Freyd

A wound in his soul that felt self-inflicted gnawed as it festered from its moment of inception. Why was his pride and ego so devastated, where he'd so recently been devoid of both? That change was wrought by her efforts. Was this how he repaid that caring? Was he also sordidly quick to discard the very flower that had taken ages to nurture into beautiful bloom? Would he destroy it by childishly callous self-doubt? Everything he'd become was thanks to her. Freyd knew, deep down, what terrifying doom had lain in his opposing path. It lingered in his dreams, burning a hole through the pag

"Sounds like they gave you considerable grief. If you want my help searching for them, you'll have it." Jomei struck him as a decent, caring person, who'd struggled through something nasty and been denied any sense of closure. That description might apply to most of the players still surviving in Aincrad to this day, but the measure of each was in how they dealt with it. Here was one willing to take steps to protect the rest, and that counted for something in the Whisper's damnably dark, inherited book. "Once Charko is protected, of course. We still have business here." A quick gest

Eyes widening slightly at the heaving wheeze of her breast, her hand clutching thereto like she was having some sort of episode, Freyd was about to pounce and deliver the Heimlich on instinct when words finally eeked through her lips. Well… more sounds than words. Distraught, troubled, caught-off-guard-in-a-not-so-good sort of way sounds that made his heart fall low enough to bypass the pit of his stomach and taste the insides of his toes. “Oh…” Not that he’d planned any of this, but it wasn’t quite the reaction one might aspire to. Like, not even remotely close, even in the are

“Ah. More of an off-the books sort of crew. Yeah. I know the type.” Possibly the understatement of their entire journey so far, but those details were not especially germaine. “The Four Pointed Star? Can’t say it rings a bell, though, I may be able to look into it further if you’re interested. I’m no broker or Jade Hunter, but have been known to track down a wayward thing or two in my time. Did they operate on a particular floor or area? Even a single name might be enough to track them.” Wondering whether Jomei truly wanted the group found or just forgotten, he let the subject d

"Always up for more trouble," Freyd replied, watching his counterpart drift into the distance while he transferred equivalent funds his way from his own accounts. Even a modest, perfectly reasonable debt wasn't something he could stand for long. It wasn't in his nature to allow himself to remain in that state, like some sort of IOU-based sword of Democles was hovering over his head. It was irrational, yet also hyperrational, in the upside down world of spies and spycraft where favours were worth more than platinum. Besides which, he already had other responsibilities of a kind that were fa

"Agreed," came Freyd's reply, his gaze still locked on their informal nemesis. Freyd swore he saw wisps of steam trailing from Abdullah's over-gelled pink anime-punk reject hairdo as he stormed out of his private box. "As entertaining and informative as this has been, we've likely pushed our luck to its limits. Best to take our winning and go. He'd probably calling in every merc and assassin on this floor, right now, placing bounties on the heads of whoever he thinks we are. The precision of his surmise will tell us more, but you might want to sleep in a safe place tonight, nowhere near h

Raging at the loss of one of its limbs, the thing called Scarface twisted and flailed in frenzy, ready to lunge forward and lay waste to the entire area. Whatever reason might once have held sway over the thing's distorted mind had gone, replaced by an overwhelming impulse for death and destruction. Preparing to flense and devour whatever stood in its path, ithe monster coiled as it to lunge, then froze. Looking down at its chest with a half-dozen misshapen eyes, each its own unique brand of ugly, it spotted the tiniest of black spots where its heart previously beat. Like ink blotting from

Winded disorientation reigned, Freyd struggling to figure out which way down had ended up facing. He knew that Troll's Blood inflicted a toll upon its user, but had normally managed to deflect the drawbacks with cunning gear selection. Granted, he'd not done so for this outing, and this might be the consequence, but something felt off. He was still moving, not paralyzed, just in a wibbly-wobbly sort of way that would prove utterly useless in combat. Combat? COMBAT! Sitting up from where he lay, Freyd found Samael's Pride still gripped in his right hand, its seal humming with the sati

