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[SP-03] Thorn to the Lily <<Escape>>


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<<Escape>>

"Ugh... what the?"

Freyd woke to the stench of stale urine, the press of cold stone to his cheeks and the troubling sensation of something nibbling on his foot.  Moving proved difficult.  His arms were bound at the wrists and feet at the ankles.  The attempt was enough to scare off whatever critter was tasting him in preparation for proper seasoning.  

"Where the..."

A cell.  That much was plainly obvious.  Underground?  Possibly.  It could just as easily have been some dingy jail cell in any fortress or prison.  There were no windows to indicate one way or the other.  How had he been captured?  A system prompt provided the answer.

<<ESCAPE>>

Ah.  Defeated by plot.  That made more sense.  Taking in his surroundings and situation, the Whisper's mind was already at work.  It took mere seconds to get his hands free of their bindings.  Slender wrists, hands and fingers had their advantages.  Chains and manacles lines the cell walls.  Whatever this place was, it wasn't intended to hold just one person.  The chains wrapped around his ankles took another minute.  If guards were around, he had no intention of tipping them off of his return to consciousness.

***

Freyd, The Whisper in Shadows | HP:1690/1690 | EN:181/181 | DMG:20 | MIT:79 | EVA:2 | ACC:4 | VAMP OFF:169 | HLY:6 | FLN:6 | LD:8 | BH:84

Freyd consumes: Jackpot Pretzel (+3 LD) 170318

Stat Summary:

Spoiler

Name: Freyd, The Whisper in Shadows
Level: 83
HP: 1690/1690
EN: 181/181

Stats:
Damage: 20
Mitigation: 79
Evasion: 2
Accuracy: 4
BH:84
VAMP OFF:169
HLY:6
FLN:6
LD:5 (+3)

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Samael's Pride (T3-2HSS, VO 1, HOLY 1, FLN 1)
Armor: Skirmisher's Garb (T3 LA, MIT 2, EVA 1)
Misc: Night Shades (T3-Trinket, ACC 3)

Skills:
2H Straight Sword [Rank 5]
Light Armor [Rank 5]
Searching [Rank 4]
Battle Healing [Rank 5]
Parry [Obtained]
Energist [Obtained]
Charge [Rank 5]
Extended Mod Limit R3 [Obtained]
Hiding [Rank 5]
Martial Arts [Rank 4]
Quick Change [Obtained]

Extra Skills:
Disguise
Familiar Mastery: Fighter 3
Survival
Meditation

Mods:
Precision
Finesse - Rank 3
LA Athletics
Ferocity
LA Sprint and Acrobatics
Night Vision
Vengeful Riposte


Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystals*5
Gungnir Shard: Haniel's Modesty (T3 Perfect HP Rec [Instant]*5
Flash of Rejuvenation (Mass HP Rec [Instant] (+30*Tier HP)*5
Fruit-Infused Tea (T3 HP Recovery)*5
Imugi's Inspiration (T3 Mass HP Recovery)*5
Mega-Duper... Sauce (Antidote 3)*5
Grave Injustice (T3-2HSS, ACC 1, Keen 1, Abs. ACC)*1

Housing Buffs:
Rested: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat
Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down)
Hard Working: +2 EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day
Filling: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot.
Item Stash: +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
Delicious: Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed.
Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
Skylight (Searching): +1 Rank to the Searching skill.
Angler: +1 material gained when fishing
Advanced Training: +2 SP to a thread. Limit one use per month [0/1]
Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
Decor [Potted Tanabata Bamboo Tree]: This buff affects the player and their choice of up to two party members.

Guild Hall Buffs:
Lucrative: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters receive +1 crafting attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters receive +2 crafting attempts per day.
Col Deposit: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

Scents of the Wild:
Kumatetsu Statue: +1 Base Damage for a thread

Wedding Ring: n/a

 

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His gear was visible on a small wooden crate, on the far side of the corridor across the hall.  Of greater interest was the symbol painted on the crate itself: red tower with a black sword driven through its centre, all over a crimson lily. 

Sundered Spire.  Damn.  These guys don't give up.

