Freyd

It was like an itch yearning to be scratched. For months on end, since the last raid, Freyd had been playing the part of tank at every turn, being the responsible leader, motivating allies and keeping bad guys in check at every turn. Being respectable was exhausting. He'd even opened a domestic front as he and Elora took their relationship to the next level and built themselves a place together. "Moving in..." The whispered words still left him a bit gobsmacked, wondering how it had all happened. Despite the whirlwind of activity, he truly couldn't complain. Things were good. Real

Other recent conversations with Kat were enough to corroborate Lium's utterly random warning, upon receipt. Freyd had been training in the valley behind Witherwind Rest, completing his daily exercises, including practicing several new katas and sword arts he'd been working on. Sheltered as it was, the sound of the nearby waterfall tended to drown out any other calls or distractions. He and Elora had found this place together, and built a home here. Now he was struggling to learn what it meant to build the life meant to fit within. A word was all it took to restore his default gear. P

"I'm fairly certain that you and Hirru are very close to the same level, so it should be easy for you to mimic his build. The Jade Hunter is a generous, friendly sort. I'm sure he'd be happy to open up and share his thoughts, and you likely have a little time yet, before the raid, to rebuild whatever you might need. I may be able to help out with any gear components, if you need them, being an appraiser. You'll find my shop in Angel Point, or can always just send me a message with what you requirements. I keep way more stuff around than I need for myself." Glancing skyward again, Fre

"Hrm." He seemed to ponder for a moment, a hand wrapped in cloth darkest than blackest night drawing long slender fingers to his chin. "I know a few excellent supports: Hirru and Shiina jumping to the top of the list. Both lean heavy into healing and leadership arts, wearing heavy armor for resilience. They're as tough as tanks - giving even Shield a run for his money - but they don't generate any hate. Catch is that they literally can't deal any damage. Both are invaluable in a raid, but I'd personally struggle with sitting on the sidelines to that extent. To each their own, I gue

Raising a solitary finger to his lips, a smile perched upon mouth and eyes alike, Freyd acknowledged her arrival with an added nod. "Always glad to help," whispered the Whisper. "Things have been good. Surprisingly good," he added with emphasis. Renown for his persistently stern glare, it was unusual to see Freyd so seemingly relaxed and genuinely... happy? Life was riding high, lately, and he was determined to enjoy the wave while it lasted. "We haven't had many opportunities to get to know each other, and with another raid on the horizon it seemed like a good idea. Besides, I

Beckon the Void Description: Each creature casts its semblance onto the world; a penumbral portal granting back door access to their soul for those who know how to access it. With the strongest resolve, and affinity to the amorphous void, one can draw upon such powers to reach within and turn any darkness found inside out, literally. Enhancing the shadow manipulation effects of the Shades of the Gemini custom skill, wielding this sword art temporarily transforms a target's own shadow into a tangible threat, turning it upon

It was that time again. Flocks of winged monkey-folk blotted out the skies overhead as Freyd made his way silently to the outskirts of the Forest of Memories. Firm Anima's guild hall was located within the woods and occasionally required someone to clear out the pesky neighbours. Most prominent among them was the Witch of the West - not quite the green-skinned hag of Oz, but equally noxious in her manner. Her airborne servants were even worse, tossing about their waste like it was some sort of confetti. The woods literally stank when their numbers reached a certain critical mass, then cul

Even as the last of The Blight's guardians fell, Freyd felt its hunger seeping through the vile infection tainting his Wrath. The mount stumbled, losing its footing and sinking to its knees. Meanwhile, a sea of sickening black resembling used motor oil mixed with Metamucil and black printer's ink rose to lap at them from below. Screeching in protest, his cries hoarse and alien, it was its very similarity to a keening banshee's wail that somehow pierced the Whisper's addled, murderous haze. Samael's Pride made that same sound when it devoured, unleashing the infinite, consuming hunger of ob

