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Foyle

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    Firm Anima

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  1. Following Wulfrin's instructions, Foyle speared the overgrown, flaming cockatoo seconds after it was stunned and before its feathers had even hit the ground. he even sacrificed his own footing to ensure a suitable blow was dealt as early as possible, fumbling and tumbling to keep from snapping his bow in half by accidentally bowling it over. Instead, the aged, white-haired scout stretched out into a lateral roll, thankful not to have accidentally speared himself on any wayward shards of protruding obsidian. "Did I hit it?" Face and body covered in Stay-puff worthy levels of soot and as
  2. "A fine plan, Master Wulfrin." No sooner had the swordsman's shatter taken effect than Foyle loosed another arrow towards their foe. But where the first had taken advantage of the demon's dazed state, it had already recovered and interposed its own unnaturally solid arms to block his shot. "Jeeves! It's getting up. Quick, see if you can't finish it off. I don't like the idea of what those blades could do if its bears them down on our tank." Rolling left to flank the boss, in case another shot were somehow required, Foyle cursed his poor fortune while pushing the outcome into the
  3. "Oh, yes, erm..." "Wulfrin," Freyd chimed in, filling in the awkwardly obvious fumble. "I know," Foyle retorted, albeit free of harshness. "I was just trying to recall when we'd last met. It was the mountaintop near Urbus, along with that other fellow. The martial arts training mission." Eyes scanning Wulfrin's paradoxically imbued blade, he stared at its wondrously. "Amazing, isn't it? What this world renders possible? Hmmmf. Makes me wonder what I might do with this trifling trinket, when the time comes." Icingdeath led the charge and to excellent effect, breaking the
  4. "Our friend is correct," Foyle added, their elder pointing out several symbols woven into the mandala towards which they were being ushered. "Ren and I saw these markings in Lichten, and drew some unwelcome attention while doing so. I had to usher our academic companion towards safer quarters before the knives came out." Grunting gruffly at the memory, the scout warily scrutinized the dancers still gyrating all about them before drawing and nocking his bow. "I'd wager on a fight waiting for us on the other side." Their masked hostess gave nothing away, favouring the less engaging deme
  5. ph *** Event Quest: Foyle assembles a Veena from strings collected here: https://www.sao-rpg.com/topic/41439-ev-pp-27-making-the-rounds-for-ronbaru/?do=findComment&comment=691060 [Waiting on updated gear to post stats]
  6. Finding some of the event crates scattered near the edge of the square, Foyle set them right before adding his own modest contribution to the pile. Not dramatically substantial, he was still proud to have contributed in some way. Grabbing a nearby broom he set to sweeping up the floral deluge, righting the mess his friends had setup, more out of habit than any sense of guilt. It was his nature to do so. "Freyd. Ren. Let's give them a hand, yes?" Nothing more was said as the others collected tools and crates of their own, setting to work beside him. If they were contributors to the c
  7. Wary by virtue of the proxy vibe emanating from his captain, Foyle's nature kept him close and alert. Ordsea seemed the more urban of the regions they had visited, and he had long been one to prefer the wilds. Time with Sewallus and his kin might have reinforced that particular bias, if unintentionally. Seeing to the cargo, and ensuring that proper payment was made, Foyle spared himself a moment to collect a small sample of local offerings and return to share them with the others. Each was appreciative, not having expected the kind gesture. Ren, especially, seemed touched. "It was al
  8. "I swear that they're not even trying anymore." Three marks floundered and fell a hundred yards out, Foyle's weapon relentlessly pummeling before they could even begin their advance. The last of the latest ragtag mobs standing between them and their final destination would be mowed down by Freyd and Ren within moments. Jeeves was still napping in the back of the wagon, wrapped around a bag of flour like some sort of adorable kitten. The others hadn't had the heart to wake him for what turned out to be a near-instant rout of their latest laughable opposition. "I almost feel bad. Almos
  9. "Seriously?!" Foyle's beard was so caked with snow and ice that he looked like the secret bastard child of Avalanche and Santa Claus. Cheers erupted from the nearby bonfire as the first crate was opened and fluffy white sugar puffs were violently speared before being roasted to charred perfection over open flame. "You know... it might actually make more sense than I first appreciated." Grabbing another load from the wagon, the scout made his way over with his offering, greeted like some hero returned from myth and legend. They soon had him in various forms of headlocks, jeering an
  10. A swift kick to the nearer target's head sent it spinning sideways, only to end up with a shot in its ear an instant later. "Some sort of escalating difficulty, I imagine?" Ren seemed to think so, likely being the most avid gamer of the group. "Sounds like event logic to me. Let's just hope we reach Ordsea before they break out the atomics." "I don't know," Freyd added with a scheming tone. "Might be fun to get our hands on to be used in the next raid fight." "Just keep the blast 'raid'-ius in mine, Jeeves chimed in," the pun oozing with self-evidence. "Yeah
  11. "Ren. Do you think we should stock up for the guild while we're here? You and others would surely benefit if we resupply our stocks. Most of these ingot are fairly mundane compared to some of the metals I've seen Griswold and others use, but..." "You've actually spoken to Griswold?! All he ever does is glare at me, like he's peering into my soul in search of worth and coming up empty. It's intimidating as hell." Mere mention of the senior smith's name had been enough to settle his companion. "He's actually quite genial. Maybe it's an age thing? The two of us get along quite w
  12. "That was a decent thing you just did," Foyle offered, once again surprised by Freyd's uncharacteristic consideration towards NPCs. "Thank you for thinking of these people." "That's just it, isn't it? People. I'd rather treat them as if they are, at least the ones who act like it. Too many are no better than the worst among us. You'll find me far less willing to offer them mercy or consideration." Grabbing crates from the rear of the wagon, Freyd busied himself with the voluntary distraction. Foyle soon joined, glad to have a digital back that wouldn't require a dozen heating pads
  13. Death-tipped shafts with falcon fletching zipped by Freyd's shoulder, most finding perch in centre mass. Three of the advancing mobs disintegrated in an instant, their motes sprayed like shiny fertilizer on the crops beneath their feet - possibly cabbage. It was too soon to notice, and standard veggies might not be on Dagan's menu given the unusual growing conditions. A muttered curse under breath, Foyle called out a warning, but his captain was ready. Despite his self-critique, Foyle had come a long way since their previous outings. Learning his martial trade at the hands of Ellesmer
  14. "Much of this floor is mountainous. Dagan, particularly, is prone to long shadows and ever-present night. You should feel right at home, Freyd." The captain offered a wry grin, partly just admiring Foyle's increasing openness, as demonstrated by the rise of sarcastic jabs over his usual formality. He seemed to think it suited him. "I can't say I understand how crops grow without light, or how crystals somehow do the trick. Sounds like magic, or a one-way trip to your oncologist's office to me." Bending low to inspect the condition of the axles on the merchant's wagons gave him an ai
  15. "Are you sure there isn't a mahjong table nearby?" A simple, wistful smile graced the old man's face when invited to partake. The game was a trifling too simple for his tastes, but reminded him of his granddaughter. That may have been the problem. How long had it been since the two of them had last chosen to play a game together. A simple game. She'd laughed with glee while placing the helmet on his head, giggling madly. He'd just let her do it, wondering what he was getting himself into. But it didn't matter. She was happy, and that was all that mattered. Tears inexplicably poole
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