If the Spire somehow managed to corrupt a quest that could knock players out by fiat, even low level mobs could suddenly prove lethal to elder players.  Pursed lips signaled the Whisper's concern and displeasure.  There would likely be a mastermind or agent behind all of this, but he had to get out before he could find them.  Searching the cell found a suitable, rusted iron sliver that could be used as a pick.  It wasn't really his strong suit to do this sort of thing, despite what people thought of him, but he had to try. 

Spoiler

Attempt #1/3

ID #180289 | LD 6+8=14

 

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The pin seized, momentarily in the locking mechanism.  All of it was unbelievably corroded.  Changing the angle on his improvised pick, he heard the tell-tale click that signaled the elimination of his first obstacle.  

Doesn't anyone keep a half-decent jail cell around anymore?

Sound was his next enemy.  The sheer amount of rust on the iron hinges made it unlikely that he could even open the cell without making any noise.

They would have had to open it to get me in here.

Bracing his shoulder against the wrought iron gate, he lifted with both arms and then gently shifted his weight against it.  Fortune smiled.  Other than a bit of red dust that spilled from the most corroded sections, he succeeded in opening the door enough for him to squeeze through without adding further risk.  A single lantern hung from a wrought-iron sconce a few feet away.  It was the only source of light in the area.  His night vision did the rest.

Best mod ever.

Spoiler

Attempt #2/3

ID #180290 | LD 17+8=25

 

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Everything was still present.  Swiftly gathering and equipping his belongings, Freyd felt strangely whole the moment he was once again under the protective covering of his cowl.  Everything had been strangely silent this entire time. 

The prison must be underground.  I'd have heard something - a gust of wind, the splash of surf or even that annoying cawing sound the seagulls make while pooping all over the beach in search of food.  There had been none of any of those things.  Tightening his hand around the hilt of his blade, Freyd peered into the nearby cells for signs of other captives.  Nothing.  Given that mobs and players alike dissolved into fractal clouds upon death, there was no reason to expect to see any bones.  At least no one else was stuck here with him.

Only six cells were located in this particular block, with a single, steel-reinforced hardwood door controlling the only egress.  Crates similar to that which had carried his gear were located in front of all the other cells, but none of them bore the Lily's crest.

If she keeps this up, I'm going to start thinking that this is personal.

Spoiler

Freyd spends an action to equip his gear and restore his inventory.

 

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"Montjoy, keep up appearances, won't you?"

His shadow turned, unnaturally, to face him and nodded, slinking back towards the cell and resuming the position in which he'd been left.  Once the ruse was complete, Freyd hoisted himself up to hang from the hefty timber beam passing over the cell block door. 

One solid knock should to do trick.

*SLAM*

The sword's pommel struck the face of the door with such strength that it echoed throughout the surrounding empty cells.  Muffled voices sounded from the far side, followed by heavy footfalls, suggesting solid armor.  Torchlight was the first to enter, followed by a pair of knights in red plate armor.  They seemed a tad overdressed for guard duty, until he noticed the Lily's crest upon their cloaks.  He had seen it before, emblazoned on Fonsa's gear and in the barracks where he had found her on in the Vale of Ruin on floor 23.  More and more, the dots were connecting, and they all pointed towards the same supposedly dead figure.

Spoiler

Activate Hiding

ID #180291 | LD: 19+8=27

Roll again on post #8

 

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Slipping out the door was no trouble.  Fortunately there were no additional guards in the central chamber beyond.  Sparing only a moment to scan the room, Freyd surmised that there were three cell blocks in this particular part of the prison, including the one from which he had just escaped.  Yanking the heavy wooden door shut behind him, he quickly slipped the bar back into place.  Startled cries of alarm could barely be heard from beyond, followed by the light thudding of weapons on the far side of the door.  They wouldn't get through anytime soon, and the bar made any key they might have with them utterly useless.  

Still, there was no telling how long he had before more guards arrived.  Better to make use of what time he had as effectively as possible.  The guards were both slim in build and their armor.  He saw the ears.  Elves.  That made sense, actually.  Lun'Rael might have especially strong influence among the elven mobs, or else at least it might make it easier for her followers to blend in.

