Freyd

Like a midnight missile, streaking silently through the night, Persi struck the bilious butcher square in the small of the back of his knee. Buckling instantly, Freyd seized the opening created and leapt high to deliver his first blow. Snaring and tossing one of the thing's chains into what looked like a massive meat grinder, he flicked a lever with a passing foot and started the steam-driven conveyor, all the while pummeling his foes to keep it from regaining its balance. It managed to rise to its knees again before a well placed pile driver flattened the Ripper's face back into the bl

Great, stinking piles of putrid meat, staked like cordwood, lined the outer edges of the camp, most bled to grey and wretched with flies. Nearby pits filled with offcast bones and skins too gruesome to explore amplified the level of gore to beyond extreme. A charnel house might have been more welcoming. In the centre of it all, a massive, hulking thing on two legs, layered in chains and wielding cleavers, heaved its bulk as it stomped about the place with perverse, demented glee. Though it bore none of the treacherous red threads he'd encountered across the floor, this place certainly foll

A wisp of dark, fowl-smelling fog wafted over the broken marsh where Katoka waited. When it passed, the shade of a lone figure remained. Leaning casually against the trunk of the dead tree solemnly marking the stark harshness of the landscape, he might have been just another figment or stray calling in the wind. Such was the way with Whispers, summoned or not. He stood in silence, observing her in silence for several minutes before a stray glance noticed him hugging her peripheral vision. Freyd couldn't imagine the state of his friend's heart. He had no frame of reference. Though he

A solemn shadow loomed on the threshold. No one could say how long he'd been there, pensively watching the smith toil towards his good intentions. Freyd admired the young knight, full of zeal and optimism. He'd always been more dour and morose himself, at least until recently. It made his choice both easy and obvious. This was a man he could trust, with altruism and hope to guide his way. Had Raidou seen the same in him once? Doubtful. Freyd had always been more ruthless and bloody minded in resolve, than anything else. Ren's approach was always easier on relationships. Feeling t

That one extra step was all it took for the stench to waft through the forest and assault his nostrils with pure decay and rot one might normally associate with the aftermath of a massacre. Freyd nearly wretched on the spot, clenching his abdomen hard to keep his avatar from upchucking his latest round of buffs on the spot. "What the hell is that?" Whatever it was bypassed Survival's common protections, meaning that the system didn't consider it an environmental effect. Fists clenched and taking on a defensive posture, the Whisper waded forward with as much stealth as could be mustered

Chuckling at Mina's comments about having three damage dealers in the group, Freyd had to admit she wasn't wrong. He was less a tank, and more about just being good at getting under mobs' skins. Precisely why was open to debate, but at a better time. "War fans, huh? Neat. I had Samael's Pride swap from a sword to a staff to bits of cloth wrapped around my hands." He shrugged, by way of explanation. "If you feel it suits you, then all the better. They're also beautiful, which really never hurts." Wulfrin had already done his thing, leaving the lion dazed and vulnerable. Freyd

"Oh, it doesn't so much sell leeches, as it's simply full of them," came the odd man's casual response, a wave of his hand dismissing Abdullah's establishment with disdain. Two others approached, attracted by signage or spectacle, possibly both. The Whisper had a talent for showmanship, or maybe it was just that people could always be counted on to gravitate towards a freebie. "Ah. Excellent. This will make a full group. Welcome all." Party invites appeared before Acanthus, Typhoonflame and Forgotten-Ember, to participate in a quest labeled <<Bloodstained Land>>. As a s

Emerging from the Fire Woods, having only just broken off from the rest of the party that had faced off against Owib'je, Freyd found himself near familiar ground. A farmstead he'd encountered during his initial escape from Glyndebourne lay several hundred yards to the east, barely visible through the tree line. Morningstar, Hirru and Mina were already safely clear of the forest, having regrouped with Ariel, but he preferred to make his own way. It seemed prudent for him to approach the town separately in case whatever crimson menace had afflicted his previous passage somehow still afflicted

Skill(s) Being Dropped: None Mod(s)/Addon(s)/Shift(s) Being Dropped: Untraceable mod SP Incurred Towards Limit: 4 (another 14 was previously refunded within the last month) SP Refunded: 4 Cost: 4,000 col

