[PP-F01] The First Few Lessons for the Weak

[Bael 1]

Bael's boots crunched through the tall grass, still damp with morning dew. Each step left a faint shimmer of light as the system registered his movement. The air here was different, less the metallic tang of blood, more the sweetness of open fields. The memory of his last kill flickered through his vision, a soft ding echoing somewhere in his HUD before he dismissed it. The boars had scattered long ago, their squeals fading into the trees, leaving the field eerily quiet.

He slung his greataxe over his shoulder, its edge still humming faintly from the kill. His gaze drifted lazily across the horizon until movement caught his eye, a flash of green and the soft gleam of a player's name hovering in the air. There, seated upon a jutting rock like some woodland sovereign, was Arsine. The woman of green.

"Ah," Bael murmured under his breath, a grin forming at the edge of his lips. "The poison girl."

He didn't bother to conceal his approach. The heavy rhythm of his steps pressed into the earth, the sound of armor creaking and steel dragging against leather echoing faintly in the quiet morning. The kind of sound that turned a peaceful moment into tension before the storm.

"You know," Bael said as he stopped several paces behind her, voice carrying easily across the breeze, "Talking to yourself in an open field like this.." His eyes drifted toward the horizon, then back to her. "Someone might think you’re inviting company."

He paused, studying her posture, the way her fingers lingered around those clawed gauntlets. "Or maybe," he continued, his tone dropping lower, "You're testing fate."

The greataxe shifted off his shoulder, its head sinking into the soil with a dull thud. His eyes glinted faintly in the sunlight, black, deep, and unblinking, as they landed on the bag in her hand. "So," he drawled, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, "Are they just truffles?"

The question hung in the air, half jest, half accusation. Bael's voice carried amusement, but beneath it was a current of curiosity. Was she really just playing with food.. or something more lethal?

He chuckled quietly, the sound low and rough. "You really do find the strangest ways to keep yourself entertained, don't you, Arsine?"

* * *

WC: 378

[Arsine 0]

Post Action Fight Boar
ID:256962   Basic Attack--> Boar Pup
BD: 9 CRITICAL  9+1=10 Damage


"You know...."

She waited for him to finish, not bothering to turn around, instead she looked at the truffles. They were considered a delicacy. Was there not some kind of unspoken rule to not feed them to pigs? or was that only truffle pigs. "Good Morning, Sleeping Beast." She said calmly, tossing the truffle up in the air and catching it. "Is gift, from quest NPC. I believe these are...tranquilizer truffles. I was wondering if they would work on people. How strong they were. The biology of boar and human is very similar."

She dropped the bag to the floor. "Perhaps I shall taste. On the final one." Her eyes shifted to the boar, still not once looking back at Bael. He seemed harmless enough for now. She smiled softly. "After all, it is as you say. I find the strangest ways to keep myself entertained."

Arsine took a deep breath, shifting the center of gravity with a slide of her foot, a pause as she watched the boar - it paid her little mind as it waddled closer, closer still… Then she pounced - literally, almost as though she were a cat, and latched herself to the boar, it screamed and squealed, trying to buck her off but Arsine held tight as she drew its head back with a hard yank and drew her claws across its neck. It slumped down then burst into a sea of digital fractals, leaving behind only a set of tusks. Duty done, she took the time to dust herself off, removing blades of grass and dirt from her legs.

“Is me being here a problem?” She asked, turning her gaze to Bael. “If it bothers you, perhaps you should not linger in a common hunting area.” A pause.

“Unless that is your intention, sleeping beast.”


WC: 302
Arsine | HP: 320/320 | EN: 50/50 | DMG: 9 | ACC + 2  | LD +3 
BOAR PUP HP: 0/5 | DMG: 3

Edited 9 hours ago by Arsine

[Bael 1]

Bael watched as she moved, graceful, deliberate, the truffle catching the morning light before it dropped neatly back into her hand. The words "Sleeping Beast" slipped from her lips, and for a brief moment, he couldn't tell if she was mocking him or acknowledging him. Maybe both.

"Tranquilizer truffles, huh?" he echoed, stepping closer until the distance between them was filled with the faint scent of metal and grass. He crouched near the bag she had dropped, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah," he said, fingers brushing against one of the small confections. "I want to see the effects of these.. things."

He lifted a truffle between his fingers, inspecting it like some strange artifact. The scent was deceptively sweet, like honey and earth mixed together. "You really think they'd work on a player?" he asked, tilting his head up to look at her, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Seems like a risky way to test your curiosity."

When Arsine pounced on the boar, Bael stood, his expression unreadable. The creature's scream filled the field before it dissolved into a shower of light, leaving behind only those ivory tusks glinting in the grass. For a long moment, he said nothing. Just watched. The efficiency of it. The elegance, even.

