[F29 | SP] [EV] A Bottle a Day | <<Fatal Error>>

[Acanthus 0]

Another wine bottle ricocheted off the marble tiles. The sound bounced from floor, to wall, to ceiling, to wall, back to the rafters, and then finally to the couch where Acanthus reclined. Her left hand held the pale green neck of tomorrow’s regret. It was a good vintage. Good enough, at least.

The discarded bottle rolled across the floor, making an intolerable scraping noise. It hobbled across luscious, speckled floors so extravagant that Acanthus doubted such a floor existed anywhere on earth. With a sharp crack, the empty bottle split against the far wall of the parlor, vanishing with a light, artificial tinkle.

“It’s not real.” She mumbled to herself, and fumbled the new bottle to her lips. Warm, dull cherry flavoring rushed past her lips. The taste had none of the hallmarks the label boasted: no complex profiles or floral bouquets. To Acanthus, it tasted like medicine. So that’s how she treated it.

Slime farm applied! +10% EXP for this thread

 Acanthus | HP: 880/880 | EN: 120/120 | DMG: 28 | MIT:40 | ACC:4 | AA  | BH:48 | LD:12 | PROSP:6 | QTY: 2

 

Spoiler

Equipment and Consumables

Spoiler

All enhancements reflected in the stat block unless otherwise specified.

Equipment
Weapon. botan. AA | ACC 3
Trinket. worthless promise  Prosp. III | Quality I
Trinket. empty avarice | LD III | Quality I

Consumables
Ass-kicking Absinthe | 231994-3 | DMG III
Skewer Roll | Protein II
Gelato | LD 3 Filled!
Imperial Bar | 231140b | Prosp. III

Abilities (Skills, Shifts, Masteries, Add-ons, and Mods)

Spoiler

Combat Mastery and Shift
Combat Mastery: Damage R3
AoE Shift

Skills

• Battle Healing R5
• Energist
• Heavy Armor R5
  • Addon: Precision
  • Addon: Iron Skin
  • Mod: Impetus (1/5)
• Searching R4 + 1 (Skylight: Searching)
  • Mod: Night Vision (2/5)
  • Mod: Tracking (3/5)
• Straight Sword R5
  • Addon: Ferocity
  • Addon: Stamina

Extra Skills

• Forgotten King's Authority
• Survival
• Assault Mode
• Block
  • Mod: Shield Bash (4/5)

Inactive Extra Skills

• Photosynthesize
• Disguise

Addons

• Ferocity
• Iron Skin
• Precision
• Reveal
• Stamina

Mods

• Shield Bash
• Meticulous
• Night Vision
• Tracking

Battle Ready Inventory (7 Slots)
Dimensional Backpack + Item Stash

Spoiler

1. Lama Sabachthani | 236687 | Consumable - Soundtrack | Hypnosis 2 | Lullaby 2 (Instant)
   Pain deeper than words, engraved by a hand that does not know its own heart.
2. Edict's Threnody | 236686 | Consumable - Soundtrack | Perpetuate (Instant)
   If my suffering will not end, then neither will yours.
3. [Empty]
4. [Empty]
5. [Empty]
6. [Empty]
7. [Empty]

Housing

Spoiler

House Name: Villa of Coruscating Flowers (The Villa)
Location: Floor 24 - Paradise Islands
Description: See above
Plot Size: Estate - PK Accessible
Rooms: Listed below. All rooms are assigned to Acanthus.

• Master Bedroom
  • Well Rested | -1 energy cost for the first three expenditures of each combat.
• Greenhouse
  • Green Thumb | +2 Gathering EXP per Attempt and additional +1 LD & CD to gathering attempts.
• Extended Workshop: Recording Studio (25,000 col)
  • Hard Working | +2 Crafting EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day.
• Mega Slime Farm
  • Advanced Training | +10% EXP to a thread. Limit one use per month. Must be used on a player's first post in a thread. Cooldown begins counting down when used in a post.
• Living Room:
  • Relaxed | Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
• Attic (Bedroom)
  • Skylight (Searching) | +1 Expertise to declared utility skill (Searching). Cannot boost a skill without ranks, or increase a skill past its maximum rank. Cannot boost a skill the user has not learned yet. Ranks obtained using this buff will make the mods of that rank available for purchase. Mods obtained this way are unusable if this buff is removed until the skill is returned to the appropriate rank by way of SP purchase.
• Basement:
  • Multipurpose | Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll.
• Storage Closet: (10,000 col)
  • Item Stash | +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
• Master Bathroom: (25,000 col)
  • Squeaky Clean | The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 25% (rounded down)
• Basic Kitchen (15,000 col)
  • Filling | Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot. This can exceed normal Cook enhancement caps. Ex: A perfect T2 MIT food gives 35 MIT instead of 30.