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Whoever ran this place was particularly poor at paperwork.  It could also simply be that there was never meant to be any trace of any records for those captured and sent here.  Something about the crests and symbols on various goods stored in the common room tweaked his memory.  Is this related to the treant thing?  The make of the blades and armor was right.  That would make this floor three.  Another dot was instantly connected.  If Lun'Rael could infiltrate the other elven courts, she might be able to subvert their leaders and bring more mobs into her fold with a fraction of the amount of effort.  Could she actually be so bold as to try and form a clandestine elven empire right under the players' noses?  Memories of Skalaugh and the Battle of Cratered Lake flooded his mind.  There were also the dark elf armies mustering on floor twenty one and their failed advance on Coral.  

"This board is bigger than I originally appreciated," he said aloud, to himself.  It was an admission of worth for an ingenious opponent who had the odds stacked against her.  Somehow, she had managed to fool them all and still pull strings effectively from the shadows.  He had to meet this woman, and kill her.

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Rummaging through what little information there was available in the guard's chamber, he took anything that might prove worthwhile for later review.  Taking a chance, he piled as many flammable good as possible in the center of the room and set them light with a torch from one of the wall sconces.  Better to burn any evidence of his collection and use the smoke to cover his escape.  There was danger if he somehow found himself in a dead end, or trapped internally, but it would provide both cover and alarm once detected.  

The fire spread quickly through the refuse and blackened the vaulted masonry ceiling.  Heat radiated outwards, quickly approaching a level of discomfort as the air was choked with ash and smoke.  That was his cue.  Opening the exit door, he feigned a desperate call for help.   The corridor beyond led to a stairwell that led upwards.  Good, that was useful at least.  Replies came from above, along with heavy footfalls.  As the guards responded, Freyd slipped behind them, unseen.

Spoiler

Activate Hiding

ID #180312 | LD: 15+8=23

Roll again on post #11

 

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It was a close call, getting by the extra pair at the top of the wooden steps.  He'd had to cling to the underside of the risers and pull a little acrobatic stunt to manage a way around them, and now they were all trapped below.  Freyd knew full well that leaving them there was as good as pronouncing a death sentence.  Fire and smoke in enclosed spaces were a lethal combination, and it wasn't like Aincrad had sprinkler systems to help out.  There was also no doubt that these were enemies.  If he left a wake of destruction behind him getting out of there, Freyd would hardly lose any sleep over it.

The upper chamber looked to be above ground, not that it really helped him any.  The narrow windows reminded him of arrow slits and looked out onto a low promontory surrounded by tall trees that matched what he expected for floor three.  This seemed to be some sort of watch post or tower, likely a defensible position maintained by the elves against their treant rivals.  

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The stairs continued upwards, coiling around the outer wall.  There was no exit on this floor, likely as a defensive precaution.  Forcing an enemy to climb to a higher level for entry limited their ability to focus their attacks in case of external assault.  This level served primarily as a supply room, with a small well located in the corner in case of siege.  It was carefully considered, and clever.  Fortunately, the current contingent of guards seemed limited, either by necessity or design.  Too many people would take up too much space and require more effort to maintain.  Such details drew attention in certain circles, including his own.  

The guards appeared to have been in the middle of their lunch.  Grabbing a sandwich, Freyd spared it a quick sniff and confirmed the absence of mayonnaise. The stuff was vile beyond belief, in his opinion, and had the unfortunate habit of showing up in everywhere.  Feeling peckish, he downed a wedge before moving on.  Most of the stock in this room was common fare, along with assorted weaponry and tools for the maintenance of an isolated outpost.  

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How many prisoners have they captured?  How many never made it out?  Would that there was some way to prevent a quest from existing, or to end it permanently.

Sealing the tunnel below, Freyd couldn't help but wonder if there had been other players in the other cell blocks.  He hadn't checked.  It caused him pause.  Too late.  Damn.   There was no way left open to him, but up.  Whatever twisted madness was about this place, the exit would have to be there, though he wasn't hopeful for an explanation.  That was the way with Aincrad.  It just was, and you did whatever you had to do to.

More tromping footsteps followed.  A full squad this time, all in heavy armor and likely placed on alert by the Spire.  They looked considerably less like the slouches he had duped down below.  Still unsure about the strength of his foes, it seemed best and more effective to just keep avoiding them.