A slight miscalculation, or could there be a ghost in this machine after all? Despite every action in the plan played out to perfection, the system played against itself to wield control through its predictability, something had gone inexplicably wrong. The Forgotten Time King, nearly plodding in its pedantic approach to combat, had broken its own cardinal rules. Ignoring the substantial accumulation imposed upon its processes, and the fact that countless iterations of this combat had reported zero deviation from its observance, FTK had just turned and lunged towards the very target it

Sensing Ren's frustration at Jeeves' lack of participation, Freyd waved him off. "He's actually doing precisely what I need him to do. This mob's spawn time is too short to effectively complete analysis of the markings present in this room, and screenshots seem to get deleted the instant you leave the area. We're O&I, remember? That makes us special forces, whether you prefer to think of that as special teams, the archaeology branch or spycraft division." Clashing blades with the boss for a moment, because he could resume their conversation, Freyd managed to clip it a second t

"It is." Freyd left out the part where the rest of the guild had come blitzing through the mob's ruins to rescue their leader, who was arguably actually in a bit of perils. The details didn't matter as much as instilling a sense of faith and admiration in his three companions about the organization to which they now all belonged. That also meant faith and admiration for its leadership - and hope enough to carry them forward. "FTK is a hardass, but his stats have lost some of their luster since we've cleared the last few floors. I've defeated him myself in single combat, but that's not

Gathering his allies in a seedy tavern on Tomoika's west side, Freyd had secured them a private booth from the owner after promising her that Ren would bring his fledgling crafters union's business here regularly. Meals without spit, and who knew what else, might be a nice reprieve, not that he didn't already dose his dishes with a dap of antidote when sampling new establishments. As much as the white haired smith had done good with his altruism, it had also earned him ire and enemies. Both could be dangerous in a rough-and-tumble mining town like Tomoika. Half the place loved the kid, whi

Nodding to acknowledge Wulfrin's request, Freyd then turned his black, faceless gaze up to the stands. Raising his ebon blade high and pointing it towards the arena's distraught patron, silence fell over the crowd. No one threatened Abdullah. No one. A quarter turn was all it took, twisting the tang of the impossible thin blade like a key. Where once contained by the slimmest of holy seals, the hush pervading their battlefield was instantly shattered by the keening wail of oblivion's hunger. The void's maw sat open, unfettered and free to unleash its infinite hunger. Sand whipped all ar

'Should we consider getting married, someday' was what he had meant to say. Foiled by unfamiliar swellings of the heart overriding and addling his senses, the jumbled mess of words flooding from his lips sounded a lot more like: "Weshouldgetmarried..." Freyd eyes widened in equal measure to the failing of his voice, the machine side of his brain desperately mashing his mouth's emergency shut-off button so hard it threatened to permanently eject his lips. Realizing what he'd actually said and its potential implications, his hands clenched the edges of the armor plates covering his thigh

ph *** Freyd's Action: Enemy's Action: Loot Gold Shoulder: ID #235480 | LD: 19+9+1=29 | CD: 3 +4 materials (+4 CD/LD odd) 4,620 col (HP[700]*6 - incl. +3 Prosperity, +10% [Col Deposit & Treasury]) T4 Perfect Consumable 235480a T4 Perfect Consumable 235480b T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 235480c T4 Perfect Armor/Shield 235480d

Thread Closing: Col from looted mobs totaled 78172 / 4 = 19543 each. Macradon receives: 8,960 EXP (Word Count [14081/10*10*0.5] + Field Bosses [640+640+640]) 21,087 col (2 page [200] + Loot [19543] + 15% P5 Reward [1344]) 1 Mon (Playtest reward) 1x “Troll’s Blood" (T4/Consumable/Single Use) | 235486a 1x “Rhino’s Horn" (T4/Consumable - Instant (after attack)/Re-usable) | 235487a 1x “Iron Thread" (T4/Consumable/Re-usable) | 235488a NIGHT receives: 12,480 EXP (Word Count [14081/10*15*0.5] + Field Bosses [640+640+640]) 21,615 col (2 page [200] + Loot [19543] +

Lunging forward in the wake of Sam's crab-apocalypse, Freyd made a mental note to ask her about the recently introduced bow skills were working out. Though, she'd just provided a rather impressive demonstration. Grabbing one of the two remaining way crabs by a pincer, Freyd charged and unleashed his sword art through the crusty crustacean, flinging it full force through Montjoy. Vanishing into the inky umbra upon the sands, it joined its counterpart twenty feet away, emerging from below and releasing the full force of the attack upon them both. Sparks flew upward like a miniaturized holida