Crafting and Gathering

Spoiler

Performer | Rank 5
Apollo’s Metronome | Crafting Tool | Meticulous: +1 CD when crafting in one’s workshop.

Forager | Rank 5
Demeter's Cornucopia | Gathering Tool | Bountiful: +1 CD to gathering attempts.

 

 

Edited Monday at 02:17 AM by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Her free hand stretched forward to open her menu and check her housing inventory. Acanthus filtered by “drinks,” and ran a quick tally.

“I s tartde with two-hundredd and seven-ty– seventy-thre e.” She recounted to no one in particular. “Ap proximately twelve-hundredd and five-ty militers perday. Bottles are… bottles are seven-and fifty? Hundred. Seven-hundred and fifty.” Her face contorted as she tried running the numbers in her head. It was no good. She’d accidentally turned off too many of the brain functions. Self-medicating was a fine line, and lately, she was worried she had lost where that line was.

Acanthus procured pen and paper. She was down to 152 bottles now. So she’d drank 121 by her count. At her prescribed rate of a bottle and a half per day, then she’d been “on vacation” for a little over two months. Although she had upped her dosage without realizing it. Somedays she would have two bottles. If she could tell Hatred was waiting to pounce with some kind of cutting remark, she would break into a third.

Vacation. Call it what it is, girl. The irony no longer needed Hatred to explain itself; Acanthus managed just fine on her own.

“I really thou ght I was go na be the one. I th ought I could do it.” She pulled out her third bottle for the day. A nightcap would probably help her sleep. Just enough to keep her from dreaming. “Two y ear s, twoo mon ths. Don’t matt-tter. Seems like all I’m goud at is running away and hiding.”

“What is your problem?” Purple hair flooded her vision. Someone she’d nearly killed.

“Sort yourself out. I can’t trust you to watch my back anymore.” A red cloak, disappearing into an infernal landscape. Someone she hadn’t killed. But she did. She held his limp body in her hands after the fight. He was fine. He wasn’t breathing. Lessa assured Acanthus that he had recovered. She hadn’t confirmed.

A hard *pop* startled Acanthus. The mostly empty bottle had slipped from her grasp and vanished with a few gulps of liquid still left. With a groan and two swipes, a third bottle appeared. “Doesn’t ccount asfour if there’s some left in the old one.” Besides, she didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. Why would she have anywhere to go? Morningstar was right—she was more of a liability than an asset. When it mattered most, she couldn’t be trusted. Her courage stemmed from her cruelty, and she had learned that her cruelty was not a tool she could direct. Rather than learning to direct it, she would avoid it.

A small voice in the back of her head reminded her: that doesn’t stop you from solo quests, you know. If you’re worried about killing other players, just avoid them. That way, you’re still getting stronger and you’re not putting anyone in danger.

A momentary flash of anger rushed through her veins. “You ddon’t gett it, do you?” She yelled at herself, her voice bouncing off the walls like the sounds of her discarded wine bottles. “I’mm nott ALLlowed to get stronger. That’s why ‘star’s dead.” Acanthus rolled to her side, hiding her face in the couch. “If I—do whatever I did again, I have to be weak. I can’t kill somone. I can’t.” She buried her head deeper into the velvet cushions. “So I don’t get stronger. Then, when it happens again…”

She couldn’t even say the last thought aloud to herself.

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus smothered her thoughts between the couch cushions. It did her no good to revisit problems she couldn’t solve. She listened to the soft ambience of the Villa, letting it rest gently on her dulled senses.

I’m probaly need to eaase up on the stuff. Just cuz I cam get drumk doesn’t mean I have to. ALso, I’md running out of wine.

