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[SP-F2] A Time To Train - To Set A Goal, With An Eye On The Future - COMPLETE!


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     After fixing up his leg, Brax knew that a change in scenery was needed, 'The better to organize my thoughts, and perhaps figure out where I go from here,' he thought silently.  While Starting City was a decent place to find party companions and new gear, the hustle and bustle was not conducive to calm, rational thinking.  Too many people, too much noise.  Meditation and contemplation required beauty, tranquility and relative silence, something unable to be found in a busy city full of adventurers.  Knowing that he had sufficiently leveled up, he ventured out of the 1st floor, and made his way to Urbus, main settlement of floor two, hoping as much as he was able to find a quiet spot for reflection.

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     Materializing in Urbus was a disturbing affair.  He had never used the teleportation portals before, and decided quite quickly that he did not like the feeling.  He could not argue with the results, though, as he had heard it took several hours to travel through the floor dungeons and then climb the stairs to the next floor, so he supposed the tingling in his bones was worth the time.  Looking out over the city, he saw many adventurers milling about in a feudal-style european town, with the high rock wall surrounding the area, as if the town existed inside a mountainous crater.  "So, this is floor 2," Brax said, mostly to himself.  Mountains dominated the landscape any way he looked; snow capped ones, flat topped ones, interspersed with thick, lush forests covering the ground between them.  "Perhaps somewhere out there is a good spot for meditation."

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     Brax made his way through the medieval city, reminded of the knight's code of chivalry and valor as he ventured down to stone streets.  Part of his learning how to relate socially to others involved reading books of all different styles on the social graces, including Europe during the dark ages.  He had focused almost completely on the words, however, not on the actual people.  Though he knew the stories, the knights of the round table, Merlin the wizard, King Arthur, and others, he had devoured the information as a social graces lesson, as a means to divine a better way to relate to others, for even in our modern world, there is a place for courtesy and grace.  Not that he truly understood it, thanks to the alexithymia.

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     Brax overheard a couple, a man and woman obviously in love, mention a nearby location known as the High Fields of Crossing for their lover's liaison destination.  It was peaceful, semi-secluded, and populated by a lush garden with a multitude of beautiful flowers and safe zone animals, perfect for passing time with a special someone.  'And a good spot for thinking things through.'  It would require a journey into some unsafe forest regions, but Brax was confident that his level and gear were sufficient to brave the danger.  His only concern was whether or not the destination would be worth the journey.

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ID 42666

BD 7

MoBD 5

Wolf HP 6/10

Brax HP 20/20

EN 4/5

2 damage x 2 Whirlwind = 4

     'I should have known,' thought Brax as the first thing that happened the moment he set foot in the woodlands was an encounter with a wolf.  All snarls and teeth, the creature looked twice as terrifying as the ones he had battled on floor one, ironic as it sounded.  The beast leapt at Brax, spittle flying by his head as he narrowly missed being bitten, and in response, Brax prepped and released a Whirlwind.  The attack blew the damaged creature back, slamming it against a tree, though the toughened beast recovered quickly.

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ID 42667

LD 20

MoBD 6

Wolf HP 6/10

Brax HP 19/20

EN 5/5 Full!

6 damage - 5 MIT = 1 damage(1 min)

     Brax saw out of the corner of his eye a piece of the wolf, some tough hide, that had been sheared off by his strong attack.  He reached over to grab it, thinking he would have enough time to pocket the prize and be ready for the beast's counter attack.  He was wrong.  After putting the crafting supply away, he only had enough time to raise his head before the wolf was upon him, savage teeth attempting to tear through his armor.  Thankfully the plates held together, buoyed by his own training and experience, and allowed Brax to push the creature away, preparing himself for a final blow.

+1 material

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ID 42668

BD 10

LD 4

MoBD 9

Wolf HP 0/10 Defeated!

Brax HP 19/20

EN 4/5

2 damage + 2 crit x 2 Whirlwind = 8

     The beast could tell the battle was nearly over, but that did not stop the desire to defeat it's prey.  Doubling it's resolve, the wolf reared back a final time, lunging forward at the adventurer's throat, intent on a killing blow.  Even as it flew through the air, it saw the armored hero's axe swing in from the side, weapon head full of power and light.  It saw, more than felt, the axe cut deeply into it's head, barely able to process the sensation of it's demise, before the datastream of it's thoughts vanished from the game, to be reconstituted later as something else.

