[SP-28] The Red Thread Menace (Scouting)

Freyd · February 10

(Picking up from the end of this thread: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/39342-pp-f2528-the-endless-maze/?do=findComment&comment=677775)

Fast moves and a nimble tongue had gotten him out of the trouble in Glyndebourne, but not without considerable effort. Half the town had been ready to march against Morningstar and himself over that trouble at the Naughty Pigeon. What could possible have caused such a complete and total mess? Mobs turning from allies to enemies, then attacking within the bounds of a safe zone? A mysterious affliction transmitted between mobs by mere contact with clothing? Freyd's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he recalled the image of Morningstar holding the coats of the first four ruffians to accost them. What if it could spread to players!?

Currently hiding out the cellar of some abandoned homestead on the outskirts of the settlement, it had taken some time for the pitchforks and torches to die down. To his knowledge, Sally had also never respawned, carrying even more dire implications.

"Maybe it's all a new quest, like that crazy lady's escape room," he asked Persi, who was pacing rings around him, feeding off his own elevated stress. That unexpected encounter had seemed and turned out to be playful by comparison, despite his initial misgivings.

***

Freyd consumes:

Spoiler

Notes:
1. Mega Slime Farm activated (+10% EXP for thread)
2. CS is inactive for this thread
3. Solo thread (Freyd only)

Freyd | HP: 1311/1311 | EN: 152/152 | DMG: 24 | MIT: 80 | EVA: 5 | ACC: 5 | BH: 72 | LD: 13 (16) | PROSP: 3 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | TXV: 32 | TRLBLD | PARA IMMUNE | REC: 8 | V.D.: 144

Spoiler

"Freyd, The Whisper in Shadow
Level: 33
Paragon Level: 124
HP: 1140/1140+171
EN: 152/152

Stats:
Damage: 21+3
Mitigation: 20+60
Evasion: 4+2
Accuracy: 3+2
Battle Healing: 62
Loot Dice: 7+3+1+1+1
FLN: 16
HLY: 16
PARA IMMUNE
REC: 8
V.D.: 125

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Samael's Pride | T4 MA | FLN 2 | HLY 2
Armor: Black Cowled Traveling Garb | T4 CA | VD 2 | REC 2
Misc: Fight O'er Flight (ACC 2 | EVA 2)

Combat Mastery: Damage R3
Combat Shift: AOE
Familiar Skill: Grappling Familiar
Custom Skill: [not applicable]

Skills:
Martial Arts R5
Battle Healing R5
Cloth Armor R5
Searching R4
Charge
Energist
Quick Change
Extended Mod Limit
Extended Weight Limit
Fighting Spirit
Howl

Active Mods:
Night Vision
Tracking
Athletics
Emergency Recovery
Untraceable
Detect

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Focus
Precision
Nimble
Reveal
Stamina
Focused Howl

Active Extra Skills:
Survival
Meditation
Forgotten King’s Authority
Brawler

Inactive Extra Skills:
Frozen Hide
Disguise
Photosynthesize
Hiding R2

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystals x7
Mass HP Rec [Inst] (+10% HP) x7
T4 Vitality (+16 EN) x7
Crystal of Divine Light (Reusable) x1
Rhino's Horn (Reusable) x1
Hmr.Pk: Hope's Covenant - Resolve +4 (T4 Demonic Weapon (MA) - AA, Phase, Frostbite, VO) x1
EWL: The Thing Behind All Lies (T4 Demonic MA, AA, Blight, Static, Para.Ven (Off)) x1
EWL: Shadowed Rose (ACC 3 | Para.Imm.) x1

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: +2 Fishing EXP per attempt
Practiced Angler: +2 Fishing EXP per attempt, addition +1 LD/CD to fishing attempts
Advanced Training: +10% Exp to a thread. Limit one use per month [1/1] - ACTIVATED
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:
Yamata no Orochi Statue: +1 Loot Dice for a thread

Wedding Ring:

Fishing: Level 4 | 461XP"

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

A call for assistance had been their first order of business, even before leaving town. Freyd own role was too hot. He needed others to provide the cavalry and ensure that his companion could escape, plus possibly contain whatever was actually brewing in town.