She rolled over on the couch, set the half-finished bottle on the floor, and began to flip through her messages. If anyone had some more drinks on short notice, Argent would.

She had met him while visiting new bars and taverns. Oz and the Sour Rumor had seen far too much of her, and she didn’t want him blabbing to other people about how much she visited. Facade or no, she clung to her appearance, and appearing in the same bar too much would erode her respectable image. By resupplying at different bars on an infrequent and unpredictable schedule, she could avoid raising suspicion. From who or what she wasn’t sure, but she avoided it all the same.

Recently, Acanthus found Argent’s bar on Floor 22. More importantly, he had cases and cases of a particularly awful vintage. She convinced him to part with a case after assuring him it was not a joke, and she intended to drink it herself, rather than pranking some unfortunate soul.

The half-finished bottle of wine represented the last of Argent’s collection. True to his word, it was bad. No wonder he was willing to let it go for cheap. Maybe she could get a bulk rate on the next few cases.

It turned out Argent had beaten her to the punch. Her inbox housed an unread message from Argent, dated two days ago. It was odd that the message was so old—notifications weren’t exactly easy to miss. Having it sit in her inbox for two days made her wonder if the game glitched out. Finishing off the bottle of wine, she concluded that was the case.

Acanthus, hope everything is going well. Not sure if you’ve heard, but the Floor 29 labyrinth got cracked. Now we’ve got “Spectral Knights” wandering other floors and causing problems. Everyone is trying to figure out where they came from or what they’re doing. If you’ve got a moment, stop by so we can chat about it. We need more frontliners on this; these Knights are no joke.

P.S. Hopefully you’ve used (or thrown out) the last of the Illridge Red. I’ve got a surprise for you when you stop by.

The post-script was cute. Acanthus imagined him writing the message by candlelight against the backdrop of an opulent Victorian estate. She wondered if he had fought the urge to toss in a few “forsooths.” Or the evergreen “my deepest regards.” She laughed to herself, then hiccuped.

I’m going to have to sober up before I stop by.

Edited 8 hours ago by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

“Three more cases of the cherry stuff, Argent. And a little information, if you have it.”

A green player icon sprung to life as a cheerful young man appeared behind the bar. The bar itself was spotless wood, lit by the warm, welcoming light of floor twenty-two. The bar matched the dozen or so round wooden tables scattered around the floor—also perfectly cleaned, chairs stacked dutifully on top in preparation of a busy evening. Between the furnishings, the shelves well-stocked with meat and drink, and the large windows overlooking the main lake on the floor, the entire place looked as though it had been lifted out of an adventurer’s fantasy and made real.

Despite the cleanliness of the bar (tavern, as Argent was quick to correct), Acanthus had never seen the owner do a hint of cleaning while she was there. She had learned about the cliche where a barkeep always seems to be cleaning a glass or tankard with a filthy rag while sharing the news for the day. Argent seemed to break that mold. Acanthus guessed that he was younger than her—early twenties was her guess, but maybe he just looked good for his age. Part of that had to do with his dress. Despite the rustic feel of the tavern, Argent always seemed ready for a business dinner. Today, he wore neatly pressed grey slacks, and a clean-white button down with the collar open. A tie hung over the register, waiting to be worn. Acanthus always wondered why he dressed so nicely as a barkeeper. He looked like someone that managed big financial accounts, not someone that serves alcohol and rumors. But she refused to pry, because prying was unbecoming. So she stayed focused.

“So the labyrinth has been cracked.”

Argent leaned forward on the counter, folding his arms. “The hot dog vendor from Floor 1 managed it by himself. Last I heard, he was screaming about handling the floor boss by himself as well.”

“Let him try it then.”

“The interesting thing is that he might have, but… the floor boss was already dead when he looked inside.”

“Already dead?”

Argent nodded. “A dead dragon, by the looks of it.”

“So we’re fighting a zombie dragon, then.” Acanthus started a mental checklist of things to collect before the fight. Undead could be killed with holy damage, and sometimes even healing…

“Word is spreading that it may not even be the dragon that you’re fighting.” Acanthus paused her mental checklist mid-word. “I beg your pardon?”

“Rumor mill is running fast on this one. Some people think that whatever killed the thing is the boss.”

