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Freyd

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Everything posted by Freyd

  1. Walking behind her, occasionally looking up to ensure she was still headed the right way, Freyd felt silence was the safest course of action. I've traumatized the poor woman enough for one day. Decided self-assurance belied by the haunting of an inexorable fate, unknown to both, yet pending with tragic imminence. It wasn't far. And, while Aincrad's first floor was purported to be the largest, it never felt like it took very long to get anywhere. Maybe it was just a quirk of the system to help guide new players along, or other floors distorted perception for the sake of effect. Feeli
  2. Side by side, they heaved with everything they had. Resisted by several hundred pounds of metal over reptilian muscles and an implacable will to survive, they had their work cut out. Jomei had already done yeoman's duty by flinging a few others over the edge. Only these remained. Judging by the calls coming from up passage, more were on the way. "Not sure our efforts panned out as we'd hoped, but we might still manage to deal with this lot." A swift, unceremonious kick caught the nearest guard in the cod piece, folding him in half with a sound no man could hear without wincing.
  3. ♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ A blinding miasmic darkness melded around Callisto’s misanthropic roar as it sundered reality’s grip on their senses. Figures blurred and twisted while vile corruption wracking the bear’s very spirit, erupting in their direction to unhinge their souls and sanity alike. Freyd watched as his metal clad fingers stretched and distorted to spindle points, leaving contrails of time in their wake, memories of arms and legs alike in several places all at once. And then pain, as the abhorrent source sought to unmake each of them from within, erasing them from creation’s intricate tapest
  4. Ownership transferred to @Elora
  5. ph *** Freyd | HP: 1260/1260 | EN: 158/158 | DMG: 21 | MIT:152 | ACC:4 | F-SPIRIT | EVA:2 | BH:69 | VAMP-D: 69 | FLN: 16 | HLY: 16 | LD:4
  6. "Fire wish granted!" Stepping into closer quarters, Freyd flared the anima of his sword art into a deep azure blaze to match the colour of his eyes. Then all grace left his artful pose as he tripped on a writhing bit of vine detritus and spilled the flame upon himself rather than their foe. Like napalm loosed in the wrong direction, the fire slid along the slick surface of his armor and turned the Whisper into a silent burning torch and effigy, yet it somehow failed to consume him. "What the... oh, who cares why." Dashing forward with a leap, Freyd barreled into Callisto's
  7. Walking into the hellish dreamscape kaleidoscope that remained of the flower-strewn central grounds of Ronbaru, Freyd was glad to have passed that particular experience to another. That much raw colour might have killed him, or at least his monochromatic ensemble, had he been too close to the initial blast wave. All around, people were picking themselves off the ground and frolicking about like kids playing in an endless sea of autumn leaves infused with distilled Crayola essence. The whole area also smelled sickly sweet, but not quite to the extent of becoming nauseating. Smiling as h
  8. It was more of a puff than a shockwave, like the entirety of the participants in Ronbaru had loosed a collective gasp. They also had, but it was merely a reaction to the giant crafting-based ordnance unleashed by a certain clever youth with a penchant for rebellious mischief few recognized, and he hoped to steer away from the darker trajectory seeking to bind its fate. Content to have made himself scarce from the scene, Freyd had instead returned to Dayanita's station by the Diya Lighting staging grounds. Most of her trays and lanterns were long gone, players having taken the task in
  9. Reading the final inscription reminded him of the countless others he'd journeyed with over time. Those first trailblazers had forged a path forward, paid for in blood and anguish none of them could ever repay. Part of him hoped it was just another of Kayaba's lies: that death in game meant death in the real world. They had only his word it was true, yet people were terrified by the prospect alone. They lived their lives, and even ended them, according to its merest possibility. Watching those willing to stand in the front ranks of the raid teams' vanguard, he'd always wondered how they
