Alkor

The bear had thrown him aside, hard enough to slam into a nearby tree and splinter it. Aching in the muck, Alkor had spent the last minute from his spinning head. Koga had seized the moment, jumping in heroically to take Callisto's attention for himself- for better or for worse. That wasn't ideal, even if he had come prepared to do just that. Koga was equipped to hold on to the hate, but not to keep it for long. This was the contingency. Give Alkor enough time to collect himself so that he could do the job he was supposed to be doing. Now, it was his turn to return the favor. Keep Koga alive,

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Undaunted as the creature pounced with a savage grace that seemed unreal given its form, Alkor stood fast. The creature assailed him with putrid breath, roaring in his face as it bared ichorous fangs, flesh sloughing off bone and sinew. He had just enough time to make notice of a chip in its half-gone face, a place where the ursine skull faltered. When it practically unhinged its jaw and brought its wicked fangs to bear, one hand plunged fingers into the hole, securing an iron grip. It was going to get hold of him, but that worked in everyone's favor. Alkor, after all, had always intended

They had only just broken into their groups, but it seemed that the enemy would not give them time to regroup. A guttural sound permeated the pit of death, the unholy marriage between a beastial roar and a charnel house. The others threw themselves full tilt toward the creature, fully eschewing greater caution in favor of destructive output. Rather, in doing so, they placed full faith in the supporting cast to carry out the more grim labors. Keeping the troupe alive. Preventing them from taking lethal damage. Standing between them and certain death. There had been a time when Alkor failed

A wraith shambled into the room, at home with its surroundings. The hood that fell over his eyes cast a shadow over most of his face, beyond the pale jawline and thin line that formed his lips. He blew through the stench of death like a black wind, carrying it with him like an old, haggard friend. Perhaps it was- twice now he had faced the strongest creatures of Aincrad, once to sleep for what seemed like an eternity. He did not fear it the way he once did; yet in not fearing it, the Phoenix had learned the importance of staving it off. Like a creature denied oblivion, he crawled the sur

When the message came, Alkor was sat in the lazy rays of late afternoon orange that bled down over the 24th floor. The endless crash of waves from far below flowed together like a symphony, singing mind-numbingly beautiful Oblivion to someone desperate for silence. This was one of the few places he could isolate himself, on the property that he owned and did not have to share with anyone else. Sadly, the respite was to be short lived. After the boss meeting, there was a short window where they could do what they needed to prepare. For Alkor, that meant the rest and solitude he needed to c

Sunlight spilled out over the falls like gilded ink, slowly spreading to engulf the Elven city. Dawn and Dusk were spectacles unmatched in Ellesmera, designed by the great smiths and other artisans to truly capture the beauty of nature as it was, not as they might wish for it to be. The beauty of life existed in fleeting moments, never able to be captured but for the precious memories that remained in the thereafter. This was a truth the Elves had learned that many other races, other civilizations had not. Mankind attempted its greatest works with the presumption that their greatest minds

He locked gazes with Koga for a moment, though neither of them had to say a word. It was understood implicitly between both parties. The planning portion of the raid was important, mind; but many of them had been there for a time already, and things on that front were already well in hand. The best that Koga or Alkor could do was place themselves, and Koga spoke so Alkor didn't have to. The two of them would be in the third party, acting as the bulwark between their teammates and certain death. It wasn't like his old role as DPS, and after his own brush with mortality, Alkor understood the nee

To be frank, he wasn't interested in the social aspect of the meeting. That was always the case with Alkor, though. Whenever it came to the real meat and bones of Aincrad, the bloody stuff where people could get killed and never come back, he didn't even pretend. The mask that he donned mostly for everyone else's sake came off long before he entered the room, a grim expression and bags beneath his eyes evidence that he had spent far too long contemplating the coming trial. The last boss fight had spent him, sending him into a deep and dark depression that he still had yet to come to grip

He swayed as the others raced into action around him, holding a hand over his mouth to stifle any further vomiting. To say that his equilibrium had suddenly been thrown off would have been an understatement- Alkor felt like he had been afflicted with a sudden and terrible case of vertigo, seemingly induced by the boss' malefic aura coupled with some kind of stunning attack. Two could play at that game. Still channeling his rage and determination, the virulent, hazy red aura surged around him as Alkor drew on his violent and wild tendencies to further enhance his next strike. The darkness

Wushen centered its gaze on him as his defiance mounted. Alkor could feel the blood pumping in his veins, the adrenaline flowing like fire. Indignation coalesced with fury, together with determination to keep him on his feet. He faced down the primordial entity like a man who had come toe to toe with his own maker. It was too late to run, even if he wanted to. But the glare intensified, and the creature balked at his existence. The very fear-turned-strength that brought him to this point twisted inside his gut, wrenching it. Alkor reached down suddenly and grabbed at his stomach, a wave o

The most important thing now was that the boss kept its attention focused where it would do the least harm. With Alkor steadily healing off and taking considerably less damage on hit than his compatriots would, there were no doubts. Giant evil dragon beast had gone untargetable, and many heads were swooping in and harassing each group, all of them with different aspects. What those entailed mattered considerably less than staying alive. Hell, they'd figure out what they did as they attacked. Alkor glanced at the Cooldown timer as it refreshed on his taunt, and his body began to glow

When she mentioned that it would be a misbegotten situation that saw her put into the line of fire, Alkor showed no small amount of appreciation for her acceptance of the role she had chosen. It was difficult to relegate oneself to something less glorious than adventure, he thought. In a world where the sky was the limit, binding oneself to the dirt and creating magical treasures and tools for others to use but never to truly enjoy for oneself seemed like a special kind of hell. He could imagine that fear might drive some Players to never want to travel or endanger themselves, but how long cou

He had to keep the creature attacking him, even if it's attention were never directly given to any one member of the raid. It seemed to react to the highest accumulated hate, but that number also seemed to fluctuate wildly. As a result, NIGHT, Alkor, and now even Hidden had shared blows from the boss. There were only so many hits that the glassier members of this party could take before they splintered into fragments of data. Alkor grunted with some effort as he hefted his weapon once more, imbuing it with the power of a sword art to whittle away some of this strange new element of

Alkor doesn't know Raidou or Eruda that well, so I won't sign up, but I will say congratulations and I hope you all have a blast!