“If that were the case, the dragon would have despawned. Cardinal doesn’t leave remains behind.” Acanthus scoffed. People really looked for conspiracies in anything.

“That may be true, but… You’ve been to floor twenty-nine, right?” Acanthus made a quick noise of agreement. Argent continued. “There’s not a single quest up there that isn’t bugged in some way. People on the “bigger fish” theory are chalking up the body to yet another bug."

Acanthus allowed herself to be distracted. “Bigger fish?”

“It’s a Star Wars reference.”

“Ah.” She was really going to have to watch those at some point. Maybe Wulfrin had access to them? He seemed to enjoy the Star Wars.

“Either way, the room has been found, and there is a dead dragon.” Argent sighed, hands tightening around his arms. “I’m sorry I don’t have much more information. It’s so prevalent, it’s not really worth anything.”

A light smile worked its way onto her lips. “You’re a terrible businessman, Argent.” He held his hands out, playfully defensive. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent businessman. I am, however, a terrible info broker.” He looked around his tavern lovingly. “I fall into most of my information by accident, anyways. Floor twenty-two sees a lot of players, and this tavern sees most of those people. I just share whatever they do, that’s all.”

“As time wears on, I’m sure they’ll start sharing more. Don’t hesitate to message me. Doesn’t matter how small.”

Argent massaged his chin thoughtfully. “If you don’t mind the kind of leads that never pan out, then I may have something for you. It’s not something any one person has commented on, but a lot of the players frequenting Floor 29 feel like the number of humanoid monstrosities has grown.”

“Humanoid? You mean human-sized.”

“Yea. They’re getting lost in the clamor of the spectral knights, but it seems like entire mobs are appearing around towns and other population centers. Things that used to be population centers, I mean. They aggro easily, but most people report that it’s easy to shake them by just leaving. Most of them aren’t fast anyways.”

“I see. Is there any particular village or city they’ve been spotted in?”

Argent thought for a moment. “Most of the reports are coming from Miremore. The Belfrey has a few as well, as well as some of the smaller, unnamed villages. But Miremore the source of most of them, I think.”

“And I assume the monster-humans there are mostly fish aberrations? Cephalopods as well, perhaps.”

“...Right on the money. Mind sharing what has you interested in a bunch of floor-minimum mobs?”

A flood of memories drowned Acanthus. The lighthouse—scratches on the door—a pitiful soul Acanthus could not help—the half-formed claw of the child’s hand, limp underneath the rubble— (Warning: Some of these links contain quest spoilers. Click at your own risk.)

—too much to process. The feelings had to go somewhere else right now. Pulling the flask from her waist, she redirected her thoughts shakily. “It’s just a suspicion. If I had any information about why they’re changing, you know I’d be the first to share.”

Argent looked mildly shocked. “‘Why they’re changing?’ So they are changing from… Did they used to be…” His face drained of color for a moment. Acanthus took a second pull from her flask, draining it. “I don’t know. And I’m not sure I want the word getting out yet. I know you’re an info broker, but maybe keep this one under wraps for a little bit, ok? I’m going to investigate Miremore. I’ll keep you updated. In the meantime,” she shook her empty flask at the barkeeper. “I’m here for the next shipment.”

“Already?” Argent whistled. “I didn’t expect you to clear through the first case so quickly. I can’t give this shit away at the tavern.” Reaching down for the crates, Argent heaved three large boxes onto the countertop.

“There you are. Ilridge red blend. Take the difference between real food and Aincrad’s food, subtract that flavor again, and you’ve got whatever this is. I still don’t understand why you’re after this wine, Acanthus. Is it for a quest?”

Acanthus snorted. “It’s because of a quest, more like.”

“I heard about the quest on Floor 29. Apparently it gets you drunk?”

“Lets you get drunk,” she corrected him. “You still gotta finish the job yourself.” As if to emphasize her point, she pulled one of the bottles from the shipment and brought it to her lips. “This wine works without breaking the bank.”

“It tastes like cough syrup!”

“It does.”

Argent’s usually cheery demeanor flickered for a moment. He watched the girl check over the crates of wine fastidiously. There was something sad about the way she clinically checked each and every bottle. When she arrived at the surprise, she stopped.

“You’ve made a mistake here. This is a bottle of—”

“Extravagant Brightbrew. It drops from a repeatable quest in the Paradise Islands—one in every hundred completions.”