"It's concerning to hear that the Dragon Knights have remained active so long after Tesseleth's defeat. You'd think they might have had their content linked to the floor boss' fate? Isn't it interesting how certain things linger when a chapter closes on an event, but others don't? I've often wondered why, not that Cardinal is likely to provide answers. Keeping adventure hooks open for future use? Maybe it was just forgotten as the devs moved on to higher priorities closer to the front lines?" Dismissing his own speculation with a shrug, neither of them were likely to be privy to the mad

"Finish it?!" Freyd cackled a little too unnervingly, but mostly meant to mock his own sheer bad fortune. "I'm still looking forward to starting it." Persi was no help, lapping at the strands still holding him tight, playfully nipping at frayed bits of webbing in a way a cat might bat at bare bits of string on a ball. Not helpful. At all. Grumbling to himself, Freyd rolled himself unceremoniously to the edge of the corridor, where the high maze walls met cold, broken flagstone floor. It was that latter part that inspired a solution. The pincers on the weavers claws were sharp eno

Catching the meaning of Bahr's gaze, Freyd made a break for the abomination's flank, black blade melting and reforming into a slimmer, nastier darkness as he moved. As the others struck it more directly, a piercing shard of metal flicked from his vambrace to snare their prey with precious tender hooks - or hooks in tenders - and yank, hard. Waiting to strike as the boss fell backwards, off balance, the plan went wrong the moment his snare's chain broke free, ripping off a useless hunk of digital mesh to no effect. Freyd suddenly found himself askew instead, managing little more than a wild,

Something about their strange predicament seemed to encourage Freyd's pretentious pet, her tiny head bobbing up from behind the griffon as she collided with its good side and sent it spiraling head over absent wing. Despite her diminutive size and strong silent type approach to everything, Persi's sheer moxy could not be overstated. It had once been claimed that she ate field bosses for breakfast, yet even that felt like an understatement. Moving in step with Persi's strike, Freyd's blade was waiting with an upward cut that bit deep, cascading the boss' health into endgame territory. Al

As the others went to town on the frenzied arachnid, Freyd was holding his own contest with the webbing he'd stumbled over at the outset. First it clung to his leg. Then the adhesive filament bound itself to his fingertips as he struggled to remove it. Within seconds, he'd managed to bind himself up in it from head to toe, wondering how he'd quite managed it. "Oh, for... I couldn't have done this if I actually tried," he cursed, only somehow making it worse. "Uh. Be right there, gang. You're doing great! Keep at...*ptoo-ey*... at it. I'll be right there. Any second now..."

"Don't sweat it, Ciela. Wulfrin's got the right idea, and Mina's the really ass-kicker in our party. I just quote elven poetry at the mobs until they get really mad and focus all their hate on my poor pronunciation." A smirk threatening to grow into a proper Cheshire grin graced the left side of his lips as Mina moved in, ready to try in her new toy. Fan and flare all in one, it suited her personality well, though he still struggled at grasping the physics of how the thing function as they did. "The Underdark's not so bad, once you get used to it," he replied, chuckling slightly at

The final piece of an overly complicated puzzle, identified and collected at last. A chilled phial of purest, most solid cold, so much that it sapped the breath from your lungs from a dozen steps away. More Wulfrin's style than his own, yet necessary. Hopefully also worthwhile. Most of these would soon see a need for replenishment, the stores about to be pilfered, devoured, or plundered, depending on your perspective. It seemed like a waste, but that line of thinking lead to warehousing of a style that might make a certain movie adventurer-archaeologist cringe. The stuff was meant to be

For a moment, he wasn't sure whether she meant the raid or not. The way her fingers intertwined with his, cast in the perfection of light and time cocooning the landscape around their innocent intimacy, placed Freyd completely out of his depths. Feelings jumbled between his heart, doing cartwheels in contrast to the delicate warmth of her touch and the sheen of moist lips after a meal. The poor man had never known such sensations, save in their most primitive forms, and never in a manner that he imagined could share with someone else. Here was someone he cared for deeply, but would feel fo