As she brushed the dirt from her legs and finally turned to him, her question came, measured, calm, edged. "Is me being here a problem?"

Bael’s lips twitched into that familiar, wolfish grin. "No," he said simply, rolling a shoulder as he straightened. "If it were, you'd already know."

Then came her next remark, sharp and teasing. "Unless that is your intention, sleeping beast."

He scoffed softly, the sound low in his throat. "I just wanted to see what each floor had to offer." His gaze drifted across the quiet plains, the empty horizon, the scattered boars. "But I guess.." He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a faint smirk. "There isn't much here on the first floor."

He looked back at her, something lingering behind the dark calm of his expression, part challenge, part curiosity. "Unless you count the occasional poison girl."

* * * 

WC: 362

[Arsine 0]

Post Action Fight Boar
ID:256969   Basic Attack--> Boar Pup
BD: 5+2=7  HIT 9 Damage

 

The second boar…much like the first one it didn’t seem to pay her any mind, barely even acknowledged the death of its companion. Though…she supposed the AI for the very first monsters one would face wouldn’t be that…advanced. “Look at it.” Arsine said as she crouched in front of the boar. “Maybe I am too high level? It does not care.” She waved her hand in front of its face and it snorted and turned around, shoving its nose into the ground to munch on whatever it had found. “Is this how you see people? You called it complacent, yes?”

A quick motion, a jerk of her hand up and under its neck, claws imbedding deep into its flesh. Then with a sickening Crunch found the boar pup gurgled and fell flat to the ground. Arsine pulled her hand away and stared at it, stain free. Naught but the remnants of red pixels danced around it.  But… everything had felt so real, she swore she could have felt the blood, the sinue, the heat of flesh. “Huh…”

 "I want to see the effects of these.. things."

Arsine glanced up at him from over her shoulder. “Then eat.” She gestured toward the sack. “Is only risky if present company makes it so.” Arsine said as she pushed against her knees to stand. She couldn’t see the expressions he made beneath the cowl, or even be fully certain his eyes were on her.

A tilt of her head as she tried to figure out what his intentions were this time, he seemed amused. Stance relaxed. He didn’t look like he was about to lash out at her. “I tell you-” Arsine said as she shifted her attention to another boar. She needed three sets of tusks in total to complete the fetch quest.

“After last boar. I will eat. You will too? Then we shall see just how these little decadent delicacies affect a player.”

A small smile. “After all, this poison girl has strange ways to entertain herself.”

WC: 337

 

Arsine | HP: 320/320 | EN: 50/50 | DMG: 9 | ACC + 2  | LD +3 
BOAR PUP HP: 0/5 | DMG: 3

Edited 5 hours ago by Arsine

[Bael 1]

Bael's grin spread slow, deliberate, at her suggestion. "Take one together, huh?" His voice carried that deep rumble of amusement, edged with something darker. "Sounds fun."

The idea of testing poison beside a stranger would’ve been absurd to most, but to Bael, it was almost poetic. A dangerous curiosity. Two people dancing around the line that separated control from chaos. His head tilted slightly as he watched her, his hood casting a shadow across his face. Beneath it, his eyes followed the way she moved, methodical, detached, and yet alive in a way most players weren't.

He sat down, the heavy greataxe thudding softly against the ground beside him, its edge catching a shard of sunlight. His fingers drummed against his knee as she stalked the field. "I like you, poison girl," he said, letting the words slip out with a faint exhale through his nose. "More entertaining than these people."

His gaze drifted toward the empty plains. In the distance, a few low-level players were clumsily sparring with the same kind of boars, laughing, shouting, utterly oblivious to the conversation happening just beyond their sight. "They come out here, kill a few pigs, and think they've conquered the world," he muttered, almost to himself. "No fear, no hunger. Just.. going through the motions."

Bael leaned back on one arm, watching Arsine draw her claws again. He could see the sharp gleam of their silver edges as she approached her next target. She was calm, almost too calm, like she was dissecting the fight rather than living it. And yet, that calm fascinated him.

"Let's see if your poisons can do more than lull a boar to sleep," he said quietly, his tone teasing but not cruel. "Maybe they'll wake something else instead."

A faint breeze rolled through the plains, carrying the scent of metal and grass between them. Bael's grin softened into something that might almost pass for genuine. "Finish your hunt, Arsine," he said, the rare use of her name hanging oddly gentle in the air. "Then we'll see just how deep your curiosities go."

* * *

WC: 347

[Arsine 0]

Post Action Fight Boar
ID:256976   Basic Attack--> Boar Pup
BD: 4+2=6  HIT 9 Damage

Entertaining? Arsine paused at his words, shooting him a confused look. She didn't think she was doing anything too out of the ordinary. Not enough for the man to like her. He talked about how others had no fear, no hunger, going through the motions. But..wasn't that exactly what she was doing? How did she differ from others.