“...It’s not exactly a short quest, either.”

“It isn’t. Last I checked, this is one of three bottles in circulation.”

Acanthus remained still, uncertain what he would say next.

“You can call it thanks for clearing out the part of my supply no one else will.” Acanthus ignored him, and continued to look over the Brightbrew like an unknown specimen, without surprise or pleasure. She was simply committing the image to memory. The silence unnerved Argent, who cleared his throat and continued. “You can also call it a thank you. From those of us not on the frontlines. You’re the reason we get to go home someday.”

“I wouldn’t say that until it happens.” Acanthus delicately returned the bottle to Argent. “Keep it. It’s a kind gesture, but I don’t want it. I just need the red blend.”

Argent’s heart fell for a moment. He had hoped the vintage would break her icy demeanor. Or at least convince herself to buy something better than the Illridge. He had only known her for a week, but…

“We’re all in the same boat. Acanthus, if you need someone to talk to…”

“We’re not, and I don’t. Thank you for the wine. And the information. I’ll be in touch.”

Edited 17 hours ago by Acanthus

[Acanthus 0]

Floor 29’s teleportation plaza looked like a kicked anthill. Dozens of players patrolled the streets, while others built barricades or searched the ruins of the town for clues or answers. Internally, she derided them. Did they really think they would find something in the wreckage that the frontliners had missed the first time around? They would just meet the same fate as all the unprepared players. They were wasting time here, when they needed to be searching the far away towns and centers. Or even the black sea on the outskirts of the floor.

Without greeting any of the players, Acanthus vanished into the shadowy outskirts. Miremore was a fair trek from the main floor, and she didn’t want anyone following her. She suspected that looking informed would attract attention, and then there would be a host of people asking her where she was going, and how they could help. She didn’t have time to take care of them. They could patrol the town where it was (relatively) safe.

Just outside of town, some oversized, malformed rodents found her and began to inch towards her. Acanthus waited until the whole pack was within striking range, then took them out with a single, casual swipe.

[Acanthus 0]

The swamps of Floor 29 were the same as she recalled from her visit to Graycott Point: damp, sucking ground that gave little warning when it would give out. She had already traveled the area once, and recalled some of the signs. Dangerous ground had a faint, electric shimmer when the player approached. It was barely noticeable to the naked eye; it took Acanthus almost three knee-deep mistakes to catch the pattern. Now, her time was improving, and she could make out the silhouette of Miremore in the perpetual sickly yellow twilight of the floor.

Just before entering the town, Acanthus spied more rats. They had not yet seen her, and she was probably safe to go around them. But the thought of something so easy to kill was hard to pass up. Sneaking up towards the pack, she took them out with a quick series of slashes. The last rat gave an ear-piercing shriek as it died, summoning even more.

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus cut through three of the new rats with ease. The fourth stayed back long enough to release another ear-piercing shriek, and a new mob of rats emerged from the ground to join the fray. Her frown spread as she wondered how many times this mob could summon more of its kind. She slew the last of the pack just in time to see more spawn. The rats themselves didn’t seem too dangerous, but if they were endless then she had to consider running out of energy. Not to mention that her ultimate goal here was to investigate the increased aberrations. She swatted away more rats, and decided that maybe she could slaughter them to her heart’s content later. The mission had to come first.

Acanthus broke into a light jog to stay ahead of the rats. They continued to shriek, but the game stopped producing bodies at twelve. She was dismayed to find that they appeared to stay engaged, despite traveling far beyond the distance most monsters would break off.

[Acanthus 0]

She decided to try something a little different. Stopping in place just long enough to charge up a sword art, she crashed through the mob, targeting the shrieking rats first. Not one managed to finish their cry, and Acanthus sheathed her sword in the silence with satisfaction.

But the silence did not remain. A chittering sound grew beneath her feet, and the earth began to rumble as  another dozen rats clawed their way above the earth. Wait, how?! Maybe the shrieks from before the pack maxxed out still counted? Or there was some trick at play, and the mob was infinite. Whatever it was, she knew that it was time to go.

Her jog morphed into a run. At her speed, she struggled to dodge the swampholes that littered the expanse between her and Miremore. but the rats were gaining speed, which gave her no room to slow down. Hopefully they would stop once she made it inside the town.

