless. Dressed in what amounted to peasant's clothing, he actually blended in well with the locals, aside from his notable age. "Foyle," he offered, by means of introduction to Remington, sizing the man up by both garb and bearing before giving a bow. If the Whisper was willing to respect him, it said something about his character. Florenthia itself had ben an experience, so far.

"I accept." Foyle's response bore not even the slightest hint of hesitation. He'd already committed. This was merely a formality, so far as he was concerned. His talents as a scout had already proven valuable, especially after that nasty business in Glyndebourne, the overspawn points, and any number of other trouble spots. It only furthered the sense of purpose and comradery he'd already started to feel towards his allies in the guild. "I'll do my best to serve with honor." Freyd's smile faded, nodding his appreciation without the usual false facade, and thankful for the old

Foyle arched a fuzzy white eyebrow, unsure of what to make of the statement. "Forgive me, captain, but I'm not familiar with the term. Is this something I should know or understand?" Worry soared that he'd just been hit with more techie/gamer jargon or slang which the majority of players throughout Aincrad used with frustrating regularity. "Is that a different name for the beast you've just slain? I know that many creatures in this world are called by different pseudonyms, but can't say I've heard that one before." Thankfully, the others seemed just as confused by the reference

Foyle moved to his captain's side, nodding his approval and thanks before hacking downward with his blade, ensuring that it had been 'bloodied' in battle, if only in some token way. Expectations would be satisfied. "You handled that with surprising ease and grace. Is it always defeated so quickly." Freyd's glance signaled that they had been fortunate in the speed of their encounter before drifting towards Quip, who sat giggling madly as she sprayed the vanishing bits of boss high into the air with glee. Pursed lips prevented any further complaints from airing. Their goal had been a