“Perhaps…not many come here due to…the simplicity…of the creatures.” Arsine sized up the last boar, then lifted up her leg and gave it a firm kick to its side. It squealed and rolled over, its legs dangling helplessly in the air as it struggled to right itself back up again. “The players who wish to fight are all higher. Those who do not- stay in the cities.”

“Your…comrades from yesterday… celebrated victories against these beasts no?” Arsine asked. She watched the boar, drool dripping from its maw, its eyes reddening. It seemed her taunting made it angry. “Maybe, I just do not like this battle system. But I do not feel the need to…celebrate.” Why would she, it felt boring. "I, as you say. Am doing nothing but going through the motions."
 

A single languid step toward the boar and this time, two fingers tore into its underbelly, dragging a thin red line across the exposed flesh. From neck to tail. A final anguished oink before it fell limp, and exploded into a sea of red. Arsine picked up the last boar tusk and put it away.

"Now.." She picked up the bag of truffles at his feet and pulled two out, passing one to him then carelessly plopping one into her mouth. She winced at the taste, bitter. Earthy. Definitely not meant for human consumption. Not at all like the truffles on expensive menus. She coughed as she covered her mouth. "Not..." A yawn as she found herself stumbling slightly, before she found herself completely collapsing Arsine carefully sat herself in the grass, opposite Bael. Her eyelids were heavy, a wave of drowsiness washing over her.c "Not...very tasty." She muttered before slumping forward, in a light sleep.

WC:346

Arsine | HP: 320/320 | EN: 50/50 | DMG: 9 | ACC + 2  | LD +3 
BOAR PUP HP: 0/5 | DMG: 3

Edited 4 hours ago by Arsine

[Bael 1]

Bael's eyes had been closed, his expression unreadable, until her words stirred something in him.

"Comrades?" he repeated, voice low and roughened with disdain. His eyes opened, crimson glinting faintly under the hood. "Those fools were not worthy of being anything like that to me." A slow exhale followed as his gaze trailed over the empty plains. "They celebrated small victories against beasts that could barely fight back. Laughing, pretending they were strong."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "The only victory I chase for is on the battlefield against someone else," he muttered. "Someone who can bleed, who can break, who can fight back." His tone dipped lower, laced with something that wasn't quite anger, but close. "I haven't found anyone worthy."

His attention drifted back to Arsine, watching the fluid precision of her movements. She fought like someone testing the world rather than conquering it, clinical, detached, efficient. Even her kills seemed like experiments. He found it.. strangely compelling.

Then she reached for the bag, plucked a truffle from within, and popped it into her mouth with almost reckless calm. Bael arched an eyebrow beneath the cowl, amusement tugging faintly at the corner of his mouth. When she began to sway, her posture softening, he stood and crossed the short distance between them, crouching beside her as she tried to fight the inevitable haze.

"You are quite the character, poison girl," he murmured, voice low and faintly amused. Her head tilted slightly, already slipping toward unconsciousness. For a fleeting second, Bael almost reached to steady her, but stopped himself. The instinct was strange, unnecessary. Instead, he picked up another truffle from the bag and turned it over between his fingers.

"Not something I would be interested in," he said quietly, almost to himself. Yet despite his words, he tossed it into the air and caught it neatly in his mouth. The bitterness hit first, sharp, earthy, clinging to his tongue. He grimaced. "Tch. Disgusting."

He sank down opposite her, resting the greataxe beside him. The edges of his vision softened as the sedative began to hum through his system. Bael glanced at Arsine one last time, her breathing even, peaceful.

"Maybe you'll dream something worth remembering, poison girl," he muttered before his eyes grew heavy and he drifted into a quiet, uneasy sleep.

* * *

WC: 389

[Arsine 0]

Arsine awoke, not 20 minutes later - "Ugh..." She rubbed her eyes, her limbs felt sluggish. Noted. She should not eat the truffles meant to take out a boar that was probably twice her weight. The woman was meant to return the bag to the NPC, but he wouldn't notice a few missing. Right? Arsine smoothed out her hair, emerald eyes shifting over the field till they landed on a sunken figure before her. She snorted. Not expecting him to have eaten one too. "True to your word, sleeping beast."

Into her inventory the woman went and pulled out a number of things. Two antidotes, a thermos of warm Earl Grey tea, sweetened with almond milk and vanilla sugar - and a set of prosciutto and feta sandwiches. It was enough for the two of them, a peace offering for the recent Pker - should his anger boil over. She set them to the side, then downed an antidote. Face scrunching at the bitter taste. Could Alchemists not make them sweeter? Arsine sighed as she sprawled out her legs, stretching them. The boars had been thinned out, and aside from a group of players in the distance, the fields were quiet. Peaceful, serene.