[Acanthus 0]

They did not.

After killing four more, Acanthus hunkered down in a rotting second-story home as the wave of rats flowed just outside, in the busted cobblestone streets. Although the rats did not seems to lose aggro, Acanthus was thankful that they did not always know her location. She might be able to explore the town, but she would have to be careful now.

Her fist tightened and relaxed in an attempt to calm herself. She killed a few rats for col and experience, and now her whole expedition was being unrailed by some stupid endless river of them. What a great return to the world of adventuring. She should have just stayed home.

Without thinking, she pulled the flask from her hip and took a swig of the heavy cherry tonic. Halfway through the gulp, she paused. Wasn’t the point of this just to act normal around strangers? Who am I acting normal for right now?

[Acanthus 0]

An avalanche of rats interrupted her realization. They must have cleared out all the surrounding houses. With a quick, flowing strike, she positioned herself on the other side of the swarm, at the edge of a busted out window.

She turned around to see the rats bearing down on her. In a second, they would be on the staircase. And they could probably manage them faster than her. It was time to think outside of the box. She eyed the second-story window.

“What are you doing?”

“This?” Koji giggles at the TV screen. “I’m torturing the NPC. He’s supposed to deliver me a letter, but he’s too stupid to do it.”

Koji’s character on the screen stands in front of a small, wooden bench. The courier stands behind the bench, and begins moving around the left of the bench to approach Koji. In response, Koji moves to the right, which makes the courier stop and ponder. Then, the courier begins moving around the right of the bench. Koji then moves left.

Acanthus sits dumbly while Koji laughed. “Why doesn’t the man just climb over the bench?” She asks innocently.

“C’mon, sis. They aren’t that smart. NPCs don’t know how to do all that weird pathing unless the developers are smart enough to include it.”

[Acanthus 0]

Halfway to the ground, Acanthus desperately hoped the developers of SAO had felt the need to skimp on monster pathing. She felt her body connect to the ground, and her entire being rocked with the familiar buzz of pain indicators. She muffled her scream of shock, hoping that less sounds would attract fewer monsters.

The rats—now a ball—swirled and bubbled at the window she had leapt from. It pressed against the frame, shifting left and right as if debating whether to follow her outside. Four of the rats fell from the window, and died with flat, sickening crunches. Somehow, the game had counted them as her kills. After a beat, the swarm disappeared inside.

Acanthus knew she had moments before the rats were back out into the street, and searching for her. She stood swiftly, only to be greeted by an intense buzzing in her left foot. It felt like the whole limb had been asleep for a month.

[Acanthus 0]

Biting her tongue, she returned to one knee, and checked her status bar.

<<Status Ailment: Left Leg - fracture 00h:59m>>

“Fuck.” She whistled out slowly to contain the “pain,” and then gingerly returned to her feet. The buzzing persisted, but it was manageable now that she expected it.

Killing four rats that had not yet joined the ball, she limped as fast as she could to the nearest sturdy house. She had to hold on for an hour before her leg would return to proper shape. She’d kill to have the First Aid skill right now. She made a mental note to purchase it as soon as her skill points allowed. Assuming she survived the endless rat swarm, of course.

Squeaks and chitters grew in the distance. A distant peal of thunder signaled an incoming storm. Nothing was going to work out today, was it? Another portion of the rat vanguard crashed through the streets. Acanthus killed them quickly, and continued her escape. Hobbling as fast as she could, Acanthus reached a building down the road and slammed the door shut. The boarded windows should buy her a little time.

[Acanthus 0]

The rats continued their search for meat. Acanthus managed to spear four that had wormed their way through the cracks. But she doubted it would stop them for good. Her heart skipped a beat when she looked up at her status ailment.

<<Status Ailment: Left Leg - fracture 01h:14m>>

It was going the wrong direction! Acanthus felt her head swimming with anger and frustration. What kind of game mechanic added time to a status debuff instead of subtracting it??

A realistic one, perhaps. Silently, she dragged herself to her feet. Her left leg remained numb and tingly all at once. With a deep breath, she jumped in place.

