Oz

Name: Minor Damage Potion Your Profession: Alchemist Your Rank: 3 ID: 228672 Roll: CD10 Item Type: Potion Tier: 1 Quality: Uncommon Enhancements: DMG I Description: Absolute swill. Hurts you as much as you'll hurt those mobs. Almond aftertaste. Post Link: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/40759-f13-r4-alchemist-the-sour-rumor-wip/?do=findComment&comment=685520 Name: Minor Damage Potion Your Profession: Alchemist Your Rank: 3 ID: 228674-1 Roll: CD9 Item Type: Potion Tier: 1 Quality: Uncommon Enhancements: DMG I Description: Absolute swill. Hurts you as much as you'll hur

CRAFTING ATTEMPTS 6-12. (08/27/2024)

Name: Better-Smelling HP Salve Your Profession: Alchemist Your Rank: 1 ID: 228653 Roll: CD12 Item Type: Salve Tier: 1 Quality: Perfect Enhancements: HP Recovery III Description: An improvement over the previous salve. Doesn't smell great, but not horrible, either. Minty aftertaste. Post Link: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/40759-f13-r1-alchemist-the-sour-rumor-wip/?do=findComment&comment=685511 Name: Minor Antidote Your Profession: Alchemist Your Rank: 2 ID: 228654 Roll: CD9 Item Type: Salve Tier: 1 Quality: Uncommon Enhancements: Antidote I Description: Truly awful.

CRAFTING ATTEMPTS 1-5. (08/27/2024)

▩ W A R E S ▩ All available products are of Perfect quality. Limit 20 items per writer per day. Stock / Order Form Congealing Ale. Tierless Antidote Salve. When applied, prevents any status effect from being applied to the consumer. Each slot is a charge. When a status effect is blocked, a charge of Antidote is expended. Effect lasts for one thread.

Oh, son of a bitch. Despite his hopes to the contrary, it appeared they'd managed to find the fucking thing after all. There it stood, in all its monstrous, shitty glory, gleaming in whatever tepid light could be squeezed from betwixt the gloomy overcast that blanketed the entire floor. Or was that simply scintillation cast by the fiery hot magma pumping through its veins and across its skin? There was no telling, really. All Oz could really know for certain was that he had no business fighting this thing. "On your mark," came a murmur from behind. Great, his interloper was indeed st

Buying the following item: Custom Ambition Tool [800 col] Total: 800 col

Breath of Life - a remote village nestled away in the foothills of the thirteenth floor. A largely unremarkable smattering of dilapidated structures, at least to those who don't know how it got it start. For the businessman looking for a fresh (and cheap) start, Breath of Life features an ideal selection of meager structures for just such a venture. It's small, quaint, quiet, and a new shop here is all but impossible to overlook. It sees little traffic in the way of NPCs and Players alike, but that's just what Oz likes about it. Far from the prying eyes of those busybodies at Angel's Point, Br

When he asked, Oz didn't answer. Cards close to the vest and all that. It seemed Pinball was properly (and likely rightfully) repulsed by Oz at this point, but he paid it no mind. What he was more interested in was that smoky cat thing that had enveloped Pinball and caused him to vanish without a trace. That's fucking dope, Oz thought to himself. I want a pet as cool as that. Whimsically, Oz placed the chalk within the already existing line left by Pinball against the corridor's wall and began moseying along in no particular direction, whistling all the while. Truth be told, the end

Buying the following item: Spyglass (x3) [800 col] Total: 800 col

Name: Putrid-Smelling HP Salve Your Profession: Alchemist Your Rank: 0 (EaL Craft) ID: 227184 Roll: CD10 Item Type: Salve Tier: 1 Quality: Uncommon Enhancements: HP Recovery 1 Description: A basic salve of little real value. Smells horrible. Wouldn't put this on my skin. Post Link: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/40687-sp-f01-absolutely-the-fuck-not-evangeline/?do=findComment&comment=684864

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Just like Bernie Sanders, Oz was once again at the traveling chef asking for his support. There was a particular sort of consumable he'd neglected to grab the visit prior, and now that he was out, well, that meant he needed some more. Sue me, I just wrote like 6k words and I'm strapped for inspiration. This crossed out text won't count toward the word count. Lord, what am I doing, I probably could have been done now. YEET. "This one, please," Oz said as he pointed at something that was impossible to pronounce, yet alone spell. "Sight is good. I like to actually, like, see the stuff I'm tr

Buying the following item: T1 Immolation Potion [300 col] Total: 300 col

"Wow, it's so fucking cool!" Thanks to Morningstar having stunned the colossal weirdo, Oz was given ample opportunity to get up close to the monster and inspect it in more granular detail. He ran a finger across its smooth-looking skin and was surprised to find that it instead felt exactly like sandpaper. "Do you think its skin is only rough because it hangs out in the sand all day? I always thought sharks were smooth-skinned. Or, at least, that's how they always looked in the pictures." Not like it mattered, the fucking thing was made of pixels. A singular beady eye tracked Oz as he

"Watch out for the Titanium Warden." God, the shiver that sent up Oz's spine. He'd heard tale of the massive hulking brute and what it had managed to do to unprepared Players, and those were the ones that were a high enough level to actually justify perusing a floor such as this. Considering he'd lost his Teleport Crystal, he'd be well and truly fucked if he came across something like that. Not like he'd fare much better against the other creepy crawlies this floor featured. His saunter slowed to a halt, and he took a moment to mull over just what he could do given his lack of options.