Dawn crested over the pine treetops on the eastern hills by the time he dared chance moving about freely once more. Donning a disguise as a lumberjack, complete with tuque, red and black checkered flannel shirt and false stocky build, Freyd went all out. Between his scruffy red-tinged beard, bushy eyebrows and a bulging musculature that would have given a gorilla a run for its money, he might have been overdoing things a bit. Watching the rules of his digital universe be so casually ignored the day before had him leaving nothing to chance.

"Mornin'," he muttered groggily, crossing paths with a pair of local NPCs on their way to pick fresh morning berries, judging by their wicker baskets and multicolored stains upon their aprons. The two young ladies smiled and nodded, modesty preventing them from replying. More importantly, neither turned into a crimson murder machine over a simple greeting. First test passed.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Heading back to Glyndebourne was too risky and unlikely to yield meaningful results. O&I would be crawling all over that place, squeezing through a sifter to glean anything that could be found. Whatever this was had clearly asserted itself over the locals in the floor's primary settlement. The only real leads obtained during their brief scuffle with Turncoat Sally and her scarlet ruffians centred around the unusual transfer of colour between their clothes.

"Come to think if it," he whispered to himself, "each time it happened the effect seemed to become more lucid, potent, and dangerous." Persi shuddered beneath his false shirt, signaling her own misgivings about the strange manifestations. Summoning several translucent displays with but a thought, Firm Anima's spymaster put himself to the task of scanning reams of messages and reports, scouring them for any similar encounters. It took a few minutes, but the deer poking its head out from the nearby forest's edge didn't seem to mind, losing interest well before he finished.

"Hrmmm... here's something." Allowing himself permission to sit on a nearby boulder, a steaming cup of coffee spontaneously appearing in hand. His friends had often mocked that he held several dozen in reserve. They were wrong. It was more like hundreds.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Foyle was the first to scout the floor once the raid was completed and access permitted by the system, but nothing in his initial surveys yielded any clues. This entire floor seemed to be modeled on the early American colonial period, save without firearms. The redcoats responding to Sally's cry had carried swords, but no pistols or muskets. Redcoats... was this supposed to be some version of the revolutionary war? Was this just another 'red versus blue' playing out in period costume?

Sipping at the simmering beverage as he searched, the Whisper once again found himself in his element. There was a mystery here - a secret with potentially deadly portents that required immediate and scrupulous attention. Despite the injuries suffered by his companion during yesterday's dust-up, he felt confident that he could handle the initial investigation himself - probably because he was actually just stupidly stubborn. Life here had taught him a lot about lying and playing the part, and while he didn't always understand or appreciate the motivations behind peoples' emotions, he'd grown very good at imitating them. Just like a gemini.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Warmth from his tea cup bumped against his upper lip. Something about that drifting, unbeckoned thought had placed him in a powerful if momentary daze. Blinking, then again, Freyd's gaze lowered to the lengthy shadow stretching out from his dusty, muck-covered boots. The grass and forest floor had been wet with dew and left a damp chill in the morning air. Footfalls had churned up the mucky surface during his backwoods trek. Glancing behind him, he found no steps left to follow. Good. At least that was still working.

A startled chipmunk raced out from beneath some nearby brush, loosening the droplets clinging to their underside and prompting them to drop as it ran to a nearby tree, drawing his gaze over his shade once more. Where has Montjoy gone?

Once the mouthpiece of his surly and sarcastic alter ego, Freyd used to have lengthy conversations with his external conscience. It had been some time and the silence was only just catching up to him now. Under other circumstances, he might have expected his shadow to lift its own silhouetted drink in a toast. This version only mimicked his own actions. How drab.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

The other points of interest that Foyle and his own encounters had extricated was the repeated mention of some hoity toity 'Lord Magistrate.'

"Sounds like a total git." It might have been a bit soon, but the declaration fit his limited experiences to date. "Right. Might as well start there. If this person is in charge of the redcoats, then he's most likely to have some info, or at least be at the centre of whatever this cluster *cough* entails."