Chuckling at the query, Freyd seemed hesitant to respond. Not that he wouldn't, but that the answer was more complicated than it should have been. "Truth is that my build is a bit of a mess at the moment. I swapped a few things around to make it possible to tank against the last raid, but that really isn't my strong suit. I'm getting by on raw numbers more than any special tactics or insights, which is likely to come back and bite me in the backside at some point. You're not the only one who's trying to figure out what they want." A smirk marked the irony. "For the moment, my ch

Turns out there's a downside to opening the multi-layered vault you created years ago to bottle up all the hurt and rage of a younger, dumber, proto-self. So Freyd discovered, in the harshest possible sense. He'd even predicted the possibility. 'Cold and calculating' had been a shell; a construct whose existence his mind created to seal off the darkest torments of a terrible and wasted youth. These same feelings had nearly made a boy into a murderer. Fate had interjected then, and maybe also many times since, but once the shell was stripped away it all came flooding back - good and bad alik

"Sad?! I was just worried about all the paperwork. Those insurance forms only exist to murder your eyes, which then requires the filling out of more insurance forms! It's viciously insidious - almost cunning, actually, now that I think about it." Feigning a pensive look, even the oft dour Whisper couldn't keep the grin off his face for long. "I'm just glad Nymoria was graceful enough to let us tag along. Apologies if we were a little insistent, but I trust that you now see why. Besides, trying this solo without the right stats... let's just say that reading the signs of that afterma

"Works for me," Freyd replied, following Night as she turned back towards Kalanaes, their prey's final vestiges melting silently into the uneven cavern floor. He'd followed the banter between Mac and Kat. 'That name might stick,' he mused internally. 'There's a dynamic duo in there somewhere.' Tugging his cowl tighter around his head, Freyd gazed through, shadows, as his version of this skill was wont to do, though he already knew what possible responses to expect. This particular boss always spawned in the Colosseum near Scalabis. Finding it was less a matter of hunting than pure chan

Freyd froze, his lanky body contorting at the last minute to avoid barreling into an unfamiliar red-headed woman who'd suddenly materialized in front of him. "GAH! What the...?!" Blinking twice to refocus on the right reality, his brow furrowed in frustration, but only at having let Abdullah's foppish shenanigans so distract him from his surroundings. If this had truly been an ambush by the man's thugs, it could have ended badly. "Oh. Uh... sorry? My fault. I wasn't watching." Canadian instincts were tough to break. The apology reflex was exceptionally strong, even after being a

Rank 5 Appraiser (Base: BD 10, CD 8+ for unique, 10 identifications per day) +1 to CD from Hermes’ Scale +2 EXP: Hard Working (also +1 IDs per day) +2 EXP: Lucrative (Firm Anima) (also +2 IDs per day) +1 EXP: Custom Ambition Tool (bought from own shop 2020-07-16) Crafting Respite | Dragon's Breath | 174612 Source: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/19871-f13-appraiser-freyd-edges-open/?do=findComment&comment=683364 Identifications: 5x T4 Perfect Items (@3040 col) = 15,200 col 2x T4 Perfect consumables (@1440 col) = 2,880 col 6x T4 Rare Items (@2080 col) = 12,48

By the time the others had done their respective things, there wasn't much left of Ugzeke. He almost pitied the steaming troll. Deep gashes exposed all over its reddened skin, glared orange as the exposed mesh glared in harsh contrast to the softer hues of their underground surroundings. Freyd thought it looked like the poor thing's essence was bleeding out. Maybe it was. Strange to feel pity for a creature that's done what I've seen it do. NIGHT's tone was unreadable to him as she leaned against her sword, waiting for the meaty mobile redwood she'd just cut to come crashing down. Wa

Freyd sighed, disturbed as much by what Sam had said as by how she had said it. He knew this place too well, and the tricks that it could play on one's mind. "Lium." Hesitation burned, but the man deserved to hear his thoughts. "This is the Forest of Memories. Many think of it fondly as a way to reminisce, but it will devour your past as soon as force you to revisit the worst of it. Do not take it likely. Worse yet, Sam may be clinging to a memory she wants, but never lived. There are few things more dangerous." Freyd didn't want to press his concerns further, but there would be no