A shooting sensation worked its way from her sole to the back of her neck, and Acanthus sucked in air in pain. Five more minutes added to the timer. “Fuck. Fuck me.” She was on the verge of tears. Since when were there broken limbs in this stupid game? She had heard about growing severed limbs back. Why did Kayaba draw the line at broken limbs instead?

[Acanthus 0]

Collapsing against a cold fireplace, Acanthus checked her general inventory. Even though the monsters were looking for her, the game did not consider her to be in combat. Which meant…

The teleport crystal materialized in her hand.

She had bought a collection of them from the general merchant. They were all the same, and had none of the flair player-crafted crystals possessed: these crystals were simple rectangular prisms, twinkling blue. It was the same design Edict had pressed into her hands before he left her.

Her head grew light; she was breathing too quickly. Don’t do this to me. A hand reached into her chest and clawed at her racing heart. The room, which had been clammy and cold, grew unbearably hot. The hand began to squeeze, her breaths grew louder and faster, the feel of the crystal felt like dead flesh, not any dead flesh, Edict’s dead body. She was holding his corpse—no, he’s alive, I saw him!—but her senses screamed at her to drop it, drop the severed hand before something terrible happens—

The teleport crystal shattered on the ground. Her heart slowed down, breath by breath.

It was all in her head. She knew the crystal would take her back to safety. But she couldn’t do it. She would rather face death here than hold another teleport crystal in her hands.

Four more rats wriggled through the shuttered windows. As she killed them, they squeaked loudly. The mass of rats fell silent as it readjusted, and then grew louder as it approached the house. 

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus stood unsteadily, knowing that she was simply adding more time to her penalty. For a fraction of a second, she debated holding her ground to fight the ball of rats. One-by-one, they were easy enough to slay. And as four more crawled through the crevices of the house to be slain, her courage redoubled for a moment.

The entire building shook as though it had been struck by a flung boulder. Timber from the roof crashed down around her, and a decade of dust floated to the ground. Then, another colossal strike. Boards guarding the windows cracked and flew into the house. Acanthus saw through the cracks, a sea of black, writhing void. Except it was not a void. It was the ball of rats, grown to a size so immense that it blocked all the light coming in through the front of the house.

Acanthus darted up the stairs, ignoring every distracting warning her HUD offered. Another boom echoed through the house, and the chittering noise filled the first floor. The rat sounds overlapped to the point that the thing downstairs no longer sounded like anything natural. TV static assaulted her ears and blotted out all of her other senses. She fought through the overwhelming sound to look for yet another escape.

[Acanthus 0]

This house was just like the last. No other way to the ground than a window. With increasing desperation, she scanned the town for any trace of hope. She couldn’t jump to the ground again. She would likely lose full functionality, or maybe fracture her other leg.

From the dim skyline, she caught a hint of movement. A cloaked figure dragged itself towards Miremore’s belltower. From this distance, she could not make out a player icon. But still, she would have to take her chances with the unknown over the infinite swarm of rats she had summoned.

Rather than leaping to the ground, Acanthus saw a nearby rooftop. It sagged under the weight of its rot, but it looked sturdy enough. Gritting her teeth, she took two steps, only to have her fractured leg swarmed by rats. She swatted them away with a sword art, but the ocean of plague was now rising up to the second story like fetid water. Breaking into a sprint, she crashed through the broken window, landing roughly on the nearby house.

[Acanthus 0]

<<Status Ailment: Left Leg - fracture 01h:46m>>
<<Status Ailment: Right Arm - sprain 02h:59m>>

But the roof held together. Acanthus bolted upright and began running along the shingles, intent on catching the lumbering figure. The figure, shocked at the loud explosion of roof tiles, began running for the belltower.

“No, wait.” Acanthus cried out weakly as she continued running, jumping lamely from rooftop to rooftop. If the buildings hadn’t been crammed so close together, she would have never stood a chance. Her body resisted every movement, even the pitiful hops between buildings; adrenaline was all that stood between her and the death behind her. Would the rats bite her to death? Claw, or scratch maybe? She might simply crush her under their weight, if they didn’t eat her alive while she drowned in the vile mass of plague and fur.

Her luck ran out when the buildings did. Acanthus teetered over the edge of a two-meter drop to the town square in which the belltower stood. The strange figure vanished through its door. Four more rats, unjoined from the creeping mass, raced ahead for the first bite of dinner. But alone, they were weak and easy to kill.

