[F3-SP] The Red Wanderer

[Raidou 1]

Whoever wishes to foresee the future must consult the past; for human events ever resemble those of preceding times.

The brisk crunch of grass, finding itself pushed flat underfoot. Harrowing yelling peels itself through morning air, as faces topped upon vibrant garb. Ringing and flashes of light, tastes of greed, bittersweet to the tongue. Desperately seeking an edge, an advantage or a meal. Like the floors before, players a plenty rushing too and from. Seeking health bars and the rewards that would spring out of them. An anthem of breaking glass, and the taste of victory. The stave off of just one more day, one more piece of borrowed time.

These very same players, pushing away and pairing away. Using each other, exploiting each other as they lap the nectar of blood sweat and tears. A boyish looking face, a crimson red robe. A pair of tired eyes that seem to gaze into the distance. Almost panicked, lost and stressed. The cloth of the mind unfurling in strands and finding themselves frayed at the edges. Hope that has turned to desperation, concern to anxiety. However, the taste of humanity like such golden salve stuck to this nomad's tongue. After all, he'd aim to be worth those that were lost. What would his family think of him, if he chose to allow the lambs to the slaughter. Just to save their skins?

"Excuse me, sir?"

An echo through the turbulent mind, reverberating off the walls. Like a smoldering knife searing through the silence. Fatigued hands stop, finding but a moment of pause. Amber eyes peer past the reflective lens, being visible only faintly through those windows. Expectant, and yet uncomfortable. Nervous, a boy in rather standard equipment looks down at the wanderer. A simple head of brunette hair, who smiles once they exchange glances.

"You look pretty strong, my party and I thought uh..." His courage waning, as the quiet gaze didn't waver. It wasn't obvious, but the mind was struggling to keep together even with a focal. "We were hoping maybe you could give us a hand?" Blinking rapidly, a squint as if he was trying to focus. "What did you have in mind?" The words felt taxed, stressed and uneven. Those amber eyes move past this kid, to a group of three.

Mega Slime Farm Activated: +10% Final EXP reward

Spoiler

Raidou, The Red Wanderer
Level: 32
Paragon Level: 90
HP: 1000/1000
EN: 118/118

Stats:
Damage: 24
Mitigation: 44
Evasion: 4
Accuracy: 3
Battle Healing: 55
Loot Dice: 6
AA
REC: 8
V.D.: 110

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Auric Sunlight - Finality of Faith [T4/Demonic/2HSS] +3 Damage, AA
Armor: Red Wanderer's Resolve - Sympathy [T1/Demonic/Cloth] 2 Evasion, 2 Vampiric Defensive
Misc: Tactician's Gaze - Ogma [T1/Perfect/Trinket]: +3 Accuracy

Custom Skill:


Skills:
Straight Sword R5
Cloth Armor R5
Battle Healing R5
Howl
Searching R5
Fighting Spirit

Active Mods:
Detect
Athletics
Vengeful Riposte
Tracking
Justified Riposte

Inactive Mods:

Addons:
Nimble
Ferocity
Precision
Focused Howl
Stamina
Reveal

Active Extra Skills:
Parry
Survival
Forgotten King’s Authority
Concentration

Inactive Extra Skills:

Battle Ready Inventory:

Housing Buffs:
Well Rested: -1 energy cost for the first three expenditures of each combat
Squeaky Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 25% (rounded down)
Hard Working: +2 EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day
Filling: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot.
Item Stash: +1 Battle Ready Inventory Slot
Delicious: Turn 3 identical food items (same quality, tier, & enhancements) into a Feast. A Feast contains 6 portions of the food items sacrificed.
Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
Col Stash: +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests
Advanced Training: +10% Exp to a thread. Limit one use per month [0/1]
Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll
Decor []: This buff affects the player and their choice of up to two party members.

Guild Hall Buffs:
Lucrative: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters receive +1 crafting attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters receive +2 crafting attempts per day.
Col Deposit: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

Scents of the Wild:
Kumatetsu Statue: +1 Base Damage for a thread

 

[Raidou 1]

Scanning those faces, one by one, and inserting them into memory. As if they were being etched to the inside of that tired mind. "We were thinking of trying to tackle a field boss, so you in?" A bombastic voice chips in, overshadowing the younger boy. Accounts rip through the wanderer's head, like ringing in his ears. Numbers bleed past in an instant, weighing these four against the statistics. "What are your builds?" Spoken as his hands continue to tear away at plants, plucking them from the soil. "We're DPS, and Mino is a healer." A tanned skinned male pipes up, gesturing to the red head that had spoken last. "Where is your tank?" The wanderer speaks in almost a snap, struggling to keep his mind on straight. 