A clack and clatter signaled the compartment's opening and vanishing of its contents, barely a moment after Katoka had hit the send button. Apparently, her friend's appetites were especially ravenous of late, possibly in anticipation of the pending raid. Ever since the weird, moose-like thing they'd encountered in the Fire Forest had fallen, it had been nothing but full-bore frenzy whichever way you turned. Shopkeepers up and down the street had been remarking on the sudden uptick in traffic and sales, mostly in a positive light. When she re-opened the box, Katoka found a simple messag

The keening wail of a banshee was nearly as unmistakable that the similar sound of a certain weapon loosing its bonds. Samael's Pride, a hole in the universe kept shut by the slimmest of margins, and a prayer, slipped its tether as the Whisper whipped back into existence right behind the murderer. A swift kick to the back of the knees crumpled his target, felling him beneath the weight of plate and spinning him around to face a furious looking Freyd, who promptly drove his fist so hard through the mob's chest that the ground beneath him crumpled and cratered leaving an imprint of his knuckle

"We've been over this a dozen times, Abdullah. You owe me favours, not the other way around. I've been keeping this bloody menace in check for months now, to your benefit. Don't try to con me into thinking I somehow need your permission, or to pay some ridiculous tithe." Arms crossed as they sat opposite each other in a lavish parlour off the main square of Fortaleza, the place was truly hard to miss. A wretched desert town surrounding with desert in every direction and constant blistering heat, the village's only remarkable feature was its reliable well. Abdullah's abode rested directly

The girl had guts. There was no denying it. Freyd was already impressed by how well she'd adapted to Aincrad's environment and made it work to her advantage, but walking up to a colossal ice golem in the middle of a hurricane-force blizzard? That took something extra. Sadly, there was little time to sing her praises as the giant's body toppled down towards their blonde-haired companion. Feeling his lips move, but no sound emanating as he rushed to snare Morningside, Freyd searched desperately for a shadow to slip through for a last minute rescue, but found none. Shadows didn't real

It still felt awkward, focusing on C&C while champions rained down ruin on a target whose entire focus was meant to be kept on you. He'd volunteered for the role during the last raid because they were desperate. NIGHT had done the same, for which he was grateful. The raid might have failed before it began without them both taking on the challenge. Watching Macradon and Katoka blaze around the battlefield, Freyd found himself smiling, even if the role of tank still felt awkward as a mantle. NIGHT came in blazing from the flank, her own acrobatic flair still and always inspiring to

"There. Border stones. The sentinels should keep stray beasts at bay beyond this point, though we shouldn't lower our guard." Sewallus concurred, appreciating how Freyd recognized his people's customs and symbols. Guiding back to the main road through this area, it was really more of a well-worn trail. The elves used few wagons and other vehicles, and trouble with the Treants made mass travel or carting of goods too tempting a target. "Foyle. Jeeves. You're both valued additions to the O&I team. This will likely be the first of many training missions we'll need to undert

Jeeves' line of questioning perked the Whisper's interest, especially given Sawallus' responses. A shared glance between them, from the corners of both their eyes, confirmed that they'd both noted the potential value of the information provided. It would have gone over Foyle's head anyway, but was definitely worth discretion and filing away for later use. Freyd had many, many different sources of data at his disposal. Adding more was never a bad thing, especially if they came with a greater degree of certainty and accuracy than more common fare. Players, for example, could be the most and

"That should cover the essentials, but we'll make time to go over the rest." A supportive pat on Foyle's shoulder earned him a grunting gratitude. The older man was appreciative, just out of his depths in this world. But, it had taken the persistent effort of Freyd's closest friends to help him find a person inside himself. There was a certain karmic catharsis to him helping someone else learn to navigate the system's more technical parts. Maybe that was why he'd conjured up the idea of the Sharkbait Training Program in the first place? "We shouldn't linger." Sewallus. The dour-fac