No way out but forward. Forward and down.

[Acanthus 0]

She tried to roll with the falling momentum. An audible *snap* told her she had failed.

<<Status Ailment: Left Leg - fracture 02h:44m>>
<<Status Ailment: Right Arm - broken 03h:44m>>

Heaving with exertion, she cleared the open space and arrived at the tower. The rats were no longer a ball; it was an entire sea of them, crashing through the narrow and winding streets of Miremore. Another legion spewed forth from the docks, forming another wall to block her path. If she wasn’t committed to finding the figure before, she certainly was now. It took all her energy to slay the few rats racing ahead, and her energy reserves—both mechanical and perceived—disappeared slowly.

She slammed the belltower door shut, piling in front of it whatever junk she could reach. She then looked up at the stair case, and choked out a few choice expletives.

The tower couldn’t have been more than four or five stories from the outside. But now that she was inside, looking up, it was easily triple that. Rickety wooden stairs jutted out from the walls like spiraling ribs. At the top of the impossibly high interior, the figure clambered up and up, briefly glancing down to check if Acanthus still followed her.

“Please hold on. I—hngh, I don’t want to fight.” Her words came out quiet and winded. Even talking was now a chore. If the figure had heard her, it ignored Acanthus regardless. It popped open the hatch to the bell, and disappeared.
 

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus scrambled halfway up the tower before the rats broke through. From this distance, the rats looked and sounded like a tide of water. It filled up the bottom floor with ease, eating away at the stairs as it grew towards her.

She had slowed down without the rats in sight. The warnings she had ignored were now impossible to disregard.

<<In case of damaged limbs, excessive use will lengthen the debuff timer and increase the severity of the debuff.>>

If she pushed herself much, walking would no longer be an option. But as the rats climbed faster than she limped, she knew there were things worse than not walking.

Botan appeared in her hand, relegated to a crutch. Ignoring the increasing timers on her existing injuries, she hurried up to the hatch, only to find it locked.

Any other day, and the obstacle might have frustrated her. But with a fractured leg, broken wrist, and a thousand rats eager to flay the skin from her bones, her annoyance barely registered. With a pained grunt, she broke the lock off with botan's handle. The swing caused her to put far too much weight on the wrong foot, and Acanthus caught herself on the railing. The static feeling in her foot intensified to the point that she could not distinguish it from actual pain. She channeled that pain into the railing that she clutched for balance, gripping so tightly that fragments of wood broke and fell into the churning sea that rose to eat her. Two deep breaths, she told herself. I get two breaths, and then I keep moving.

One. The rats below undulated, climbing slower than before. 

Two. More would be needed to fill the tower, but more were coming.

Acanthus swung herself through the open hatch, ready to confront the fleeing NPC.

[Acanthus 0]

A middle-aged woman stood precariously at the edge of the belltower. The cloak had fallen from her head, revealing thin, strawberry-blonde hair that greyed at the temples. At the sound of Acanthus climbing, her head turned to regard the intruder. One foot was already dangling from the tower.

“Please. Wait. Talk.” Acanthus pushed through the pain to form words. She had crawled through the hatch; rather than standing up, she had rolled onto her back, directing her voice at the inside of the massive bell above her. “Please.”

The woman stopped, and then she placed her foot back onto the tower. But she stayed silent.

“I need to know—I need to know who you are.”

The woman’s body still faced away, but her head remained locked on Acanthus’ feeble form. She spoke in a whisper. “I don’t remember.”

“Why are you here by yourself? Is there anyone else in the town?”

The woman’s eyes grew wet as she talked. “It’s just me. It was always just me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Whatever made me has cursed me. I’m here to tell the tragedy of Miremore by living it. Day after day.”

“Whatever made you… do you mean Cardinal?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve never heard that name. Is that your god?”

“I… in a way, for now.”

“Then yes, our god made me. Crafted me to be nothing more than fabricated memories, slaughtered and spawned daily. Just to give the heroes of the story a sense of gravity.”

The woman’s words sent a chill down her spine. Something was going terribly wrong. “Fabricated? Spawned?... Then you know…”

“I do. I’m not supposed to. But I do.”