Fighting off the boss while listening to his friend's brief, Freyd found himself smiling and chuckling at the prospect. The cursed serpent, with its multitude of extra limbs and eyes, somewhat resembled a disturbing-looking centipede, as if those things weren't creepy enough already at this size. "Yeah. Okay. That seems fair." A flare of familiar and restorative green signaled his companion's latest support effort. There were few healers of Hirru's calibre, even on the frontlines, and he respected the man's dedication to his chosen arts. Momentarily mesmerized by the glow, the serpen

Grunting an acknowledgement, Freyd didn't appear to buy the prank theory either. His machine-like mind was already dissecting the evidence provided by Katoka and pairing it like sets of misshapen puzzle pieces in his head. Did anything fit with what he'd previously gleaned about the Spire? "My greatest concerns about the curse of the Sundered Spire, or other similar digital - let's call them plagues or viruses - that they might somehow one day manage to infect a player. That could spell all of our doom. We already don't have the numbers to field consistent raid parties. The frontline

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Vestigial awareness of self lingered still in the ravenous form of the Faceless Lord of War as he brutally carved a path from one foe to the next, his companions legitimately worried by his cold, calculating and unrelenting progress across the battlefield. Freyd was no longer himself; perhaps not even any longer in control of his own actions as he propelled himself from one monstrosity to the next. The others wisely steered clear and away from his direct line of sight, the edges of his cowl serving as fortunate blinders to keep him focused on the foolish enemies that kept spawning before him

Freyd might have been found clinging to the ceiling after the pan clattered loudly against the cast iron stove. 'The Beast', as he called it, had proven difficult and expensive to obtain let along haul to the edge of the Fields of Crossing to become part of Witherwind Rest. Though he jumped, his boots managed to remain on the ground. The hamster in his brain, meanwhile, was already running flat out to keep ahead of pending cardiac arrest, hoping to piece together what happened before it lost the race. "Do you mean kids - ?", Wut? You could practically feel, let alone hear, the need

Almost? Halfway?! Freyd knew that Mina meant to be motivating them, but he was struggling to feel it in the midst of dodging lethal antlers and mossy hair extensions that were hellbent on gutting his innards. "Maybe we can catch a lucky break and motivate this thing towards a hastier demise?" Angry braying broke his concentration as the Whisper contorted himself unnaturally to dodge the guardian's latest charging strikes. "How does this thing even move this fast? It's like Bambi's mom's ex drank ninja turtle mutagen and went on a bender after finding out it still had feelings for her,

His hand found hers as they worked, though he wasn't sure how it had gotten there. Instinct, perhaps? His had never been inclined towards empathy. Thanks to her, now they could. It only seemed right to repay her in kind. A degree of personal pain had been evident as she spoke, cloaked beneath the same styled veneer she applied over most of her statements. It had long since become familiar. There was always another layer, though she had finally begun to peel them away of her own accord. "Thank you for that." Superficially, his words replied to her veneer, but his eyes conveyed truth. Th

Quick action by his compatriot provided resurgence only for Freyd to catch another glancing blow, this time from the abomination's tail. "Gah! How the heck to Raidou and Eruda stand around doing this all day? Trading blows over a contest of attrition isn't usually my thing." The Whisper narrowly snared a section of said snek and punched hard rapping it against the solid stone walls. Every bit helped lower the beast's failing health, but it was still hovering a third of its total. "We've nearly got it down to yellow," was the best he could muster by way of optimism. They'd win in t

"Lun'Rael?" Freyd often forgot that others didn't indulge... no... gorge themselves on Aincrad's lore to the same extent that he did. "Uh... dark elf queen from floor twenty-three. It's all background info to the floor raid, and before my own active time on the front lines, but..." Freyd's features twisted as he struggled to convey all the raw data in a more concise manner. "Suffice it to say that she seems to have been the source of the Sundered Spire's red crystal curse. Raidou and I led a large contingent of the guild against her, once we'd confirmed it and found her hiding place, and