As the horizon cradled the sun, and Oz had time to reflect on the day's events, he realized he hadn't even thought of Evangeline and her stupid lack of training for most of the day. His efforts to blot out that part of his experience by way of fighting silly plants and plying his fisherman trade had paid off. And it had made him drowsy, to boot. He yawned as he cast out his line, eyes steady on the sun as its base began to slip out of view past the mountains that encircled the first floor. He had a lot of time to figure this stuff out. He didn't need to have all the answers right away. Bu

Ah, there it was. The long awaited self-combustion of a mob too stupid to realize that hitting Oz would only hurt itself. It fell, and in the wake of its untimely death, a loot window populated with a rare trinket. Brilliant. More stuff he'd never use. But with that done, there were no longer any of the plants sitting around the pond to bother him. He surmised that he must have been spotted by one of them whilst trying to flee during his last scrape with the buggers, and so that explained away why they had encroached upon his spot. Still, to be safe, this time he wouldn't leave anything u

The sun was starting to get a bit lower in the sky, and so Oz committed himself to this being the final mob he would slay for the day. Maybe get another attempt at fishing in before called it for the evening. A simple pleasure, a small way to unwind after having dealt with these putrid plants all day. He was absolutely covered, head to toe, in their awful bile. He couldn't even imagine how he smelled. He had all but become nose blind to it at this point, as a consequence of having been dowsed in it all day. Not that he usually smelled better without plant bile covering him, though. He was sure

And there it was. He was out of Energy. Again. And facing down a final Rotfiend with what appeared to be just over half health, given its still green coloration. If he was correct, and he rarely was, he had a hunch that this thing would simply implode the moment it made contact with his Thorns. So if he was to take the situation seriously, his best bet at this point was to simply stop trying to attack altogether. It wasn't worth the Energy expenditure, and he could expect the mob to kill itself before he ever even had the Energy built back up to do anything meaningful to it anyhow. If he bided

The thought had occurred to him in the past that, as the numbers on the Frontlines began to thin, Players on the lower floors may be called upon. Floor Raids were hosting increasingly difficult bosses and, inevitably, more and more people were going to die. Those who wanted to be on the Frontlines had already more or less committed themselves to do it. The rest of the Players seemed content to bide their time and focus on other things more amenable to their temperaments, much like Oz had. So what happened if the numbers on the Frontlines whittled away to a volume untenable to game complet

It appeared he had some reflection to do. Some soul searching, as grotesque as he found the term to be. He tried not to be the sort for introspection, but he was starting to reach a juncture within Aincrad where what he'd been doing simply wasn't good enough anymore. He was going to want to spread his wings. He was going to want to explore those higher floors. And now that he'd gotten a taste for what measured success in combat could look like, as reluctant as he was to admit it, the appeal was growing on him. Not on this round of combat, though. Jesus. There were only two Rotfiends left,

He didn't want to be stuck on the lower floors forever, if Aincrad were to be considered his new permanent residence. As much as the lower floors had to offer, there was so much more higher up, and he knew it. He would, eventually get tired of what meager offerings the lower floors had. He sort of already was. Ten years on the lower floors started to wear on a guy. There were times he found himself considering a vacation to the twenty-fourth floor, only to ultimately decide he couldn't justify it because the mobs there would eviscerate him with a sneeze. So what was he to do? Was the corr

An unexpected flash of multicolored light painted the walls before Oz in a brilliant smattering of hues, the shadow cast by his unmoving form carving a dark cavity into the kaleidoscopic mosaic. It lasted for but a moment, the smooth surfaces that stretched out before him returning to their original dull, monotone grey just as quickly as they'd been illuminated. Oz's slow turn to look over his shoulder and investigate the source of the mottled glow would reveal an interloper with an orange cursor and a familiar black cloak, obfuscated behind a pall of glimmering fractal shards. It was difficul

Once again, Oz found his mind circling back to how he could possibly ever handle more threatening mobs if he managed to crawl his way out of the lower floors. These guys were nothing. They were stationary. They were no more durable than a wet paper bag. Yet, even with all the preparation he had made prior to leaving the Town of Beginnings, he just couldn't reliably take them out quickly. He could defeat them, yes, but he was concerned by just how much effort and time he had to invest into each and every kill. It was something that he tried not to worry himself with. Something he assumed j