Spoiler

Activate Hiding

ID #180313 | LD: 9+8=17

Roll again on post #14

 

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The guards looked perfectly content to let their fellows and potential prisoners burn, himself presumably included.  Stepping as lightly as he could, Freyd slunk around the outer edge of the room sticking to the shadows or calling upon Montjoy to create them as needed.  His inky friend had rejoined him after the trap had been sprung and stood ready to assist.  Persi served equally well, adding her own dark layer to the mix where and as required to maintain his concealment.

Judging by their muted words, there were no other prisoners below.  It was a modest relief, but welcome.  He'd have to be more careful in the future.  Getting out of this place would prove a more daunting challenge.  Wiping out the guards was an option, but another dozen could come charging down from above, and there were no exits from this room.  He needed a half-decent distraction and about eight seconds to reach the upper floor.  That would be enough.

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The stairs up to the next level were rough-hewn slabs nailed to a stringer, with open risers.  Nothing fancy, but they did the job.  They were also very climbable, provided he could keep the guard's eyes away from the that direction.  Silently directing his shadowy mischief-makers, he set them darting about the far side of the room while he pulled himself tight to the underside of the treads.

"Hey!  Wassat?" called one of the smaller guard, with a particularly nasal voice.  Three of the six men wandered over to a nearby table, recklessly tossing the surrounding benches aside.  Freyd caught sight of Persi's blue eyes clinging to the underside of one as it flew, grinning despite himself.  

"There's no way anything made it this far," called another, high elven lilt clear in his accent.

Montjoy made his move, slipping past one of the arrow slits in the just the right way to catch the others' attention and make them believe that something had just flitted by, outside.

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It worked!  How the hell had it worked?!  Because he had good allies backing him up.  He practically heard the words spoken by Raidou's voice in his mind.  Dammit.  Yeah.  That was true, here and elsewhere in the guild.  When push came to shove, they were were an especially good lot, and he needed to remember not to try doing everything by himself all the time.  

Slinking an arm and leg over the exposed stringer, Freyd thanked whatever negligent architect had ignored the need for a handrail and flipped himself over the side without making a sound.  Spreading out his weight prevented the stairs from creaking and allowed him to move to the top completely undetected.  Another door barred the way, though it had been left ajar by the goons below during their descent.  Firelight could be seen dancing on the flagstone floor and masonry walls beyond, but the rest of the room remained obscured.

Spoiler

Activate Hiding

ID #180373 | LD: 17+8=25

Roll again on post #17, if he hasn't found the exit by then.

 

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Peeking his cowled head through the narrow opening as quietly as possible revealed a room configured as a living space.  A dozen beds were arrayed in a circle, evenly spaced around the tower walls, all of them in various states of unmaking.  Identical footlockers sat at the foot of each, which was quaint, as no one really needed the additional storage.  A hearth, built into the tower wall, provided limited heat and illumination.  More arrow slits lined the wall, but this time there was also a door.  Heavily barred and reinforced from the inside, this was what he'd been looking for: a way out.

Scanning the floor around the door for snares or alarms, he lifted the bar and unbolted the locks as silently as he could.  The guards below continued to mock each other for jumping at nothing. 

"Heh.  Who knew!?"  Not a mob killed or alarm raised, Freyd silently opened the door and walked out like he had never been there at all.

 

Spoiler

Searching for the exit

ID #180379 | LD: 10+8=18 (Exit found)

 

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"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

A broad-chested elven knight wearing red plate armor grabbed Freyd by the collar and slammed him hard against the stone exterior of the keep.  He either had the worst possible luck on timing, or the quest set this guy here for this explicit purpose.  Judging by the familiar symbol on his breastplate, it was probably the former, which sucked rather hard.  

"We're not done with you yet... Whisper."  The warden slammed him against the wall a second time, for good measure.  

So they do know who I am!  Interesting.

A wicked-looking club swung by the man's hand towards Freyd's face.  Samael's Pride appeared in his hand just in time to block the blow, then smashed into the side of the warden's helm for good measure.

"Talk, talk, talk... you Spire-types sure are a chatty bunch!"  Bracing his back against the tower, he hopped both feet up on the man's chest and pushed with all his might, sending him sailing over the edge, followed by a heavy thud.