"We don't really have one, don't need it if we kill it fast enough, right?" That phrase causes the nomad to immediately exhale irritably. On edge and stricken with mixed feelings. "I don't want any part of this, what your planning is foolish. There is no reason to just assume that everything is going to work out. Do you know anything about the Dark elf you are after?" His gaze locked on those materials, trying desperately not to look directly at them. But it was already far too late, he'd already memorized their faces. That group starts to look at one another, the support shrugs. "Not really, we figure it's probably not too high of a level. Between the five of us, we should be able to take it." Eyes sharply rip to the party, a scowl furling his brow. "Wrong, only four of you can participate. It will automatically drain your strength to its level. It's about tactics, not about numbers."

The sudden outburst makes them a bit uneasy, and the female starts to turn. Thinking this was going to be a lost cause. "I don't know why we even bothered, come on. Let's just go try. Beats sitting around trying to pick plants all day." That brunette kid still within close enough proximity to Raidou. "He knows something, Minerva. Look at him, and he knew about the boss by name. Won't you come with us? One of us can sit the fight out, and you can show us what's up?"

 

[Raidou 1]

The nomad's hands continue to move, trying their best to ignore these players. "You are not prepared for this, go home." He mutters just loud enough for them to hear him. "Whatever, it's clear that he doesn't want to help us, Regal. Forget him." Placing her hand on the brown haired boy's shoulder. The cascading sound of footsteps prove them leaving, and the wanderer continues to work in a deafening silence. Rustling leaves, birds chirping, returning as the primary noise. "Go home." Raidou pleads to the plants, as if he was speaking to them through the shadows. Time starts to crawl past, making ends meet and potions for another day's worth of scouring. Raising to the flats of his heels, and pushing through the foliage. Those branches spring back into place, recoiling once the tension is removed.

Making motions back to <<Aruyt>>, Tracking firing and yet failing. Coming up empty as it continued to seek out names, but it was as if they no longer existed. A blood-curdling scream pierces that silence, causing the hair on the back of Raidou's neck to stand on end. His feet pivot in the sand that make up this dirt road, reaching for a handle behind his right shoulder. Drawing out in equal distance, his stance lowering. Like a subsonic pulse, the ground sprays up into a cloud of dust as his skills trigger. Almost frantically honing in on the source of the howl, hoping that whatever it was, it wouldn't be too late. The brush gives way in smattering as it's torn asunder through the wake, a blade clutched in his right palm.

Holding the frame of a red-headed female, a blade plunged up to the handle through her back and poking out the front. Eyes wide in horror as they look upon the skewer, before the color of their body begins to become nothing more than bluish fuzz.

*Pssh*

[Raidou 1]

Shards of glass ring out, the ones that were once a person. Drawing a blade and violently tearing it against the front of a weakened but not entirely out Field Boss. The Dark Elf recoils as that cool gray blade rings in a vengeful red flare. Like a boulder down the side of a cliff, the thing scatters across the turf. Bouncing and tumbling before grinding to a halt. "Why didn't you listen!?" An almost feral screech to the silver haired girl, still stuck in shock, as he kneels down over the kid. Where was the tan skinned fellow? The red head was gone. Grabbing a fist full of the kid's collar, taking notice of a tiny blinking red bar, nothing more than a sliver. From the pouch on his hip, ripping out a vial and snapping the top off with his thumb. "Drink." Spoken like an order, but the body was limp. "DRINK, GOD DAMN IT."  A weak movement, reaching for Raidou's face. Lips move, but no sound comes out. The cracks forming on this kid's face, before he falls to pieces.

The red wanderer is left holding nothing, grasping at the particles as if he could put the kid back together. "What the hell were you all thinking! I warned you." His voice taking an almost sinister tone to it, sickening to the stomach. His anger obvious. That gaze twists right to the Dark Elf, and his shape starts to distort. Ripping The Black Star up and pivoting the edge down. "It didn't have to end this way." It burns hot like fire, the most ruthless slam of it through the dark elves chest sees it impaled, denting the ground beneath where it lay. Fuming in an almost silent outrage, trying to find where his glasses fell. He needed them desperately.

