Arabelle

vision and mobility is quite the understatement for how the only afflicted member of the party had looked, but if arabelle were to take cordelia at her word, she really wouldn’t care at all. the physical discomfort – she’ll deal. this boss is so massive and consequently so loud that she could project all of its attacks blind. look, here is another one to compete. the party had switched tanks briefly, she had glimpsed, and now the original is back in the running and he is starting up the old racket. arabelle spins around, grit teeth, her back facing their knightly support. perhaps she

it takes a great amount of an-typical stammering and fumbling, 'no, it's fine, really!'s, for her friend to let arabelle hold on to her baggage as she rushes off into the stable with ashvini to prepare. waiting, arabelle slightly indulges her curiosity. the bag is made out of cloth, closed at the top with a drawstring. it would be rude to open it outright and poke about an's things, but nothing stops arabelle from trying to feel out the shapes of its contents through the fabric. these are... bowls? more additions to the dragon hoard of items an likes to keep in her shop? the clop of

#

#

#

# 2/2 en

# 1/2 en; srona post action

#

#

#

this is a bigger pack than the last one. perhaps less players had been by to thin the herd -- one would hardly care about the next three legs of the quest when the barest minimum needed to achieve completion status was a delivery to a single city. it was unlocking the sequel that anyone needed to go all the extra trouble for. whether arabelle herself would run this quest to its full course is all down to her whimsy, honestly. she heard it wasn’t anything unusual in terms of experience or reward. certainly not the sort she would clamor to get firsthand experience of. thankfully arabelle is

more and more pop up at the sound of their fellows being killed. oh, she had stumbled into an entire pack of them…! sword art in constant activation, the spinning gears of her weapon working in overdrive to carry itself forward in the rare cases she falls just short, arabelle hacks, tears, and decapitates every leech that dares to be drawn to the commotion she is kicking up on her side of the woods. she falls seamlessly back into the routine of killing everything in sight. she enjoys it, or, well, normally it is more fun beating up things that could actually put up a fight; it makes

but she isn't too serious about it. all the fun is in ronbaru and in the satisfaction she gets from uprooting leeches. out the city gates. arabelle marks her next destination on the map -- ylvon, srona to the east -- and compares it to her current location, turning herself in the direction of the mountain roads that would take her there the fastest. still, there are stretches of road where it bends, taking a longer route around to avoid some obstacle that she could easily skip because she is going on foot. that is also where the mobs she is looking for tend to rest. once again, she must p

the npc takes the flimsy the player was holding out to them. the npc then does a double take at the player and her visible lack of the aforementioned supplies. arabelle smiles, the bright window of her menu still floating in front of her. "...and where is the delivery?" the npc asks, weary. "here." arabelle looks down and pokes a button on her interface. then she clears the way, taking a step back. five crates stacked in a pyramid fall to the ground with a heavy thud. "that should be all." she snags a braid from the npc's wrist, twirls it in the air, nonchalant. "enjoy." one dow

see: everything turns out just fine. arabelle makes it into vesh without spotting another leech. as she crosses the boundary, she collapses her scythe back into a key. pockets it and twines her fingers behind her back, tipping her head skyward (ceilingward?) to look at the colorful streamers, and the strings of bright yellow flowers wound loosely around them, criss-crossing the streets. there had been an entire queue of wagons waiting to be admitted at the gates. and inspections. she had simply bypassed all of them, walking unnoticed past oblivious guards. if they could barely catch playe

so she readies her weapon and splits from the main road. she bounds across a field dotted with colored crystals. a single heavy swing takes out a line of four. then she winds her scythe back up. another group of leeches is close behind the vanguard, slithering forward on thick crawling vines. their bulbs open. she twirls on her feet, letting the momentum from her previous strike carry her into the next, and in the split second that her back is turned the living plants fling needles of thorns. their attacks evaporate. none of them have even the slightest chance of hitting her. she has

the plants' remains crumple to the ground, and quite proud of herself, arabelle executes an about-face, wandering back to the light of the ground crystals. her scythe feels heavier in her hands and she feels the beginnings of exhaustion spreading from her chest to her limbs. she keeps following the trade route. if she doesn't take too much detours, she'll make it to the first delivery point in time with her energy dropping to zero. then she can handle her business and shop around vesh a little while waiting for it to regenerate, as opposed to troubling herself with finding a place to rest out

she shuts them up. in the patch of forest she's stepped into, there are fewer crystals above and below. the light is at her back. holding her scythe defensively across her, arabelle's eyes catch unusual movements in the dark. another group has sprung up and quite foolishly the four leeches are coming after her rather than running away. oh well, makes the hunt easier. spinning back her weapon, blade tip to the ground, it begins to whir. she grips the stem with one arm above her head and the other behind her and she casually backs up -- just one step. with no sight, she waits for the s

area cleared. arabelle runs further down the road, already winding up another sword art. the gears at the head of her weapon spin like clockwork. thrum. as much as she wants to keep circling back, carefully rooting out individual sprouts as she would have done had the infection struck her own garden, she has places to be and her energy is best spent on killing clusters. she's walking back anyway. the next set of victims detach themselves from the base of a tree. their bulbous heads turn the approaching player's way and the petals open, the prey animal instinct of making oneself bigge

where the flowers are blooming in abundance for diwali, there the leeches are also. the living plants are everywhere. they are easy to spot even in floor 27's eternal night. they dig at the soil beneath ronbaru's outer walls. they sup from the roots and stems and trunks of whatever flora they could latch onto -- many of which happen to be the flowers hiten is asking for. these are as good as dead, for the weeds had wrapped so tightly around the blooms that they had practically subsumed them, but arabelle could still beat a handful of petals out of them. she mourns for them, but the only t

it takes her an annoyingly long time. then she spins on her heel with finality and exits the logistics hub, leaving the empty wagon behind. no one ever told her how she ought to deliver the goods, only that they had to make it to their destinations. thank cardinal for systematically embedded superpowers! players take it for granted almost every day, but these npcs couldn't fathom disappearing an entire city's worth of cargo then rematerializing them later in a different place with no tradebacks at all. her steps light as always, arabelle reaches the edge of ronbaru and retrieves a key fro

arabelle learns that she is not quite immune to losing things either. (received.) 5,400 Col -> Bistro

this boy's food is awful but in the end she cannot resist the allure of cheap prices. and aincrad lacks for better option. who knew the cook profession was so unpopular? or rather were their buffs so coveted that guilds closed their crafters off to the public? these musings wander through arabelle's mind as she, quite reluctantly, seats herself on a folding chair and waits for her order. she props her chin on her palm and watches the boy go through the motions of preparing the food. oh. she gets it. she doesn't think he's even adding sugar! on sweets, nonetheless. what a weirdo.

Skill(s) Being Dropped: Charge (10), Quick Change (8) Mod(s)/Addon(s)/Shift(s) Being Dropped: -- SP Incurred Towards Limit: 18 SP Refunded: 18 Cost: 18,000 Col

it's your favorite magical girl! ♡ arabelle, ever the helpful girl that she is, pops by ronbaru's logistics hub, carrying a flyer they had put forth requesting the assistance of players. the task was simple. floor 27, with so many of its residents having gone off to party, and the 'party' eating up triple more resources than a regular day, is in need of a lot of grunts, as many grunts as it could get, to transport goods across its cities. it offers meager compensation and a 'chance to see dagan, srona, braso, and ordsea's local ce