Alkor

He folded his hands and let the pipe rest across his two pointers, stretched out to serve as a makeshift surface for that purpose alone. With his gaze locked on the rhythmic swirls of gray, he listened as Koga spoke. And he was reminded of the words he'd said, which floated back and forth on the stormy sea of life. There were times when they felt real, and there were times when they waxed so far away they seemed like fantasy. In his most lucid moments, he either affirmed them entirely or dismissed them outright. His duality almost felt comical when he was called to account for it. Despite

"Ain't wrong about that bit, I'd wager," Alkor took another sip of his water before he finally sat back, eyes closed and legs crossed. He elevated his heels on the table and reclined a bit, leant against the wall behind him. "Tireless enemy, singular purpose, infinite creativity, and a well-spring of resources at its disposal. When you put it that way, it's not at all disheartening," with a wry smile, Alkor let the bemused sarcasm die as he struck a match and lit up his pipe. It was less worn than the one he'd broken the last time they met, but with digital pipes, who could really tell if the

He eyed the contents of his clay cup idly, slowly rotating his wrist to cause a ripple across the surface. When it reached the edge, another followed in its wake. The rhythm mesmerized him momentarily, since he had no proper answer for Koga's first question. What qualified as "trouble," anyway? The act of joining a rebellion, however fleeting, didn't seem to fit the bill of keeping his nose clean. What did give him pause was the way Koga addressed him. Possibly the only person who ever called him 'Alky' was Corvo. They hadn't talked in some time, and their relationship had been estranged

Level 31//Paragon 21 740/740 HP 100/100 EN 23 Base Damage 30 Mitigation 5 Accuracy 3 Evasion 32 Blight Damage (20 Mitigation loss for duration) 48 Bleed Damage Paralyze 50 Battle Healing Survival (10% increase to healing effects applied) A drink. The most recent event was an insane riot that spanned an entire floor of Aincrad and consumed the Players and NPCs in a spiral of lawlessness. People died- whether or not they were real, there were nameless faces imprinted in his thoughts, like some veteran soldier after his war had ended. All he

He was at a loss. For all the possible places for them to end up after the last room, the one they found was quaint by comparison. Beautiful and quiet in contrast to the disharmony outside its walls, the problem it posed was that it now served as a makeshift prison. The only obvious exit was the way they had come. More obvious than that however, was the certainty that it was no option at all. There were keyholes, made apparent not only by a cursory sweep of the room, but the observation of another Player who Alkor did not know. They needed to find keys, then. Instead of wasting

Alkor glanced toward the newly found exit, biting his lip. There it was- a fiendishly designed path, but perhaps not the sort that he was looking for. What he had not expected was for the Players to create their own makeshift pathway to ascension, on the literal backs of NPCs. With a sigh at the foreboding nature of Celeste's brusque response to Cardinal's challenge, he quietly clambered up to the rope ladder and climbed, quickly so as to be certain that he would trod as little as possible on the others. There was a certain necessity in it, but he was loathe to treat anyone as pawns, digital o

He watched passively as the others rushed at the obstacle before them intent on playing along with the balancing act, but the devious attempt at stalling the group only made Alkor more suspicious. Of course, they could eventually solve the puzzle laid out for them, but at the sacrifice of efficient time. Their most precious resource, and most scarce, he needed to find an answer to this question that afforded them as much as possible. And so, the direct approach seemed the least likely to yield the desired result. Balanced, there would be a path forward... but there had to be something the

"N-no, please, I don't know anything, I swear it!" the guard bleated as Alkor held him at blade point. The swordsman wore a dispassionate mask toward the man, hopeful that it would spur a more favorable response, but as the pleading continued he realized that the man truly had nothing worthwhile to give. He withdrew his weapon to the sounds of relief and overwhelming joy, but Alkor sheathed his weapon without looking back to the guard or acknowledging him at all. "I... wait... wait!" Alkor closed his eyes as he started down the path that the other Players had taken. Behind him, the downtr

What do you expect me to do about it? That was what he wanted to ask, but the situation made discourse the least optimal expenditure of their time. If they had more room for planning and a greater margin for error--- no. They didn't have that. They wouldn't have had that even in the most ideal version of this timeline, because the quest was randomly generated, their advance notice nonexistent. Alkor had no time to get hung up on the minutia surrounding the responsibility he neither asked for nor wanted. Instead, he had to grunt disapprovingly and continue to move completely fueled by adr

The impact jarred him. Before they ever had time to cool their heads and have a constructive conversation, the destruction robbed them of all clarity. Some fell away while others embraced the momentum. All of them found themselves with footing, somehow. He could no longer see the strange, loud woman or the blonde who entreated with him to stop the horrific scene from unfolding. Aincrad never seemed to consider the hopes and dreams of its captives. This quest seemed no different, no less apathetic. What it lacked in compassion, the game made up for in allowing the Players mutability.