If it were not for a snore.

Arsine laughed. Not expecting the sound to come from the man. "I suppose, it would only be fair for me to aid you." She reached forward. Antidote in one hand, the other clasping his hood, ready to pull it back. She couldn't blindly pour the liquid into a shadowed face after all.

WC: 259

[Bael 1]

Bael stirred before she could even pull the hood back. His hand shot up with surprising precision, catching her wrist mid-motion. The grip wasn't cruel, but it was firm, instinctive. His eyes opened slowly, black and hazy with fatigue. "Poison girl.." his voice came out low, rough at the edges, "…are you trying to poison me?"

He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, and the small glass vial in her hand finally came into focus. Recognition flickered faintly across his face. He exhaled, loosening his hold on her wrist, letting her hand go. "Ah. Antidote." The ghost of a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Didn't think these things would actually work on us. Hmph. Maybe I should hold on to a few of those.. just in case."

His words carried that same dry humor, an odd mix of seriousness and faint amusement. When he finally opened his eyes again, he caught sight of the small picnic-like arrangement beside him: the sandwiches, the thermos, even the second vial she’d set down. His brow lifted slightly, expression unreadable. "You came prepared," he muttered, rubbing the side of his neck. "Didn't peg you for the kind to share lunch with someone who nearly gutted you a few hours ago."

He let out a quiet breath, shoulders relaxing a little as the lingering stiffness began to fade from his limbs. Whatever poison had worked through him, it hadn’t left much lasting damage, just that hollow fatigue that seemed to dull his senses. The breeze rolled through the grass again, the faint scent of herbs, truffle, and tea mingling in the air.

Bael's gaze wandered toward Arsine briefly, his expression softer now, though the sharpness behind his eyes remained. "You're full of surprises, poison girl," he said finally, his tone caught somewhere between teasing and gratitude. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to keep me alive."

He leaned his head back again, a faint smirk ghosting his lips. "Don't worry," he added, almost lazily. "I'll make sure the favor doesn't go unpaid."

* * *

WC: 361

[Arsine 0]

Arsine gasped, feeling his grip wrap around her small wrist, tightening. It didn’t hurt, and the man even seemed to adjust, loosening it slightly. “Poison?” Arsine shook her head. “No, I prefer administering antidotes. I told you before, no? I do not enjoy watching suffering.”

Bael let go of her arm and relaxed against the nearby tree. Arsine placed the vial next to him, well within his reach. Then she pulled out two of the truffles and handed them to him. “Am not sure how long they will last. Is quest item. Durability may be low.” She placed them next to the antidote, another offering.

Arsine would assume he simply had trouble sleeping. Not surprising considering how light he seemed to slumber earlier. “I always carry food such as this. I do not care to eat trash. If I am trapped here, I want to enjoy the finest things the game can offer me.”

Arsine paused, and attempted to study him, difficult considering his face was constantly shrouded - she had been close to seeing what he looked like, but he woke far too early. He told her he was planning on gutting her earlier that morning. “Hmm…you did not give me that impression. The air lacked that…” She paused trying to think of the right word in English. “Static in it - not like yesterday with your comrades.” Bael rubbed the back of his neck, his words seemed to carry hints of humour in them.

“Not surprises. Is keeping you alive? Or simply not killing you?” Arsine asked as she picked up the thermos, and began pouring them each a drink, in a little green plastic cup. Steam permeated from the Earl Grey as she placed that too by his side. 

“Why not enjoy the decadence?" Arsine asked as she gestured toward the small offering of food. “Although I suppose is relative. This is easy for me to obtain. Not for you. Not anymore.”

She picked up one of the sandwich halves and brought it to her lips, pausing to ask him a question. “Tell me. Was it worth it? Losing the ability to sleep in hotel? To buy food? I suppose. One could sneak into town. But could you?”

WC: 369

[Bael 1]

Bael's black eyes shifted toward the small spread of food and drink she had laid out. He let out a low hum, the sound part amusement, part acknowledgment. When she asked, "Tell me. Was it worth it? Losing the ability to sleep in hotel? To buy food? I suppose. One could sneak into town. But could you?" a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"If I cared about such lavish things," he said slowly, voice carrying that same quiet, sharp edge, "I wouldn't be here at all." He gestured vaguely at the open field, the quiet plains stretching out under the morning sun. "I prefer seeing the world on my own terms. The chaos, the.. unpredictability."

His eyes flicked to her, sharp beneath the shadow of his hood. "Also," he added, almost casually, "I'm sure I can find someone to bring me things from the town if the need ever truly arises. Food, potions.. whatever. A luxury like that isn't worth leaving the field for."