  10. Ronbaru boasted a number of hidden garden glades sprinkled about its city centre like gems waiting to be discovered, preferably in pairs. These secluded islands of solace often attracted couples of all ages. Some came to fondly recall first visits while others forged fledgling bonds into burgeoning relationships to match the wide assortment of flowers, some of which inexplicably always seemed to be in bloom. Freyd was down to his last two lanterns as he wandered into the area, completely unaware that such a place even existed. It wasn't exactly the type of demesne on his usual list o
  11. The last of Cedrig's guardians fell before they could even nock another set of arrows, the benefits of range being less than they might have imagined. A heavy boot smashed through the locked door, showering splinters beyond as its remnants slammed against the side wall to reveal a gruesome seen. "Cedrig, I presume?" Slumped over the foreman's desk, strewn with scribbled machinations come to naught and empty coin bags with proceeds spent on an ill-timed gambit. "Ronbaru was crawling with heroes this week. Did you really think this sort of thing wouldn't attract the worst possi
  12. Pulling drawstrings from the booth's outer balcony caught Freyd's attention. "Right. Guess what's good for the goose is good for the mob? Not sure that works, but we'll run with it." Eight archers stood with bows aimed at him, arrows ready to take flight. "Leave. Now. Last chance." His hands were shaking so vigorously that he nearly loosed just from the sweat building on his fingertips. "Ah. But, whose last chance, I wonder..." Veritas, held in a high guard, dared them to attack, though they would never get the chance. Saved as a trump card, Freyd called forth
  13. Watching their captain's sword flee while still attached to his arm, but nothing else, broke the others' morale. Dropping their weapons, one among them was bold enough to posit switching allegiance. "We surrender! Please... we could... work for you? Yeah. Captain always said how important it was to find powerful clients, and you look like you have lots of coin." The others nodded, dumbly, too desperate to realize how poor a sales tactic it was to try to demonstrate your worth by betraying your previous employer. "Sorry. Your captain was also right about loyalty. A merc who d
  14. "Do you know how many of you I've cut down just to get here?" They might have thought he was boasting, but dozens of their fellows from this building alone had not returned. Having once again donned his faceless mantle, Freyd's earlier efforts paid off as these mercenaries questioned the merit of their pay. "This isn't worth it, boys. Let's cut our losses and leave this cur to his own mess." "The Red Blades do not abandon their contracts! Try finding work if you do. We got paid. We're staying. End of story." Their captain's words stiffened the soupy steel in their spines en
  15. What loot and pillage the brigands had already taken was stockpiled loosely in the space. There was enough to provide cover, but still sufficient gaps to swing a wide arc with his blade, when the time came. "Not a bad balance, given the likelihood of more trouble." As if bidden, another dozen thugs spilled from their hiding places to encircle him, hoping to blindside a solitary fighter. They had no way to know the depth of his vision, nor house their very presence armed him with options. A flick of his wrist sent their shadows flying away from him to engulf the lanterns scattered
  16. Clearing out all remaining resistance from the outskirts, he knew that Cedrig's best warriors would be kept close. The man was a coward, based on everything revealed to date; a small and petty man paying others to do what he could or would not do himself. None of those assumptions were guaranteed, but the picture had been painted clearly. It just meant mopping up a bigger mess before getting to the core of the problem. Wading through a failed ambush at one of the warehouse entrances, the Whisper feigned being one of their own then turned on his would-be assailants from behind. His arm
  17. Returning to Cedrig's not-so-discreet warehouse, Freyd charged from the shadows to decimate the main guard presence at the door. Drawing the others out, rather than getting swarmed inside a cage, seemed like the better plan. Dragging the battle out just long enough to let the alarm be raised, he retreated to favourable terrain and waited for the enemy to come to him. It didn't take long. "Your predictable compliance is appreciated. Please accept this complimentary sword slash as your reward." The quizzical expression on the mob's face was precious. "Don't worry, lads. I brou