Downing the last drop of drink and dismissing its vacated container to his inventory for future refills, Freyd quickly surveyed his surroundings. Trees. Lots of them. Possibly all treants in disguise... or perhaps not. No one ever accused him of lacking imagination. Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes to refocus, he scanned below and above instead. Smoke. A steady plume rose as a narrow wisp off in the distance. It seemed as good a place to start as any. Groaning to fit the image of the elder he'd chosen to portray, Freyd hooked his thumbs around a pair of worn grey suspender straps and set himself upon his chosen course.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Rounding the bend in the loosely defined trail and clearing revealed a far more alarming scene than he'd anticipated. The smoke had been white, and the plume modest in size, suggesting a mere cooking fire. The truth was far more tragic. It was a cottage, set firmly in the past tense. Little remained of the structure, clearly ravaged by fire to the point of full engulfment and collapse. Little remained standing save the stone hearth and chimney at the far end and the scattered implements of a devastated farmstead strewn all about. The smoke he'd seen drifted up from the stone ruins, likely still sheltering some embers from the cool morning dew. This had happened fairly recently, possibly even last night.

Grabbing an abandoned shovel from the remnants of a toppled work shed, he set himself about scouring the site for any evidence of what might have caused this, possibly survivors, or more likely victims.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

It was one of the great ironies of Aincrad that death left behind no evidence, especially in the case of mobs, who would typically and eventually respawn. The occasional corpse left behind by quests for plot purposes were a jarring and inconsistent anomaly, which was what made him think to look for some. Finding such evidence would imply that he'd stumbled into a quest by accident, possibly triggered by simple proximity. Arrival in Glyndebourne might have been enough to set some off. Two hours later, finding nothing, that hypothesis was sufficiently thrashed to merit discarding, save for one notable detail.

There were no bodies in the ruins, but there were clothes. They'd been set alight deliberately, given their placement. Most were either piled in a bonfire-like heap, or else had been stuffed into what looked to have once been an elaborately carved wardrobe, though perhaps not quite of Narnian proportions.

"Someone did this deliberately... but maybe not as an attack against the occupants? Could someone have done this to their own home?"

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Something in the ashes caught his attention as he raked through the debris, peeling away the uppermost layers of the piles which were now little more than crinkled sheets of carbon paper and crumbled to dust at the slightest touch. Beneath those, however, several inches down, some of the garments could more clearly be made out. Still burnt beyond any potential recovery, it was the bits of bizarre burgundy veins laced throughout their fabrics that caught his attention. Flame could not have caused this alone. Either the original tailor had woven the strands into fabric, or someone had subsequently done so with strangely singular strands.

"What the..."

Bending down to take a closer look, Freyd allowed himself to slip into appraising mode, calling upon the synergistic talents of his profession which invariably proved themselves useful in so many other ways. This would be no different. While not a tailor, or blacksmith, or truly a crafter of any kind, appraisers best merited their title as jacks of all trades. They knew just enough about all the professions to be dangerous - especially with a liberal sprinkling of ingenuity.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

"This isn't a player-crafted item," he muttered to himself, though he'd argue it was for Persi's benefit if anyone every called him on it. "So how the hell did something like this get into a mob's mesh, unless..." A furrowed brow belied furtive analysis and consideration of unorthodox options.

"Could these be the actual skins worn over, or even forming the actual meshes of mobs - the very lattices that made up their models and forms in this digital world?" His eyes widened at the consequences. "Did someone find a way to scourge the mesh off a mob?" Dark. Probably too dark. That level of destruction would irreparably damage a mob's integrity. He'd slain more than enough to know, especially given Samael's Pride's penchant for literally enabling him to eat through mobs with his hands.

Something slithered in the brush at the clearing's edge, prompting the Whisper to spin and shift through darkness, concealing himself beneath the shade of the farm's half-collapsed barn. Eyes widened and glanced back to where he'd been working. While untraceable, thanks to a handy mod, that little trick did nothing about all the sifting and stirring he'd done through the ash-laden ruins. it would be blatantly obvious to anyone with eyes that someone had been poking around.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Two sinuous creatures emerged from the tree line, each looking like amoeba's with severe cases of gigantism: immense, blobby looking things of near-translucent flesh laden with layers of angrily irate red veins that pulsed with sickly power as their worm-like bodies slithered into the farmstead. Moments later, they rose, standing like a pair of cobras, even flaring their pulpy masses wide and each conjuring a pair of sinister eyes. Their bloated bodies would shift to take on more humanoid forms, though never quite anything aesthetically pleasing. Both just looked... wrong.

