Freyd

A coy smile crossed his angular features as he watched her decimate the foodstuff with unmitigated gusto, bleeding into a full and proper chuckle as cider chased cheese down her gullet. Was it going out of style, or the last sampling of some lost vestigial vintage? "Are you worried someone's going to steal your meal? I can't tell if you just really like the flavour or are trying to beat the clock in some sort of festive feeding frenzy. Or, is it some sort of Irish tradition I just don't know about" If so, the chop sticks make it weird. Catching him off guard again as she suddenly

A light chuckle greeted Kyoto's first remark, Freyd grinning at the truth of it. "No. I've been to most of the rodeos this world has to offer, at least those we've discovered to date. Though there are always a few left on my list to check out, or else newly uncovered that I've yet to complete. This one just happens to be original, from what I've seen and heard, and isn't often repeated since it offers no extra rewards. Still, worth doing at least once, right?" Leading them away from the sleepy town, traffic on the muddy road was minimal and soon drifted southward towards more rur

A lone figure in a tailored grey suit wandered into view, patrolling the small town's residents like its appointed steward - which he was. Cane in hand and duster swishing at his back, he looked overdressed for such a rural little town. Perhaps he had hopes of making it grander than it was? "Mayor Cyrus," Freyd greeted him, offering a small formal bow befitting his station. "My companion, Kyoto, and I are volunteering to take care of that pesky recurring snake problem of yours. I trust that you have no objections?" Cyrus smiled, like any politician might at having his title recogn

Trying to keep the distance to ground from the forefront of his mind wasn't helped by Katoka's reminder. He'd probably bounce, and likely wouldn't feel it overmuch due to the system's pain suppression routines, but the embarrassment of belly flopping from eight stories, then probably getting stepped on, was more than he wanted to consider. A sudden keening wail from his fist, fortunately shattered his daydream and promised to do the same to this titan. As the seals around Samael's Pride cut loose, Freyd drove his fist as hard as he could through the gigantic golem's limb, drilling through l

Rig hadn't been on his radar in ages. Most of this floor hadn't, if he was honest with himself. Nimbus itself was an interesting place, but there wasn't much around that regularly drew his attention here. It was... strangely tame? Maybe that was what made him think it might be a suitable training ground for Kyoto. The two hadn't seen each other in some time, but once help was given, the Whisper liked to keep loose tabs on the people he'd previously assisted, ensuring that they were doing well. Time was an investment, after all, and he hoped to see dividends pay off in the form of new play

Plodding by comparison to his more nimble ally, Freyd strode forward with relentless purpose. Reaching to his side, the black samurai slunk a katana black as an eclipse from its sheath, the blade absorbing all light and casting no shadows upon the ground. Sando was a sitting duck... a sitting reptilian duck... weird... as Samael's Pride snapped its widthless blade across his chest, tearing a vicious streak of orange open on his avatar's mesh. The crowd roared. Some boo-ed, but they had likely cast bets in favour of the wrong side. This moment would teach them better for the future. I

"The man's an arrogant, abusive fop, but I'm not prepared to assign him greater moustache-twirling status than he hasn't properly earned." Freyd had simply opted to hide within the confines of his armor, penning the pseudonym of 'Kuro bara no kishi' - black knight of the rose - based on an emblem he'd manifested on his left pauldron. It seemed poetic enough to entice and satisfy the unsophisticated crowd, aided by an underlayment of accuracy. His rose would understand. No one else need be any the wiser. "Abdullah is manipulative thorn, but tweaking his thorns too readily may not be in

Watching Sam decimate the lingering remnants of the colossal crab's health bar, he grunted with satisfaction before turning his blade to sifting the sands. "This beastie has a tendency to leave bonus minions buried along the beach, as I recall. We should fan out and see if we can't find any. Their drops are well worth the added bit of effort and often better than their boss." Well, potentially. Like any other unidentified object, the virtues of any demonic remained at the mercy of chance and an appraiser's skill. Still winded from his efforts against the crustacious creature, Freyd f