Alkor felt the jarring sensation through his head as yowling metal protested the red woman's efforts. He watched in disbelief as she handed him the door handle and told him to "jam it in" to the breach. "Yeah," he replied swiftly as he knocked aside the box he'd previously set in place to offset the loss of power, right, then." With a quick and precise motion, he wedged the metal into the rupture and stepped back. "All yours," he prompted to @Celeste just before he heard an explosion of voices from behind and a loud impact. Alkor whirred round to see the blonde woman barreling into the d

With the situation as fraught as it seemed to be, one would think the group would come together and work as a team. That did not appear to be the case as Alkor sauntered along the deck and saw a group anything but unified. Chaos reigned over the people making a mad dash in every direction around him. Their voices and movements drowned in the explosive reports of blasts from far below. Smog choked the Knight as he ascended toward the helm, only to see the confrontation between several Players. He barely understood the words, but their actions spoke loud enough to reach him through the haze of i

The ship lurched, and jerked round as the Players aboard fought to stabilize her. Where he made sure that the mouthy woman made her way safely aboard ahead of him, Alkor was still at the mercy of the throttling, wildly wailing chain. Thrashing to and fro, he found it difficult to gain purchase at all. The dull static sensation in his elbow warned the First Knight that he was perilously close to losing his grip. Thankfully someone managed to right their trajectory just enough, and he got his other hand on. "Brutal," he muttered as the ship sputtered, struggling it seemed to stay aloft at a

The rush to the Skyport was a blur of thoughts. Like a shell-shocked soldier, the Knight waded through the confusion only vaguely aware of what was happening around him. It was the loud sound from behind him that jarred his senses and stole him back to augmented reality. Alkor spun rapidly as someone yelled out to him. His eyes darted to confirm the threat, and when he found it his blade spun in the palm of his hand. In a reversed grip as he took two swift steps toward his vulnerable foe, the sword drove home. With the blade sunken into the guard's armor half of its length, Alkor waited for tw

He flicked through his inventory idly and summoned a towel. Dabbing the fabric against his body, the sweat began to dissipate and he felt the chill replaced with familiar heat. The false sensation of a digitized body burning off calories. It was a brief respite, but welcome. When her next message came, the blonde knight placed the towel over his head and folded his hands in his lap, seated on the ground. The rumors that began to circulate recently had created a massive influx in the number of info brokers. Where once they were relied on only for details about the floor boss, now they had a tro

One more body to the pile seemed insignificant, but the weight of a life was never any less heavy. His duty to protect the innocent was not a license to take life. Even though the guards were data in the game, their purpose designated and outlined to the digit, they were not altogether mindless slaves to the system. They were doing a duty, no different from his own. This twisted world had its way of ripping pieces of the fabric that made up every individual away, leaving frayed remnants of the person they were behind. How many ribs were left in the fabric that comprised Alkor before the person

A sea of madness swallowed the city. Where once the turmoil existed only in the form of cracks across chiseled marble, now Ladonia was fractured obsidian, blackened by the flames of rebellion. Alkor navigated perilous streets, dodging and ducking the charred detritus of former Imperial holdings. The citizenry cast off their chains, and the things that collared them were kindling for the blaze that set the backdrop to the floor boss battle. The dull roar of a crowd became mind-numbing screams, chanting, and cheering as they trampled guards. En masse, their unpolished and unrefined numbers

Alkor Level 31//Paragon 21 740/740 HP 100/100 EN 23 Base Damage 30 Mitigation 5 Accuracy 3 Evasion 32 Blight Damage (20 Mitigation loss for duration) 48 Bleed Damage Paralyze 50 Battle Healing Survival (10% increase to healing effects applied) The seconds that ticked away until the battle were even more prominent in his mind. In the last Floor Boss battle he faced, Alkor was certain that nothing would go wrong. Experience and time had taught him to value life more than that. The anxiety that came with gambling one's life for the chance a

Beads of perspiration clung to his body as he spun. The blade tore across the straw dummy, drawing a line of crimson that indicated his blade struck true. His other foot stepped forward and he brought the blade upward in an arc, and droplets rained to the floor beneath him. How many times had he executed the Sword Arts, now? How many times had he seen his own actions and deemed them too slow, too sloppy? Alkor screamed his frustrations to the universe, and the loneliness of the training yard answered him. The swordsman had shed several layers to compensate for the heat of the ninth floor,

Approved

Approved

Approved

Approved

Approved

Alkor returned the bow respectfully. "You're kind to say so." It was true that the world of Aincrad was lonely without others around, but for someone with a shop that intermittently relieved itself. Such was the situation here, more than likely. It was a welcome reprieve from one's own company. He watched the brief exchange between NIGHT and Iris in silence until their trade ended, and the frontliner turned her attention toward him. He raised a hand thoughtfully to his chin and tapped it a few times. "I was going to look into one of the Broker's rumors or grab a quest, honestly," he reve