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Leaping down after him, blade-dip pointed for the kill, Freyd plunged it so deeply in the man's chest that the ground crumpled beneath him even as his armor crumpled and he turned to dust.  All that remained was a small, rough chunk of grey granite with a black vein that circumvented it like a crack.  Turning it over revealed a painted red symbol of the castle of Aincrad - the sigil of the Sundered Spire.  Freyd clenched his jaw at the sight of it, yet claimed the prize nonetheless.  Soon enough, when the floor raid was behind him, he would finish his hunt and have a little chat with the Night Lily.  She might not like what he had to say, especially when the conversation came with a complimentary suite of McStabbies in the face.  He was starting not to care what her reasoning was, or if she could hold a rational conversation or not.  Her little crusade against players had drawn his ire and required retribution.  

Spoiler

Galaxy Destroyer (x13): 13 EN - (Rested 1st of 2, Finesse 3) = 9 EN

ID #180541 | BD: 8+4-2= 10 (hit, Fallen +6).  Freyd deals (13*26=338-15=323) damage to the Bandit Warden.

Freyd, The Whisper in Shadows | HP:1690/1690 | EN:172/181 | DMG:20 | MIT:79 | EVA:2 | ACC:4 | VAMP OFF:169 | HLY:6 | FLN:6 | LD:8 | BH:84

Bandit Warden | HP: 0/100 | DMG 30 | EVA 2 | MIT 15 (100-323)

MD 9-10 ignores MIT

 

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It took a few minutes for him to get clear and find a suitable vantage.  Flora wasn't far and could be reached within the hour.  Smoke billowed out of the tower behind him, and had finally reached a point where the other guards had chosen to abandon their posts.  He could have hunted them down, and probably should have.  But the Lily would expect that.  Better to let them report back that their operations had been crushed and the quarry had escaped.  Incompetence was unlikely to be rewarded, and anything that undermined the hold between the Spire's forces and their mistress provided potential advantage.  

Vanishing into the tree cover, Freyd took a circuitous route back to town and even snuck into the central plaza.  Reaching for the smooth surface of the teleportation platform, he called out his destination: Angel's Point.  The familiar white walls of his 'home' town greeted him nearly instantly as the world dissolved and reassembled itself.

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"Oh, good!  There you are!  This saves me sending the message."  It was Dingo, looking even more agitated than normal.

"What's up," Freyd replied, his voice and tone calm, as if he'd just returned from a casual patrol or highly aggressive grocery shop.  

"It's Quaestor.  I saw him run off with a sword in his hand earlier today, and I'm not sure what it meant."  The mousy-haired boy chewed on his lip and fidgeted nervously as he spoke.  There must have been something in their friend's bearing that had caused considerable alarm.  Rushing off to pick a fight also wasn't Quaestor's style.  The man had retired from the front lines due to stress, and other as-yet unrevealed traumas.  Freyd never pushed, but knew that the man had a florid past.  He certainly never seemed to run out of tales, though few actually involved him directly.  Perhaps one had finally caught up with him.

"Come on, let's go take a look in his shop.  He may have left us a clue."

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'Quaestor's Quisine' was right across the road from the gatehouse that led into the abandoned monastery grounds where Freyd Edges was located.  It had served as Freyd's improvised kitchen while he scouted out the floor in advance of building his own shop and home.  Quaestor never had any customers, and Freyd didn't want any.  Both men had come here to get lost, away from the rest of the hustle and bustle of the world.  That had given them common ground, and mutual respect borne from not prying into each others' closets.  Perhaps he should have.  Standing by the bar in his friend's shop, Freyd found little evidence of what might have set him on such a sudden course.  Short, but stocky, Quaestor had never struck him as much of a warrior, though he had rescued Quip, Dingo and Freyd as they sought to escape Valehaven.  Maybe there was truly more to the man than met the eye?  His imagination pictured Quaestor transforming into some sort of giant horse-headed mecha-warrior.  It just didn't fit. 

It also didn't matter.  He needed to go find his friend.

***

Reward Summary:

4 SP (1 page, +1 event, +2 quest)

400 col

1x Bandit's Guile (EVA 1) consumable.

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