"Someone found our little den." A female voice, disturbingly slick and sultry compared to the disgusting mass from which it came. Nothing about its form belied a gender. The second figure rose, lifting with it a handful of the burnt, discarded clothes he'd been examining. That was when it struck him: those weren't clothes. They were literally skins - shed skins. Its head suddenly twisted unnaturally far in his direction, a male voice emanating.

"Do you smell... coffee?"

"And vanilla," came the female's response.

Oh shit.

***

Scouting | 218883 | LD 2+16=18 | Spawn 2 elite mobs
Total: 18/300

Note: Rolls 218880-218882 linked to earlier posts are invalid. Didn't meet required post spacing.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Uh.. friendly or not-friendly?

While the debate debuted in Freyd's mind, the rest of him had already decided. Breaking cover, he rushed the nearest goopy mass and slammed the screeching keen of his fists into - no, through - its left shoulder, severing most of its recently grown arm in the process. 'I am really glad I can't taste anything you eat,' he thought, as Samael's Pride bit off a chunk. Cleaving off the first hit, Freyd followed through the rest of his kata, slamming the second mob hard enough to unbalance it. Both foes flailed wildly, recovering with speed, but not enough to catch a Whisper in the wind. Dragging his feet as he moved, Freyd deliberately filled the air with ash and dust, masking his location as best he could and relying on this other senses.

Hopefully, that wouldn't cut both ways and he could maintain some sort of initiative, having no idea what these things were, or their capabilities. If they were kin to whatever happened in Glyndebourne, he had very mixed feelings about finding out.

***

Spoiler

Post Action | AoE-I (x15, 11 EN, +2 shift, +2/hit): 17 EN - (Rested 2/2; Stamina) = 15 EN.
Free Action | None

ID #218887 | BD: 6+5-1=10 (hit, Fallen +16). DMG (15*40=600-120=480) to Sentinel 1 (CD 1 | ST-B Locked)
ID #218888 | BD: 5+5-1=9 (hit). DMG (15*24=360-120=240) to Sentinel 2

ID #218889 | MD: 4+2-5=1 (miss)
ID #218890 | MD: 8+2-5=5 (miss)

Freyd | HP: 1311/1311 | EN: 137/152 (152-15) | DMG: 24 | MIT: 80 | EVA: 5 | ACC: 5 | BH: 72 | LD: 13 (16) | PROSP: 3 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | TXV: 32 | TRLBLD | PARA IMMUNE | REC: 8 | V.D.: 144

Sentinel 1 | HP: 720/1200 | DMG: 280 | MIT: 120 | ACC: 2 | EVA: 1 | Phase (1200-480)
Sentinel 2 | HP: 960/1200 | DMG: 280 | MIT: 120 | ACC: 2 | EVA: 1 | Phase (1200-240)

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Keeping up the pressure, his enemies hissed and shifted, attempting to alter their forms to something more suitable to their ever-changing circumstances and finding it impossible. Never the type to stand as the stalwart tank, Freyd had always preferred and agile and elusive combat style based on misdirection paired with powerful individual strikes. It seemed effective, as Samael's Pride opened its maw a second time and devoured most of the male's torso, sending it to whatever void or oblivion lay beyond its touch.

"Inssssolence," hissed the female, very conveniently and foolishly confirming her location. She suffered a more grazing blow the her trouble, enough to make her imagine a Whisper on her flank where there was none - or at least no longer one there. Snaring the shovel he'd dropped during his dive for cover, Freyd whirled with an outreached hand and slammed the flat of it right across her face.

"That was for Sally, whatever the fuck you are."

***

Spoiler

Freyd regains +4 EN
CD 8 (+8 REC proc) ID #218891

Post Action | AoE-II (x18, 14 EN, +2 shift, +2/hit): 20 EN - (Rested 1/2; Stamina) = 17 EN.
Free Action | None

ID #218892 | BD: 2+5-1=6 (hit). DMG (18*24=432=120=312) to Sentinel 1 (CD 11 | ST-B unlocked)
ID #218893 | BD: 8 (Crit +1, Fallen +16, Trlbld). DMG (18*40=1440-120=1320) to Sentinel 2. Dead.