He leaned back slightly, the tree supporting him, his hands resting loosely on his knees. The faint sound of the boars moving in the distance reached him, but it barely drew his attention. Instead, he studied Arsine for a long moment, noting the way she carried herself, her calm efficiency, and the small but deliberate gestures she made in preparing their little repast. "You.. seem to enjoy these simple things," he said finally, tone softening just a fraction. "Not just the food. The preparation. The methodical nature of it all."

His smirk returned, though lighter this time. "I could learn something from that," he admitted, a rare hint of sincerity slipping into his words. Then he added, with a tilt of his head, "Though, don't mistake it for weakness. Poison girl.. you're far from weak."

The corners of his mouth twitched in faint amusement as he reached for the sandwich half she had offered, pausing briefly before taking a bite. The taste was simple, unassuming, but he found some small satisfaction in it. "Seems.. not terrible," he muttered. His gaze drifted back to her, black eyes sharp and unreadable beneath the hood, as if weighing every thought, every word she spoke. "But you'd best not think that generosity will keep you alive forever."

* * *

WC: 381

[Khione 0]

Post Action: RETURN TUSKS TO LYLE

Arsine quietly munched on her sandwich. Listening to how he perceived things. They were like water and oil in that way. He enjoyed simplicity. The bare minimum. Basic. Meanwhile, Arsine wanted to taste and experience only the most decadent and hedonistic of things. "I suppose." She said with a swallow. "That is where we differ. I do not care if there is chaos or not, as long as I enjoy myself. Why not adorn myself in gold, silks and finery in this place? I cannot do so outside, much like you." She gestured to him with an empty hand.  "I doubt you would do such things out there, this game gives you the freedom to indulge in that chaos."

"You.. seem to enjoy these simple things Not just the food. The preparation. The methodical nature of it all."

Arsine nodded. "Mmm. I Do. I find it rewarding. And I appreciate the compliment, but I am not a fighter. You saw me out there, I clearly do not have the heart for it." A soft laugh as he brushed silken hair behind her ear. How strange, it was so easy to talk to him.

But you'd best not think that generosity will keep you alive forever."

"Are you saying you would cut me down?" Arsine asked. Curious. What made the man decide who his targets were. Why hadn't she been marked as one?  The woman brushed the bread crumbs from her hands before pushing herself up from the ground. "Don't mistake amiable behavior for generosity, Sleeping Beast." A step backward and a small nod of her head, she supposed this was how they would part ways. "Unless you do find a way to sneak into town, perhaps this may be the last time we see each other." Although, the man had her name, he could message her. Even track her, if he had the right skills. But skills meant nothing when the constraints of the game would limit his movements.

"I do not believe in the insane ramblings of a man in the sky who has trapped us here, but it does not mean I seek a blade to my throat. Or an axe to my back. Take care, Bael. Enjoy your Truffles."

And with that Arsine left. Bael to his own devices, admittedly, a little curious to see if he would follow. Would she be his prey? A target? Something about that...felt a little exhilarating.

Returning to the town, then to the blacksmith Arsine placed the three boar tusks on the counter, along with the small satchel, much lighter than earlier. Lyle came up to her, explaining how he used the boar tusks on hilts. He paused, as he picked up the bag, giving it a shake.”Little light on the truffles, eh?”

Arsine shrugged, “I used both methods to obtain your tusks, is no issue.”

Lyle nodded, then immediately went on a tangent about how he would never take any money from Dorian, and told her about her next point of contact. A fisherman named Pete Larkin. Arsine sighed, running a hand through her hair. She really hoped this was the last of the quest. It seemed so long…and seemingly so pointless.

Leaving the blacksmith Arsine glanced around, would she see a hooded figure in the streets? Shifting from dark alley to dark alley? Funny that, she almost missed Baels company.

The green woman began to make her way to the docks, to hopefully finish the last part of this long and tedious questline. “Need bath…” She muttered to herself, as she stepped onto the docks, nose wrinkling at the smell of fish and bait. “Long bath. Many bubbles.” A small smile on her lips as she tapped them. “Mayhaps…can convince someone to wash me.”

WC: 625

[Arsine 0]

Post Action: RETURN TUSKS TO LYLE

Arsine quietly munched on her sandwich. Listening to how he perceived things. They were like water and oil in that way. He enjoyed simplicity. The bare minimum. Basic. Meanwhile, Arsine wanted to taste and experience only the most decadent and hedonistic of things. "I suppose." She said with a swallow. "That is where we differ. I do not care if there is chaos or not, as long as I enjoy myself. Why not adorn myself in gold, silks and finery in this place? I cannot do so outside, much like you." She gestured to him with an empty hand.  "I doubt you would do such things out there, this game gives you the freedom to indulge in that chaos."