What little tension remained in him bled away at the touch of her hand taking his. Freyd's innards fluttered in a manner to which he was only slowly allowing himself to consider familiar. It felt good, and he gladly followed. "No, no," he insisted, dismissing her offer to change their intended menu. "I want to try this 'box tie' thing you keep mentioning, even if it prompted our earlier... distraction." A rumbling chuckle resounded in his chest carrying uncharacteristically open sincerity. His honest emotions so rarely shone that it felt odd to witness their blatant expression. Flushin

“I had really hope that Firm Anima had put an end to Lun’Rael’s foul curse,” Freyd muttered, having listened in stillness and silence to the fullness of Katoka’s story. Like a sponge, he’d soaked in every detail, building a memory model in the bag of conniving cats - or maybe mongooses - that passed for the ever-spinning wheel of a Whisper’s mind. But it was the other half at play, not the goofy agent of chaos constantly flirting casually with doom, but his colder, calculating self that was the truly terrifying part of the guild’s head of O&I. Tempered by the influence of his friends,

Still somewhat dazed as his partner helped him back to his feet, she'd whisked herself away to her quarters before his brain's reboot was complete. All he got was something about never bathing and then going to bathe, and 'long promises'. Realizing that he too remained covered in rapidly calcifying goo, he tromped up the same stairs. Turning in the other direction led to his far less sparse quarters. It could hardly have been otherwise. His previous accommodations having been so Spartan as to make Leonidus himself blush out of a false comparative sense of excess. Though he often blamed h

Showing his friend into the living room, without grand ceremony or any semblance of a tour, it was blatantly obvious that Freyd didn't entertain, didn't care too, or - more likely - didn't have a clue that people did such things. That he'd even thought to pour her a hot beverage was progress. Gesturing for this fellow captain to take a seat, the Whisper practically flopped into his own, his eyes flickering repeatedly back to the crystal on the table. "You're looking good, as always, Kat, but something tells me you haven't been getting much sleep lately." Any subtext was left as such

Sitting in the living room at Witherwind Rest, Freyd stared ponderously at an idle bit of crimson crystal in a bell jar sitting at the centre of the heavy oak table. He'd been staring at it for nearly an hour, packaging and unpackaging every bit of data his labyrinthine brain had every squirreled away about an existential threat that had marked his own rise to the ranks of the front lines, and also nearly cost hundreds of fellow players their lives. Katoka would have received his invite by now, coordinates provided with a request for discretion. Though he hated the necessity, Freyd wasn't a

Wheezing out of one nostril, congealing batter assaulting his unruly hair - and possibly actually winning against this otherwise intractable foes - Freyd coughed to clear his lungs as best he could. "Yeah... okay. Not my best plan," he admitted, his voice sounding like it was being compressed through a Victorian sadist's tiniest corset. Blinking and recoiling at the self-inflicted mental image he'd just conjured, he pressed one index finger against the working half of his nose, held his breath and exhaled. The results looked like silly string flailing out the other side and felt even weird

"A memory? Something familiar about this fight?" Freyd wasn't normally one to hold conversations in the midst of battle, unless they were meant to distract his opponents. In this case, the serpent seemed to have achieved the same against his friend without having to say a word. Knowing something of Hirru's past, he chose to reach out and make certain that everything was alright. Elora, he knew, would want him to. Sidestepping several more serpent swipes, he managed to twist and turn its agility against it, but with limited success. It was just too fast, too agile, for him to pin do

Standing on the outskirts of the Forest of Memories, Freyd's stern gaze pierced the distant foliage with a jumbled mixture of emotion. He'd fought too many enemies in those woods, and too many friends. Firm Anima's guild hall lay within its bounds, yet he found himself there less frequently these days. Too many tasks required him to remain active in the field, or carving out a path for the front lines. He'd never truly envisioned himself as the tip of the spear in such things, but fate could be a fickle bitch. He should know, having met her in person more than a few times. The gentle