ID #218894 | MD: 8+2-5=5 (miss)

Freyd | HP: 1311/1311 | EN: 132/152 (137+4+8-17) | DMG: 24 | MIT: 80 | EVA: 5 | ACC: 5 | BH: 72 | LD: 13 (16) | PROSP: 3 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | TXV: 32 | TRLBLD | PARA IMMUNE | REC: 8 | V.D.: 144

Sentinel 1 | HP: 408/1200 | DMG: 280 | MIT: 120 | ACC: 2 | EVA: 1 | Phase (720-312)
~~Sentinel 2 | HP: 0/1200 | DMG: 280 | MIT: 120 | ACC: 2 | EVA: 1 | Phase | TXV 32 (1/3)~~ (960-1320)

Loot Sentinel 2: ID #218895| LD: 15+14=29 | CD: 3
+4 materials (+4 CD/LD odd)
7200 col (HP[1200]*6 - incl. +3 Prosperity)
T4 Perfect Consumable 218895a
T4 Perfect Consumable 218895b
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 218895c
T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 218895d

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

"Ah! Please, no more! It's gone! I swear it!"

Steadying his stance, Freyd paused, hesitating just enough for the floating murk of post-flame content to settle down and allow sight to resume its function. The mob had shifted once more and assumed the guise of a young female, stout and stocky in form with a buxom figure and dressed as one might expect a lady farmer to possess.

"Who are you? What happened here?"

She ignored his query, seemingly simultaneously desperate and elated, and moving to embrace him like a savior. But Freyd was too familiar with the deceitful ways of traitors and duplicitous gemini. He'd faced too many in his past and sordid adventures. A liar knows a liar, and he knew too well the Thing Behind All Lies. The strike was true, even as pulsing vermillion veins slithered at the periphery of her false visage. He would hate himself for it later. For the time being, life was to be all about survival.

***

Spoiler

Freyd regains +4 EN
CD X (+8 REC proc) ID #2188 (clearly I forgot this, so no proc for me)

Post Action | ST-B (x20, 20 EN): 20 EN - (Stamina) = 18 EN.
Free Action | Rhino's Horn

ID #218896 | BD: 2+5-1=6 (hit). DMG (20*27=540=120=420) to Sentinel 1

Freyd | HP: 1311/1311 | EN: 132/152 (132+4-18) | DMG: 24 | MIT: 80 | EVA: 5 | ACC: 5 | BH: 72 | LD: 13 (16) | PROSP: 3 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | TXV: 32 | TRLBLD | PARA IMMUNE | REC: 8 | V.D.: 144

~~Sentinel 1 | HP: 0/1200 | DMG: 280 | MIT: 120 | ACC: 2 | EVA: 1 | Phase~~ (408-420)

Loot Sentinel 2: ID #218897| LD: 11+14=25 | CD: 12
12000 col (HP[1200]*10 - incl. +4 CD/LD even, +3 Prosperity)
+1 Demonic Shard
Random Dungeon Map 218897

Scouting can resume.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Word came shortly thereafter, reporting more incidents in the outskirt of Glyndebourne. O&I were scouts and special agents. They were not an army or police force to be wielded as some blunt instrument against a vast and unknown threat. While Foyle, Sykes, Aus and others worked their leads remotely, he would do the same. The only remaining thread still loose and available to pull at was this 'Lord Magistrate' he'd kept hearing about. Shifting through shadow to shed the layers of ash and soot gathered over his own shell,

Freyd hesitantly wondered whether the two creatures he'd just slain were truly all that different from himself. Was there a chance that mob's original form had actually survived this withering infection - whatever its actual nature. Did anything of her survive within that bloated mass? Should he have given her a chance. He'd chosen the safe, cold and pragmatic solution over compassion. Part of it made him feel sick, but it was an illness he'd long ago learned to live with. After all, she was just a mob.

Closing his eyes momentarily to suppress a wellspring of something from within, Freyd clenched his fists, then turned and moved on.