"You.. seem to enjoy these simple things Not just the food. The preparation. The methodical nature of it all."

Arsine nodded. "Mmm. I Do. I find it rewarding. And I appreciate the compliment, but I am not a fighter. You saw me out there, I clearly do not have the heart for it." A soft laugh as he brushed silken hair behind her ear. How strange, it was so easy to talk to him.

But you'd best not think that generosity will keep you alive forever."

"Are you saying you would cut me down?" Arsine asked. Curious. What made the man decide who his targets were. Why hadn't she been marked as one?  The woman brushed the bread crumbs from her hands before pushing herself up from the ground. "Don't mistake amiable behavior for generosity, Sleeping Beast." A step backward and a small nod of her head, she supposed this was how they would part ways. "Unless you do find a way to sneak into town, perhaps this may be the last time we see each other." Although, the man had her name, he could message her. Even track her, if he had the right skills. But skills meant nothing when the constraints of the game would limit his movements.

"I do not believe in the insane ramblings of a man in the sky who has trapped us here, but it does not mean I seek a blade to my throat. Or an axe to my back. Take care, Bael. Enjoy your Truffles."

And with that Arsine left. Bael to his own devices, admittedly, a little curious to see if he would follow. Would she be his prey? A target? Something about that...felt a little exhilarating.

Returning to the town, then to the blacksmith Arsine placed the three boar tusks on the counter, along with the small satchel, much lighter than earlier. Lyle came up to her, explaining how he used the boar tusks on hilts. He paused, as he picked up the bag, giving it a shake.”Little light on the truffles, eh?”

Arsine shrugged, “I used both methods to obtain your tusks, is no issue.”

Lyle nodded, then immediately went on a tangent about how he would never take any money from Dorian, and told her about her next point of contact. A fisherman named Pete Larkin. Arsine sighed, running a hand through her hair. She really hoped this was the last of the quest. It seemed so long…and seemingly so pointless.

Leaving the blacksmith Arsine glanced around, would she see a hooded figure in the streets? Shifting from dark alley to dark alley? Funny that, she almost missed Baels company.

The green woman began to make her way to the docks, to hopefully finish the last part of this long and tedious questline. “Need bath…” She muttered to herself, as she stepped onto the docks, nose wrinkling at the smell of fish and bait. “Long bath. Many bubbles.” A small smile on her lips as she tapped them. “Mayhaps…can convince someone to wash me.”

WC: 625

[Bael 1]

Bael couldn't help but smirk at her words. "Don't mistake amiable behavior for generosity, Sleeping Beast," she had said, and he let the corner of his mouth twitch upward. Someone who remained unafraid, even after witnessing his actions, was rare. That alone piqued his interest. He leaned further against the tree trunk, arms crossed loosely, watching her prepare to leave, her movements casual, yet deliberate.

"As for seeing each other again.." he murmured, voice low but carrying a teasing edge. "I have a feeling this won't be the last time. Even if I have to cut down everyone, I'll find you again." There was a hint of humor in the words, though the underlying intent was unmistakable. He turned his gaze to the truffles she left behind, picking one up and twirling it deftly between his fingers. "I will enjoy it.." he muttered to himself, as he watched her fade into the distance, the green of her outfit blending with the bright morning fields.

Once she was gone, Bael pushed off the tree and began to stroll across the plains. The familiar crunch of grass and dirt underfoot was oddly satisfying. Players scattered at the first sign of him, recognizing the cursor above his hooded head and fleeing for their lives. He sighed lightly, though it held no frustration, only the dull tinge of boredom. So few sought true confrontation. So few had the courage to raise a blade against him.

Eventually, a lone shout carried across the plains. One of the frightened players, desperate for aid, called for backup. Moments later, a small party emerged, three players, clearly coordinating their approach. The lead, Deo, was tall and broad, flanked by Alyosha and Kirilike. Their cursors glimmered with determination, the faint aura of teamwork surrounding them.

Bael's black eyes swept over the trio, unamused. They believed themselves heroes in some fairytale scenario, their courage shining brighter than their actual skill. He ignored their words at first, letting them approach, letting the tension build. They didn't understand. They could not comprehend the sort of presence that he carried, the cold, deliberate control of the battlefield that came without effort.

Finally, Bael crouched slightly, letting the morning breeze brush against his hooded face. "So," he murmured to himself, almost lazily, "Another attempt. How.. quaint." The three players halted a few paces away, uncertain, but Bael's silence was more terrifying than any shout. The plains seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see if these would-be heroes would falter, or if they would give him the smallest spark of amusement.

He let out a low, satisfied hum. "Very well. Let's see how long you last."