"History buff? Museum? Shouldn't you be carrying a whip and wearing a fedora for that sort of thing?" It was an old reference, but if her claims were legit Bee would know what he was talking about. Persi pounced after a random bit of tumbleweed carried by the wind as they crossed the desiccated town's paltry gates, making their way towards an all-too-familiar destination. Nestled in the crook between two merging sandstone spits, Freyd had come to know the silty basin all too well. Shaped remarkably like an arena surrounded by rough, near-vertical cliff walls, the bowl housed on of the flo

"Katoka was kind enough to give me a few pointers." An explanation regarding his facility with the weapons. "Though I will definitely need some practice to develop an appropriate new style. You know me. The wheels are always turning." Tapping his left temple for effect, Freyd offered his protogé a mild smirk. Plans within plans within plans. Freyd was always layers deep in the chess game of their existence - far deeper than most would ever possibly understand. "She's another one who's come a long way. There are so many. It's...gratifying. And, don't feel bad for others making the

Barely a hint of a grin on his face before he drove himself through the ramshackle wall, reminded of Circe's debt, his focus was immediately elsewhere. Flying knives and whirling blades around him either meant the others had chosen to aid him, or all had exceptionally bad aim. Dissipating mobs soon confirmed it to be the former, to his relief. The intel he was after was too sensitive to risk waiting for reinforcements, and he'd taken a chance diving in with hostiles before him and unknowns to the rear. All three were passing acquaintances, at best, but only mildly better than total strange

Preferring a guaranteed hit over power, it was all the situation required. The rest of the party had already flensed the thing to bitses, every part handing on by a virtual thread. Har har. Swapping weapons as he moved, Freyd whirled and went for an unexpected weak spot: the pinky claw on its left leg - not back one, not the front leg it could also use as an arm, because dragons were weird. Centaurs never had this problem, being considerate enough to bring an extra, proper set of arms and keep their legs as legs. Where was he? Oh. Right. Dragon. He must have hit the giga-gecko, be

Drawing the blade fully, aware of his companion's professional interest, it only seemed courteous to indulge him. Resting its black blade against a matte charcoal vambrace, the blade hovered fractions of an inch above the actual material, as if the two refused each other contact and coexistence. Yet another way in which Freyd bore our the paradox theme of his existence. "I can't claim to have any skill at the forge or to put in the effort in the same way as those who toil at other crafts. Appraisers' arts are more akin to magic, in a way, trading in secrets and properties bound by o

"Welcome to the world of grey shades, my friend. Truth is the Thing Behind All Lies - a phrase enshrined in the branding of a weapon I no longer wield." Slipping his new blade from its sheath revealed a katana of black steel sharp and as yet unused. Virgin, so to speak, and appropriately so. "Veritas. Quite the contrast." He neglected to point out the paradox called out by his armor's moniker, trusting to Wulfrin's curiosity. Flinching slightly at the compliment paid, Freyd was unaccustomed to receiving praise, and generally thought himself to be undeserving. Tough choices require

Helping Elora spread out the blanket and setting a few small stones at the corners to keep it weighed down, he was acting more on habit than necessity. Their clearing was relatively sheltered by the surrounding ruins and stone outcroppings, along with the lichen and intertwined branches that kept people from finding this place too easily. Was it even findable without having picked up the quest, he wondered. Aincrad had many layered secrets that required the right code or circumstance to crack, sometimes including pure, unadulterated, dumb luck - of either variety. "Fishing? Meh. The

A pun? That was supposed to be some sort of proof? Freyd didn't much appreciate the casual dismissal to such a potential threat, but he also wasn't going to turn away a possible ally. It was his nature to assess and mitigate threats. He didn't know Pinball, or whether he ought to be treated as one, but Mari had changed his perspective on such marked players long ago. Ever the pragmatist, he'd accept anyone in a group, provided they worked towards the common goal. As the others piled on against the overgrown shadow gecko, he hung back, waiting for an opening to grab aggro. Pin's sur

Slipping past the giant beast after his first, devastating strike, Freyd dug in his hand and steered his slide into the nearest part of the thing's shadow. Recycling the momentum already built, he slingshot himself through the void, reappearing behind Celeste and slapping her on the ass in passing. Riling her up always seemed to improve her performance. Twin beady eyes on the mob's colossal head still stretched towards its far side, searching for what collided against it from the near. Shell fractured, several spiky legs buckling under impact and upturning the monstrosity to leave it teet

