[PP-F3] The honing of blades, minds, and bodies

[Caelam 0]

Caelam lifted his face and closed his eyes, letting the sun warm his skin. He'd always been fond of the third floor. With its vast prairies and elfkin NPC's, it almost seemed a world apart from the deadly game. A place of peace. Yet within its vast grasslands and mist-shrouded forests, mobs as dangerous as any other lurked. Death could come just as easily here as on the other floors. Still, it was hard not to think of this place as a sanctuary.

Breathing out a sigh of content, Caelam turned to his companion. "We can begin here, if you want, or go further out. I think the mobs are set at a pretty consistent level all throughout this floor." Except for in the forest, where deadly creatures stalked players through the mists. He'd never set foot into those haunted woods, but there was a first time for everything.

Dropping a hand to the hilt of his blade, the youth trudged to the top of a nearby ridge for a better view. The prairie stretched out for miles, a vast green canvas. Down below a few mobs scurried about- boars, the weakest of the creatures of Aincrad. It was strange to think that once they had seemed threatening, dangerous even. Now he felt nothing as he watched them trundle along, rooting through the grass.

The Anneal blade snaked out of its sheath with a long whisper. He gave it a few swings, testing its balance, and smiled to himself. The one handed sword would suit him much better than his spear. And the extra damage it dealt would come in handy. All in all, it was a fine weapon to have at his level. Resting the blade on his shoulder, he waited for Alkor to join him atop the ridge.

[Guest]

His expression masked by the dark hood of his cloak, Alkor took his place on the ridge beside Caelam in a crouched position. They surveyed an entire world from their vantage point, and the stronger player glanced over at Caelam as if reading his thoughts. "You want to get stronger," Alkor noted passively.

It was a fair desire. They both held it, but Caelam almost certainly felt as though he were in Alkor's shadow. The other man could feel it. The tension there was palpable, the desire to move forward like blood from a gaping wound. It kept flowing, gushing out. "Let's start with some of the more basic creatures on the floor," Alkor decided. "We're not jumping headlong into anything in that labyrinthine forest."

Alkor drew his hood and turned toward the path. "We'll move out from here into the fields that skirt the outer edge of the forest." His amber gaze melted like the sunset over the floor that spread out before them. "You can get some more experience before we go after what people say lurks there."

Neither of them were any good dead. Caelam had to know that. Alkor wagered he'd understand the sentiment. "The front lines are waiting for us."

[Caelam 0]

"Aye, captain." He tipped Alkor a sarcastic salute, but no smile bowed his lips, and his pale eyes were untouched. The older boy was right, he did want to get stronger. And for now, that was all he wanted. Dreams of freedom lay forgotten, as did the comfort of companionship. All that remained was the blade in his hands and the desire that gnawed at him.

He let Alkor take point as they set out. Blade at the ready, Caelam followed a few paces behind and off to the side, gaze constantly scanning for enemies. Occasionally his attention would shift to the hooded figure loping ahead of him, but always it would return to the horizon. The sudden distance between their levels was an annoyance, but little more. Were it to grow any larger, though, it could become something more serious. I will not be carried, he swore to himself.

Their path carried them in a wide arc around the edge of the dread forest, through friendlier plains basked in the warm glow of a falling sun. Beneath those black, skeletal trees, no light penetrated. Even from this distance Caelam noted the wisps of fog curling between their branches. Shivering despite himself, the youth averted his gaze.

To the left a trio of wolves were making their way across the plains. At this distance they paid them no mind, the players far outside their range of aggression. He made a noise to get Alkor's attention and pointed them out, but didn't break stride. For now he was following the older boy's lead.

[Guest]

Alkor heard Caelam's catcall and turned his gaze in the direction that the youth pointed. Wolves on this floor were quite a way stronger than the ones that he'd fought on the first floor, but it would most likely be little different. Just more HP to break down, and possibly harder hits to weather.

"Alright," Alkor drawled. "Wolves it is."

He turned their march to target the wolves, and their pace kept steady. As they drew closer, howls from the mobs and beyond became apparent, and grew louder. Alkor frowned just a bit; if he weren't wrong, forestral wolves were more ferocious pack animals, and with the right calls, they might even be able to call out for help. Better kill them quickly, he quietly resolved. It might be better not to worry Caelam over a possibility that he hadn't confirmed.

Still, the worry slowed Alkor's pace just a bit. "All three at once," he glanced over to Caelam. "You're certain you want to play it that way?"

[Caelam 0]

"Scared?" He asked without looking away from the mobs. It was obviously a jest, and yet his pale eyes were icy, his mouth unsmiling. The Anneal blade weighed heavy in his grip as he approached the wolves. There was little ceremony to his movements, just a silent charge to the herald of snapping fangs and howls. He was careful to remain in stride with his companion, so they'd reach the foe together, but other than that he had eyes for nothing but the wolf on the far left. Splitting away from Alkor suddenly and trusting he would realize the tactic, Caelam circled off to the side and found the mob charging out to meet him.