  18. "No. Probably not. Unless he's a very precautious twelve-year-old, or something." "He is not, though he may sometimes act like one. I'd Elgar, by the way. Thank you, on behalf of my house. We might have been decimated without your timely intervention. Rest assured that you'll be well-rewarded for your troubles." Freyd nodded, absentmindedly, checking on the petal count in his inventory, preferring not to have to explain why. The NPC would not have understood, leaving that awkward hanging gulch that occasionally developed in the AI processors when the system was reminded that
  19. Allowing himself a brief detour to explore the local festivities confirmed that the chaos hadn't quite reached them yet. Whatever kerfuffles had been set off were still limited to dark alleys, seedy bars and other places of ill repute. Finding the contact the merchant in Ronbaru had described to him, he filled the rather startled man on the plot against him and his family. "Seems like you have some bad blood in the lineage," he began. Mention of Cedrig quickly connected the dots. "I can't say I'm surprised. The man's always had more ambition and money than brains. I just never t
  20. Ordsea's criminal underbelly was already popping Pepto before he even got close, panic setting in as the locals fretted that others were coming to steal their turf. By the time Freyd actually entered the City, the guard were in a tizzy, wondering what could possibly have set the streets afire. "They say some big crime boss is moving in. Some sort of hostile takeover thing? Sounds like we might have a nasty turf war heading out way." "Not great with the festival going on," replied his partner, as he waved a normal-looking Freyd through the gates. It seemed his mischief might have g
  21. By the end of the afternoon, the original mob had been whittled down to stragglers. Groups were turned into solitary survivors, left to find their way back to Lichten in disarray. When the last of the ambush group had been dealt with, Freyd interrogated the rest and found his way to a nearby barn that had been used as a staging area. The lot inside had a few more brains, which were quickly scattered into the stalls to keep the mess in check. Tongues loosened considerably towards the end, several mentioning the name Cedrig, and associating it with a particular emblem he's already spotted ar
  22. Racing through the woods, full bore, another gaggle broke the tree line and cut through a low, narrow gorge cut through the countryside by a shallow creek. Their hopes of escape were soon dashed when they realized how they'd funneled themselves into a route with no escapes. Rounding a bend, they met Freyd's blade, his judgment delivered without hesitation or regret. He was alone, and while a few stragglers would be permitted, today was meant to sent a message to the local underworld. One our of every ten would be allowed to live. "You know who I am, yes?" Truth's tip danced a fraction
  23. "You two stay right there where I can see you. Not another step or we'll cut you down!" Madness swirled about the edges of the speaker's eyes, his three companions just as unhinged and tainted by desperation. "Geoffrin, it's me: Karl. Come on. We can't stay here. If we make a break for Ordsea now, the rest can serve as dec..." Karl's head chose an early departure, but left the rest of him behind. Having resumed the guise of the hooded black samurai, his face concealed by a shroud of roiling shadows, Freyd stood there a moment to let the mobs ponder their fates. The black sword in
  24. Another group gathered in a glade, brandishing weapons in an outward circle like some rag-tag tortoise formation. "Can you see where he went? Is it just the one? Oh, gods... what the hell is happening?" Every creaking branch and snapping twig, every pained cry in the distance became a source of panic rising in their throats, wondering from which direction death would come. Too late, they discovered it already in their midst. Shifting appearances once more, Freyd turned from ally into foe before their eyes. Nowhere was safe. No one to be trusted. He let two live and flee, so th
  25. Dashing for the treeline wouldn't help them. The paths through shadow traveled by the Whisper knew no true distance. He could overtake them with little effort, springing at them from behind boughs and trunks alike. Nowhere was safe, no shelter deep or dark enough to hide in. Batman would have been proud, if he was a villain. Freyd wasn't exactly proud of all this. Diwali hardly proved a proper backdrop for this sort of thing, and at least some of these men likely had families. Poor life choices indeed. With rumours swirling about dark influences spreading in the corners and recesse
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