She was a kind woman, at least from the words she used. Instead of berating him harshly for not staying and fighting, she suggested that he should be respected for his efforts. Alkor lacked the perspective of a Player who never went on to join the fight, but many he'd met had not shared Iris' enthusiasm for what the top echelon of Players took upon themselves. At best, "better you than me" had been the resounding sentiment. He smiled faintly out of regard for that kindness, reminded of the way his grandmother suggested that people ought to be. Do good, and be kind; because there are very

The world that had been sullen was now anything but. Lunacy reigned in Wushen's domain, new and unfamiliar voices piercing through and staggering the Players as they stood in the face of a storm that they hadn't seen coming. Wushen was the eye, and they had been in the calm of it. Everything they'd known coming into this was a lie. He bore the brunt of it. Steel lightning streaked down around them, over them, through them. Wounds that none of them had anticipated taking appeared across all of their bodies in an instant, but the explosive blast of electricity smashed into Alkor's body as t

Her observation wasn't wrong. In fact, since they'd cleared the ninth floor, the only real reason to come here was for quests. There were still Players who did need the progression that the area offered, certainly, but it was far from a tourist destination. Alkor smiled faintly as he offered a congenial wave. "Granted, there was a time when this was the Apex of the Frontline initiative, and all of the Highest level players spent the lion's share of their time here," he responded at last. "I was there for that boss battle, too. It was the last major fight I was involved in." That led

Floor 9 Settlement // Yogan Village >> 14:00 Alkor rarely bothered to come to the Ninth floor, usually. It was a place filled with particularly nasty memories, and in the minds of many, it was where he became a ghost. Some people still looked at him that way. Why are you alive, when so many other Players aren't? The skies of the ninth floor were never day or night, just perpetual ash and flame. It was a ruined world rife with geothermal anomalies. The heat was sweltering in the most comfortable places, dry to the point where one's lips might crack from just standing around

The dismissive flick from the Dragon drilled him. It was like a God's wrath, but the god wasn't even using a fraction of its power. Still, he blow slammed into him, and the First Sword was tossed backward, into the wall. The armor did wonders for preventing damage, he noted. Much of the blow was ablated by the plates, however, the impact was still jarring. His HP, however, told a different tale. The blip of damage that the Dragon had incurred was far less drastic than the resultant animation. His recovery, in fact, made it appear as though it had never occurred at all. I can do this

Alkor looked at his pipe for a long moment, realizing it was empty. He could have reached for another bit of the herb, but he ultimately decided against it. It wasn't like he was getting a buzz off of it, and he'd been drawing long enough to scratch the itch. Instead, he quietly pocketed it and rested his hands in his lap. "No point in dishonesty. It never sticks. People always figure out the truth behind the lies eventually, and it always ends making them more upset than anything else." His Grandmother had taught him all about liars and thieves. They sometimes got what they wanted, but i

NIGHT was taking too many risks. It was valiant for her to willingly stand at the Van, but without the proper equipment and allocated p"oints, there were far too many opportunities for things to go wrong. Too many more hits from the very obviously indifferent dragon and the DPS player would meet with an untimely end. And it was Alkor's job to prevent that from happening. All to eager to get into the boss' face, Alkor had lost sight of the real objective for a moment. Too much time spent doing the wrong thing was time spent throwing the rest of the team under the bus. He had to take actio

This manner of fighting was an entirely different beast. Instead of the tip of the spear, he was supposed to be the shield. What made that even more complex was that all the moves he practiced, all the speed and acrobatic movements no longer served him. His attempts to move with grace and fluidity took him over his own two feet when he practiced in his free time, and having never gone into battle after changing up his skillset, he knew that he had been a fool to take on such a monumental responsibility. And yet, though NIGHT volunteered, she was hardly equipped for the role. There w

Everyone had their own way of mentally preparing for stressful things. For some people, it was relaxation and reflection, meditation, some means of setting themselves at ease. Others were more fond of getting themselves excited, hyped up, ready for the challenge at hand. For Alkor, the anxiety had long since taken root. He'd grappled with several stages of despair already, the critical self-doubt that came with having nearly failed and died in this same situation before. He came to grips with that possibility and took the fear, and he swallowed it whole. It remained sour and bitter, stale, bur

"That is, ultimately, your decision Setsuna," Alkor replied as he watched her take a few mouthfuls of rice. She seemed to be struggling with the concept, reasoning through it like a logic engine. He could commiserate with that just a bit. Sometimes things that seemed completely normal or reasonable to most people felt alien to him. What he did understand, or what he had only recently started to understand, was that in life it was a person's agency that made the experience valid. Being able to make choices was the basic and most fundamental building block for freedom. Until now, he hadn't