* * *

WC: 442

[Arsine 0]

Post Action: SEARCH NETTING (ld 15+ REQUIRED)
ID:256978 LD: 8 FAIL
ID:256979 LD:4 FAIL
ID:256980 LD: 1 FAIL
ID:256981 LD: 9 FAIL
ID: 256982: LD: 20 SUCCESS
 

Arsine approached Pete at the dock as he was tying off his small boat. A peak over his shoulder showed that his load was filled with a variety of traps, filled with lobsters, crabs and the like. Once again this is an older man with a long beard. Arsine was noticing a trend.

“Excuse me, Sir - I believe you owe someone money.”

The old man bellowed, a deep and hearty laugh. Mentioned something about the Mayor making players do his dirty work. So the NPCs were self aware? Good to know. A sigh of relief when he said he’d give Alinta the money, only for it to turn into a groan and a headache when he asked her to help pull it out of the tangled mess on his boat.

“You….are joking…yes?” Arsine asked, clearly disgusted.
 

"Aye lass, a little dirty work wouldn’t hurt ya!”

Arsine stepped up onto the boat, and started to search the netting. Lifting up rotting ropes with disdain, picking up traps that harboured lobsters, the woman was spilling seawater all over herself. “Is not how I wish to get wet…” She muttered dryly. Finally…finally she found a small chest. She lifted it up, a tiny wooden thing gilded in gold and covered in barnacles.

“Is this?”

Pete nodded. “Do this old fool a favour and open it up for me?”

Arsine crossed her legs, and opened up her messenger.

Arsine→ Bael: You may be right, this questline is bothersome. I do not care for it at all. Much nicer out there in the dirt and fields of your little chaos camp. I am in need of a long shower, or bath. Perhaps both. Is a shame you cannot experience those things anymore, Sleeping Beast.



WC: 290

Edited 53 minutes ago by Arsine

[Bael 1]

As Bael stood among the sunlit plains, his blade loosely hanging at his side, a faint chime echoed in his ear, an incoming message. The interface flickered across his vision, Arsine's name displayed in delicate script.

Arsine --> Bael:
You may be right, this questline is bothersome. I do not care for it at all. Much nicer out there in the dirt and fields of your little chaos camp. I am in need of a long shower, or bath. Perhaps both. Is a shame you cannot experience those things anymore, Sleeping Beast.

Bael's lips curved into a thin smirk. He read the message twice before typing back with deliberate ease.

Bael --> Arsine:
I'm sure there is a place I can experience those things. I don't need to enter the town for that.

He stared at the words for a moment longer, as if committing her tone to memory, the teasing yet detached cadence she always carried, before swiping the messenger window away. The flicker of the translucent screen faded into the morning light.

His focus returned to the three players now surrounding him in a loose semicircle. Deo, the self-proclaimed leader, had his sword drawn, gleaming with a polished blue aura. Alyosha readied a spear while Kirilike notched an arrow. They believed their numbers gave them a chance.

Bael's smirk deepened.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of Arsine’s truffles, the dark, earthy treat glinting faintly in the sun. "I'm tired of these cut-scenes.." he said, voice carrying like a low rumble across the field. Then, with a casual flick, he tossed the truffle straight at Deo's chest. "Come at me!" he roared, his laughter echoing like a blade striking steel.

The air changed. Alyosha lunged first, spear aimed for Bael's side. Bael sidestepped effortlessly, letting the weapon scrape harmlessly against the dirt before his hand shot out, grabbing the shaft. A sharp twist, Alyosha stumbled, balance broken, and Bael's boot came down hard, sending the player sprawling backward with a grunt.

Deo shouted something, but Bael was already moving, slipping through their formation with fluid precision. His blade, blackened and chipped from countless encounters, carved through the air with a hiss. Sparks flew as Deo blocked, the impact driving him a step back. Kirilike fired, Bael tilted his head just enough for the arrow to graze his hood.

"Predictable," he muttered.

His movements were clean, deliberate, no wasted effort, no needless flourish. Within moments, Alyosha's health bar plummeted to red. Kirilike's bow was kicked from her grasp, and Deo found himself pressed against the edge of his own courage.

Bael's laughter faded into a calm silence as he stood amid the broken party. "You heroes," he murmured, voice low but cutting. "You never learn."

* * *

WC: 459

[Arsine 0]

Post Action: OPEN CHEST
ID: 256983  LD:1 CD: 9

MIMIC ATTACKS ID: 256984 MOB:2 MISS
 

Not expecting him to reply, for the woman wasn’t even sure she had spelt his name properly Arsine instead shifted her attention to the tiny chest, giving it a shake. Wondering what was inside. She tried to open it but the damn chest came to life, "A Mimic!?" Arsine shouted Throwing it back as its gnarled teeth tried to snap her wrist clean off. "This is disgusting!" She muttered, a rare flare of anger upon her features as she looked up at Pete. "You sick man! This is not one of those.... adult novellas. I take no joy from such a beast!" 