***

EN regen 1/2

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Wandering aimlessly through the woods for a time, Freyd wasn't truly certain where he was going. He had no bearings, no map and no sense of the layout of this floor. Glyndebourne remained too dangerous to approach, for the time being. Ironically, he realized that he was acting as if this floor had tagged him with an orange mark, despite having turned his own green icon off in the debacle of the previous night. It felt very odd, yet strangely also not, and he had no idea what to make of the sensation. He might was well have been back in the Forest of Memories, once more haunted by shades spawned from his inner darkness: a soul that relentlessly required calming. So, who was hunting him now?

Thoughts drifted back to the discarded digital flesh left behind by the abominations that had claimed those farmers. I never even learned their names.

Neighing horses stirred him from his reverie, offering equal promise of new options or new threats. It could be both.

***

EN regen 2/2

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Clattering hooves against cobblestone suggested the presence of a road. Rushing as quickly as he dared, Freyd reached the weathered pathway, deeply rutted by age and heavy use. Whatever rider he'd heard was long gone, but could still be heard in the distance - eastward, judging by the station and passage of the sun. There was little option but to rely upon some conventions, even if they were somehow revealed to be different and distinct for this floor. At least it gave him a datum by which to set some bearings.

"He's headed away from Glyndebourne," Freyd declared, starting to piece together the geography. "Laying cobblestone through the countryside is no minor task to construct or maintain. A King's Highway? Maybe, but it likely leads somewhere significant."

Autumns colours deepened as he traveled along the road, yellows and oranges gradually subsumed and replaced entirely by vibrant, flittering reds that made the entire of the woods appear to be set in flames. "Could this have had some role to play in what happened at that farm," he wondered, scratching absently against the back of his cowl.

***

Scouting | 218898 | LD 16+16=32 | Nothing happens
Total: 50/300

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Something tugged at the periphery of his awareness as he walked, the rustling of leaves in the breeze overhead suspiciously similar to the crackling of a campfire and coloured to match. A white form flitted between nearby boughs, like some sort of inverted shadow adapted to conceal itself amidst the mostly bleached bark of the densely packed forest. The leaves looked more like oak or maple, Freyd was never really good at recognizing anything but the latter, mostly because of his own childhood origins. A snap sent him instantly into a crouch, spinning to spot a source and ready to respond to any corresponding threat. But it was just another deer.

These woods must be crawling with the things.

This one was very different from its earlier counterpart, being arctic white in its colouring, pristine and completely out of place for a creature of the wilds in a way the MMO's frequently disregard. Dirt is just too hard to code. It was only then that he spotted the eyes: crimson red. Albino?

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

If it were only that simple. Beneath the pallor of its thinly layered fur, Freyd could also see the prominent red veins streaking and pulsing beneath its near-translucent flesh. Cringing at the prospect that this entire wood might be infected by whatever befell the other mobs, it brought small comfort that the critter betrayed no outward sign of aggression. it simply looked at him, standing still and silent as if waiting for a pair of headlights to match its gaze. The thought was enough to make him snicker, and the snicker was enough to spook the deer. It darted away through the underbrush, bounding in the way that all such creatures do.

'Perfectly normal,' he concluded, surprised and unsure what to make of the information. Could something be at play in this forest? He was less convinced that whatever befell Sally and the others in town was the result of some malignant environmental effect like the crystals that had afflicted the Sundered Spire. This seemed more deliberate, selective and governed by insidious intent. It had spoken to him, albeit with patronizing disdain.

Edited March 16 by Freyd

Freyd · February 10

Following the road a while longer revealed more undulating terrain: a series of rolling hills all set aflame with the deepest burning colours of Autumn.

"The floor sure likes its themes, doesn't it?"

Soon, gossamer strands like translucent vines began to appear, draping from various branches and strung between trees as if connecting one to the other. Most were white or clear, but it didn't take long to start seeing the occasional tinge of pink, eventually verging into reds. It was like watching the fire in the forest canopy slowly bleeding or being drained into the strands and filaments strewn with growing density between its various parts. At its most macabre, there were instances where they appeared more like sinuous muscle tissue, as if he'd entered the corpse or body of some unfathomably vast colossus and was walking through the layers of its flesh and musculature.

"Yeah... because that's not creepy at all." His sarcasm was a dripping as colour from the vines. Persi trembled beneath his clothes, as if in full agreement.

***

Scouting | 218900 | LD 17+16=33 | Nothing happens
Total: 83/300

Edited March 16 by Freyd

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