"Nah. I wouldn't worry too much about that. The book is always there as a trigger for the quest, serving as a portal key that brings you to this particular instance. When the monkeys overpopulate, they just seem to eek out and cause trouble. As much as I think we'd all like to manufacture her potion, and spare everyone this unpleasantness, this is likely the only viable option." Examining the frame in greater detail, the Whisper muttered something to himself about a certain familiarity. "This looks like the elvish script they use in Kalanaes, or more specifically the older dialect use

A half twist at the unfamiliar voice, his blade would have been full out if there'd been more threat in the words, and less unexpected curiosity. "What the hell are you three doing here? Not the crowd I would have expect-" Wailing anguish of a kind brought about by the direst of tragedies split the dimming evening light. Shades of pinks and purples piled on long shadows that grew darker at the terror behind it, along with several disconcerting and sickening cackles. It was enough to pull the black blade to fruition. "Yeah," he resumed, replying to Bahr's nod. "I'm definitel

Freyd listened to those gathered offer insights. Just as in Firm Anima, all voices here were equal. His role here was purely as facilitator and one of several witnesses. "Owib’je’s abilities were similar to Wushen’s, from the last raid, in that their interactions were many and complex. Traits normally voided by immunity became clutch, albeit discreetly. Don’t underestimate the values of debuffs and like secondary effects. We’ve seen stuns and paralyze working in recent raids, even locksmithing proved its worth against Gabrandr's scathers. Our strengths are varied, and we’ll need the

Tension bled from Freyd's features as Wulfrin poured forth his vision and conviction. Years of wear lightened as the load on his shoulder lifted at hearing another answer the call. Wulfrin was a good man, and ready to take on the mantle he'd stumbled into assuming; one no longer suited to ambitions faded with time. Unaccustomed to even thinking of such things, Freyd felt old, yet rejuvenated in the same breath. "All of those are noble ambitions, my friend." A hand on his fellow's should signified the magnitude of the sentiment. Freyd wasn't the touchy feely type. He could have warne

"Err... yes?" Scratching at the back of his head, hesitantly, Freyd had been eager to join her on an outing, but wasn't quite sure how she was taking the suggestion that they'd run her through the Scents of the Wild quest series. As much as she would benefit from unlocking its totems, he was pretty sure he'd sold her at 'lunch.' In her typical, lovable manner, Elora hadn't blinked an eye at the fact that he was stomping around in clunky new armor. So far as he could tell, she ignored it on the basis that it was still black, and he always wore black. Does Batman have this problem, he

"Oh, good," Freyd grin, sensing opportunity in the vile gelatin's division. Strike at nothing, but directly between the two newly hatched halves, the Whisper wrenched his wrist like he was unlocking the back door to the universe. Not far off point, a screeching wail flooded the dungeon as a pinprick hole manifest in the space occupied by his fist: Samael's Pride the gateway to oblivion somehow loosing its seals. Slime kings collided with a sickening squelch, like eggs splattered against a sidewalk, then battered against each other by dueling cosmic leaf blowers. One was pulverized insta

"It almost seems tragic, doesn't it?" Even with an army of avian-simian-doohickeys outside, this particular quest mob never put up much of a fight. "Honestly, I'd leave her completely alone if the monkey's didn't periodically spawn out of control and start shitting all over the guild hall lawn and stealing roof ornaments. And if Rai hasn't managed to duplicate her special brew after all this time, then it probably can't be done." Rifling through the lair's reams of useless kitchenware and miscellaneous sundries, he arrived at the same conclusion. Still nothing. A sideways glance spared f

A wry grin several layers deep greeted the strange woman's comments. It bothered him that he knew who she was and what she meant. He shouldn't. It wasn't real. She and her story were merely part of some fever dream that had been haunting him since the last raid. 'Freyd' looked down at his shadow, it's form broadened at the shoulders and donning a wide cape and cowl, the silhouette of wings cast behind it. Cichol. It was a name and vision he shouldn't know, nor remember. Patting his midsection, the one called 'Whisper' remembered the anguish of fragmented identity the only Montjoy and Ni