It was too late to see how the other two wolves reacted, or what Alkor was doing. There was time only to raise his blade, give a ragged shout, and then leap forward, hips and shoulders pivoting to throw as much force behind the sword as he could manage. It whispered through the air, razor's edge gleaming, in a clumsy chop to the top of the wolf's skull.

The impact of it nearly jarred the sword from his grip. Somehow he held on, and even managed to keep his footing as the wolf leapt away, yelping and snarling. The crimson scar that slashed down across its muzzle was already fading. He wagered it would soon regain its courage. Eyes blazing, Caelam straightened and turned to see how Alkor fared.

Caelam deals 3 damage! (1 base+ 1 weapon+ 1 skill)

Caelam 11/11

Alkor 16/16

Wolf 1 12/12

Wolf 2 9/12

Wolf 3 12/12

[Guest]

"For you," Alkor muttered as Caelam rushed headlong into combat with the wolves. It meant that he had to back the other man, for better or worse. It also meant that he needed to work quickly to be sure the wolves didn't take Caelam's unorthodox entrance as an invitation to feast on his flesh.

Right there with you. Alkor leveled his own weapon as he raced forward in a cross pattern adjacent to Caelam. His own movements were a bit more fluid, practiced. It came with level, he decided, as his swordsman spirit just kept getting stronger as he increased his experience.

He who increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

Alkor came in on the tail end of the wolves' stratagem, and the two wolves who had yet to take any damage cut him off from regrouping with Caelam, menacing growls heralding their attack. Alkor raised his blade and stared through slit-narrowed eyelids at the two beasts. The one to his right pounced first, and he brought his weapon up to block.

The creature tore at his flesh with monstrous claws, but came away without dealing damage to him.

Alkor misses. (No damage taken due to armor mitigation)

Alkor 17/17

Caelam 11/11

Wolf 1 9/12

Wolf 2 12/122

Wolf 3 12/12

[Caelam 0]

He saw Alkor cut off the two other wolves before they could flank him and smiled to himself. He'd been counting on Alkor to back him up; it was good to see he was up to the task. His attention returned to his own wolf, who was eying him warily and attempting to circle to his left. The fur on the back of its neck was standing on end, and a low, dangerous growl rumbled in its throat. Caelam offered it a sneer, and then stepped forward quick as a whip, the Anneal blade lashing out in a cut at the beast's foreleg.

The wolf leapt backward, but not in time to avoid the last inch of Caelam's sword. It traced a digital scar across the mob's leg as it retreated, and drew a yelp of pain from its maw. Circling away, the youth put himself between Alkor and the wolf, retreating until they were nearly back to back. What better way to cover all angles?

Caelam deals 3 damage! (1 base +1 weapon +1 skill)

Alkor

Caelam 11/11

Wolf 1 (6/12)

Wolf 2 (12/12)

Wolf 3 (12/12)

[Guest]

Backs facing one another, the two swordsmen stood valiantly against foes from all sides. Alkor leaned forward just a fraction, the blade nearly parallel to his body albeit at an angle. "You just love your melodrama, hm?" Amber firelight glowed softly in his gaze as he smirked content lyrics at the mobs, growling and circling in their feral, programmed manner. The chestnut haired boy didn't need to move to feel them, now, hot breath streaming through the wind and telegraphing their positions to both their supposed "victims." Alkor seized the opportunity to see just how much Caelam had learned about the game's little quirks. "Can you feel it?" He asked suddenly, breaking the tension with a nonsensical query.

"The system caters toward senses that, in real life, we never had. But those senses are real, and they're really there. We just never tapped them before now," Alkor explained. "Martial artists can use them. You know, the heightened alertness and awareness, inexplicable phenomena where a man has dodged narrowly away from having his face mauled off by a dog, or knowing something terrible was going to happen?"

It seemed like a strange time for this, yet it also felt oddly perfect. "In the old times, when Samurai and Knights trained themselves, they had a sense beyond the natural. Call it a "fighter's" sense," Alkor lifted his blade just a bit, and one of the wolves seemed to flinch. Alkor saw the twitch reaction, and he turned his awareness on that wolf. That would be the one who pounced first. It had an awful case of trigger finger. "This game taps directly into your brain waves and by extension, your nervous system. It slowly teaches us to draw out that sense. Take a second. Feel it."

Alkor raked his blade up as he wolf tensed its muscles. The jaws encroached on him, and he watched intently. There was no fear in Alkor; he let his body move on instinct, putting the weapon in harm's way. The wolf latched on his arm with its teeth, and Alkor punched it in the snout. It cowered back, whining in high pitched yelps. "Parasite," Alkor snorted.

Alkor takes no damage due to mitigation. (-2)

Alkor 17/17

Caelam 11/11

Wolf 1 (6/12)

Wolf 2 (12/12)

Wolf 3 (12/12)