+1 material

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ID 42669

LD 14

     Thankfully, the rest of the journey to the High Fields was uneventful.  Brax noticed a lack of materials and attributed it to several adventurers engaged with creatures from the forest, whether they be plant or animal; they all seemed strong enough to handle themselves, unlike those on floor one.  He had graduated up, and his satisfaction with that fact could not be more apparent, in his strong gait, the purposeful look in his eye, and the squaring of his shoulders.  All these things  combined together told people his intention:  he would complete his goal, and discover his future. 

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ID 42670

LD 8

     Arriving at the High Fields, Brax was slightly impressed by the beauty and majesty before him.  Rising up out of the forest, the flat top mountain was everything he had heard.  The gardens radiated peace, and at least at the moment, there were few people milling around, enjoying themselves with their familiars flitting about.  He chose a secluded spot near the edge, content to observe the vast forested landscape and majestic mountains whilst engaged in his meditation.  A quick survey of the area just before he settled himself revealed no materials worth mentioning, and so he sat, concentrating his thoughts.

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     Brax had meditated several times in the past: in fact, the idea had been put in his head by a visiting doctor to the facility, by the name of Dr. Brown.  She was a strange one, but he had learned the term was truly relative when dealing with the mentally infirm.  She believed that the best way to heal one's mental distress was to focus inward, to look inside one's self and find the root cause in the soul.  While Brax knew objectively this could not be further from the truth, as most mental illness resided in damage to the brain as opposed to problems in the heart, he could not deny that a certain amount of reflection was good for stabilizing the personality.  At the very least, it would allow him to order his problems, in an attempt to solve them.

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     To start, he identified his first problem: new emotions were appearing in his psyche, and his inability to process them was affecting his ability to survive.  He had been attacked multiple times over the last few days, simply because his thoughts distracted him from the virtual world and it's dangers.  He needed to process each one in a neutral setting, somewhere safe, so that when they appeared at random, he would not be overcome.  He had not done this when he first felt satisfaction, however his logical thinking was able to process the feeling cleanly and relatively effortlessly, so meditation had been unnecessary.  Pride, as well, when it first showed up, did nothing to change his overall nature.  His pride, Brax reasoned, came from feeling good about a task done well.  He had proven, objectively, that he was able to survive in this world, was able to function and compete, albeit at a beginner's level.  It was more than being satisfied at accomplishment, it was pride in the skillset associated to him.  Brax had felt GOOD.  This was a stepping stone in the right direction.  He could feel good about certain things, perhaps he could attribute the emotion to other situations in the future.

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     On the other hand, when Pride had left him, Brax had felt Despair.  That sense of loss had affected him more deeply than he had expected.  Why had he felt so lost?  Thinking back, he could recall several other patients that dealt with this particular sensation.  They had experienced death, traumatic loss, heartbreak and pain unimaginable by the world at large.  It had driven them to hide from others, retreat inside their minds, almost catatonic in their dealings with people.  But not Brax.  Instead, he had attempted to chase after the loss, to try and get back what had fled from him, ignoring much in his pursuit.  He supposed that was the lesson, then.  That in spite of the desire and determination to regain what despair could and would take from him, he needed to find strength within to stand firm, to channel his spirit in a positive and safe direction.  He had to keep this newly found despair, the despair found in the belief that he would remain as he is and be unable to move forward, in check and not allow it to overcome his sense of purpose.

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     Next, he felt the need to go over what had brought him here specifically, the reason he had needed a safe and tranquil place to think: his recent memory loss.  He found this to be the most disturbing thing of all, that somehow he could still lose pieces of his memory, even months after the accident that claimed his previous life.  It would distress him if he could feel said emotion, but as it was, he found it odd, an anomaly that was in dire need of remedy and repair.  Going back over the incident in his head, he started to employ some advanced breathing techniques, courtesy of several books on meditation he had read after Dr. Brown left.  It allowed Brax to focus himself on the time he wished to remember, the moment his memory had failed.  After a prolonged battle against a wolf in a forest.  After he had been seriously wounded.  After...