Pete barely seemed to notice, he gave a shrug, and a bright grin. “Guess the contents of that chest are not enough to settle my debts.”

“No. They very well aren’t!” Arsine muttered, half a mind to rip the smile off of his face. Arsine noticed a reply to her message; but was unable to respond, too busy dealing with…whatever the hell just spawned.

The woman swore several times in Russian. She best not get a orange cursor for this.

 

WC: 182

 

Mimic HP 192/192 Damage: 64
Arsine | HP: 320/320 | EN: 50/50 | DMG: 9 | ACC + 2  | LD +3 

Edited 27 minutes ago by Arsine

[Bael 1]

Bael moved like a shadow made solid, slow, economical, everything calibrated to end things quickly. Deo's bravado cracked under the weight of his first real strike; the blade he trusted couldn't find purchase against Bael's defense, and when it did, the answer came back with the force of a falling tree. Sparks showered; Deo's posture folded inward and for a single breath he looked older than his avatar should have, doubt flaring bright and ugly across his face.

Alyosha had tried to be useful, lunging with the spear, but Bael met the thrust and redirected it with a single practiced twist. The man's momentum betrayed him; he sailed forward and hit the ground hard. Before he could scramble, Bael's boot pressed down, the system registering the fatal blow as lines of code unwound. Alyosha's health bar collapsed, and his form dissolved into the familiar cascade of motes, golden, then fading, until even the light was gone. No items, no trace, no legacy. Just deletion.

Kirilike's arrow hissed through the air, true and fast, but Bael was already where it needed to be. He shrugged the projectile aside, closed the distance, and ended the archer's struggle with a movement that was astonishingly small: a nudge of the greataxe's haft that sent her stumbling into a root. Her avatar shattered in a spray of pixels before she could cry out, a silent scream carried off by the wind.

Deo made a last, earnest lunge, a leader's final gamble, and for a moment it looked as if pride might steady him. Bael met him cleanly. The greataxe came down, not with flourish but with cold certainty. Deo's form split into data around the impact, light and geometry spilling outward until nothing remained but the quiet and the soft rustle of grass.

For a breath, Bael watched the pixels fall. The black of his eyes flared, an aberration at the rim, like coals waking ember-red, then settled back to their unyielding dark. He felt nothing like triumph; what flickered was a clinical satisfaction, the same brief alignment of cause and effect he felt when a mechanism finally obeyed. The field, recently alive with shouts and hope, slid back toward its usual hush.

Around him, other players who'd watched from a safe distance ran, message pings scattering across the plains. Those who saw the cursor over his head fled faster still. Bael sheathed the greataxe slowly, the motion neat and almost polite, as if tucking away a tool once the job was done.

He glanced once toward the path Arsine had taken earlier, thinking of her easy composure and the way she’d sat and eaten truffles beside him. The notion of hunt and curiosity braided in his chest for an instant, then unraveled into a single thought. There were always more fields to cross, more players to test. If she wished to remain curious, he would find the time to indulge that curiosity again.

Bael turned, boots sinking into the grass, and walked away from the remnants of the party. The plains were quieter now, but not empty. He would wait. The next folly would come, and when it did, the plains would scream once more.

* * *

Spoiler

Deo etched onto the Monument of Life.
Alyosha etched onto the Monument of Life.
Kirilike etched onto the Monument of Life.

WC: 531

[Arsine 0]

"Post Action | [x11] AOE-I (11 + (2 * 1 Targets = 2) EN)
ID: 256985 | 4 + 2 = 6  | Hit vs. Mimic Dealing 99 Damage
MOB: 2 MISS!

 

The woman kicked the mimic, booting it off of the boat then she ran on the plank connecting it to the dock and turned to face it. Just a creature. It was just like the boars. Although this one seemed much stronger. Her claws flashed as the woman activated a Sword Art - something she hadn’t done previously - and charged, ducking under a swaying tongue.

Its tongue, which was at least three times the size of the tiny little chest -managed to loop around and trip Arsine, wrapping around her leg. She kicked at it, frustrated. “Get off! Disgusting! Vile! Cretin!” Her hands griped is tongue, trying to pry her leg free, but they weren’t finding any kind of grip. So instead of trying to pry it off, the woman used her Sword Art, and attempted to tear the tongue clean off off her leg, all the white the fisherman stood and laughed at her.

WC: 156

Arsine | HP: 320/320 | EN: 50/50 -11= 31 EN | DMG: 9 | ACC + 2  | LD +3 
Mimic HP 93/192 192 -99= 93| Damage: 64

Edited just now by Arsine