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     ...he had hit his knees, bloodied by the battle.  The memories began to return slowly, but like a mountain stream flowing down towards the ocean, his thoughts began to speed up.  He hit his knees, weary from the battle.  Then, blackness.  He remembered a hole where his thoughts would be, a sort of emptiness, a void from which nothing seemed to escape.  Not even his attention, it would seem.  He could recall the "nothing" moving with purpose, enacting some kind of mission, and blood and pain associated with it.  He focused his breathe outside of his body, focused his emotions onto each puff of air, feeling the mix of emotions he had found over the course of the year, and these few days, exit his body on the exhale.  He was the void, the nothing, the emptiness, and it was through this state he would find the memories he sought.

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     It did not help.  The memory would not appear.  The black hole in his head was devoid of anything to latch onto, even when expunged of the feelings of self.  Frustration entered Brax's mind, his lack of success bringing forth a new sensation, but he did not want to revel in it.  He was failing, and the frustration was simply proof.  At that realization, a spark of energy flashed in his brain: "I will be the Hunter," Brax whispered aloud.  He remembered!  Those words he had spoken after the fight had concluded.  Why had he remembered?  What had been the trigger?  Brax calmed his mind, and searched for more memories, but the void had shut itself tight, revealing no more secrets.  "Hmmm, what lit the spark?"

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     He searched throughout the confines of his brain, racking the walls in search of the cause for his recovered memory.  Sadly, his thorough investigation turned nothing up in return.  He doubled back and paced the moments before the revelation.  The only thing of note was his frustrated attitude at being unable to recall the incident in question.  'Could that be it?' he wondered.  'Could my feelings of frustration have unlocked the door?  That's impossible, isn't it?'  It made no sense, that the outpourings of his heart would encourage his mind to unravel it's mysteries.  Every psychological text he had read said that a calm and rational mind was the key.  But, Brax could not deny the correlation between the new feeling and his mind's revelation.  What did he have to lose?  He resumed his meditation, and this time, instead of calming his mind, chose to focus on the feelings of the moment he forgot, the Despair that preceded it, with the hope, however small, that it would usher him through the door.

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     'I will be the Hunter.'  Those were the words he had spoken before his grasp of reality had faded.  Down on his knees, Brax recalled the weariness and Despair that seemed to pervade his being at that moment.  His thoughts had been a distraction, one that had almost gotten him killed.  He had cursed those thoughts, and in his Despair had become a void, an emotionless hole.  Somehow, his tired body had fused with his despondent heart, and become what he had always been referred to as ever since the accident: a robot, devoid of anything resembling humanity save for his outward appearance.  He recalled, through the tendrils of his darkened heart, the mechanical nature of his movements, how merciless he had been to both wolves that dared to waylay him.  How he had continued on until his body could not support his determination, collapsing his damaged leg and forcing him into an unsafe position.  He remembered it all, eating the food so he would awaken quicker and covering himself with leaves to hide from predators.  He remembered everything.

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     'That is...most disturbing.  It is well that I met no people whilst in such a state.  Such actions could be considered...evil, or at the very least, dark and sinister.'  Brax found the behavior unacceptable.  Even though he had felt very little emotionally, logically he understood the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, even if only from a societal standpoint.  Such a blatant disregard for everything around him, including his own health, was dangerous.  But how to fix it?  'What was the cause, I wonder?  Again, what triggered the outburst?' he thought to himself.  'And what can I do to prevent it?'  He wondered if any of the Knights of the Round Table had dealt with such feelings, such darkness in their hearts and minds.

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     His musings on the Knights was facetious, of course.  He knew the stories well, of Lancelot's Betrayal, and Arthur's Adultery, the other Knights and their foibles.  Something about them had appealed to Brax, or rather, to Brandon, from how they treated people to their conduct in battle.  As Brax sat in meditative repose, he shook off him dark ramblings, and directed his thoughts to lighter fare, to the Knights themselves and their look on the battlefield.  This floor, designed with medieval architecture in mind, did well to focus his mind on such things; he felt a slight smile cross his face, amusement filling his soul.

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     Just then, his eyes lit up, as another spark flashed across his heart, a fire illuminating a long forgotten dream, a memory from a life long past: he saw a picture of several Knights, proud and strong, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, and a table crafted into a circle, with a pie-sized chunk cut from one side.  He saw the Knights adventuring, slaying hydras and undead, protecting the weak, and upholding the law.  And a voice, calling from the parapets of a castle, saying "All hail the Knights of the Pactogonal Table!"  He saw this scene, and was amazed.  His memory was returning!

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