[Raidou 1]

The dark elf clamors against the implanted blade, trying his best to rip clean its point. A dark snap as Raidou twists the handle. Arms drop limply to both sides, losing the strength to move. It was as if a floodgate had opened, that silver haired woman starts to sob uncontrollably. Her entire world had been flipped upside down with one failed day. The nomad works to her, grabbing her wrists and starting to check for some wound. It was almost aggressive, still fuming that thick red smoke. "Why didn't you help us?" she chokes out through those tears. The guys hands stop moving. "You were not ready, I told you all to drop it. Why didn't you hear me?" It was the same harshness as if scolding her. He'd lost the thing that would have allowed him some tact. "I saw what you did, you could have solo'd that thing!" she shrieks, ripping herself away and keeping a buffer between them.

"What good would have that done? You wouldn't have learned anything. Your party would have only survived one more day. The point was to teach you why this was stupid." Looking past her and seeking out the glasses that had fallen from his face in his haste. Nowhere to be seen. "So what, you would just let us die instead!?" weakly trying to shove him, his body swaying just a bit. A shrill hoarse as her voice breaks, a blubbering mess. "It wasn't my doing. This could have been avoided." The nomad glares back, but was having a hard time convincing himself that she wasn't speaking the truth. "We wanted to prove you wrong, we wanted to prove we could do it on our own. That you were wrong. This would have never happened if we didn't meet you." A defeated grumble from her voice.

A hysterical jump to a conclusion.

"What if you're right, what If I intended for this to happen?" Twisting down and piercing through her skull with a pair of crimson eyes. His hatred on overload. "You're a monster. How could you do..." Startled by the sudden fury now within inches of her face. "Next time, perhaps I'll just do it myself. Would that be easier? Save you all the trip?" Of course, he was referring to killing the field boss. But it was easy to be misinterpreted by a girl who was already losing her shit. "I'm bad luck, I always have been. If you ever see me again, I won't let you rush out like an idiot. Blame me for this, when it was all a nightmare of your own design. Get the hell out of here." Throwing a teleport crystal in front of the girl.

[Raidou 1]

A snap almost in horror as she clambers out with both hands to the escape. Once it shatters, the girl was gone, and Raidou lets out a sigh of relief. A pent-up strength muddied with sadness. The smallest of crunches on a dirt path, before shaped into a patter of grass. The nomad leans down, placing a set of fingers where the bodies once lay. "It didn't have to end this way." escapes his lips, for within an instant four lives crossed his path. Four lives sought the sun with waxen wings. Four tombstones replaced them after they fell. "Why does no one seem to listen, are willing to stake their lives for fiction?" Asked to the soil, hoping that it would be so kind as to offer a response back. Shoulders slumped, as the red robe billowed out, concealing his lower half from view. Not unlike a column of blood. The boy's head remained static and stuck to the floor beneath him, as if he stared long enough, it would piece them back together.

Time trickled on in silence, drop by glorious drop it wormed its way ever forward. In that silence, the boy didn't seem to move. Only through careful inspection could one confirm he was even breathing. Hours and hours, empty and absent. Daylight twists to night, and yet he wasn't even aware of the change. A crash in the distance, something unknown, brings his attentions back from whatever journey they had taken. Pressing his fingers into his eyes, horrified at the day's events. He wanted the imagery to leave, hoping that he could physically push it out of his vision. But it only made his vision go white. Raidou shoves off, his eyes stinging with sensation as the lines carved just below them. The flats of his heels, and limply and weakly he looks for those lenses again. But they were lost in the darkness.

[Raidou 1]

His feet carry him back to the town of beginnings, a face that looked like it had endured a mountain of conflict. The clatter of his feet upon a gateway, and through a murmur he whispers "Floor 3, Aruyt". The gate illuminates in a sudden flare, and with a pulse it fires him up two floors in the blink of an eye. Aruyt was dead, not a soul in sight. All that remained was the gentle orange glow bleeding through small slits in walls. Portraying the occupants within, and the slight sounds of movement as he passes past those small openings. Footfalls bring him out the large barricade of wood and vine, into the rest of the floor that was empty. A clock in the corner reading back the time in pulses.

2:07 am

Descending into the forests below, making motions into the thicker mast of this ring of Aincrad. Heading due east, and disappearing into the white mists. The Forest of Wavering Mist, just as empty as the rest of this land. Quiet, but the occasional glance of a shape on the peripheral kept tensions high. Raidou was used to it, this was, after all, his home. With a direction that he knew, he pushes his way toward a small cottage concealed within. Reaching for a handle, and giving it a shove. The small flare of a candle is shown, all across the place a smattering of papers and the slight glare of glass. He moves to the countertop and starts to offload the herbs he'd gathered. The nomad leans forward, placing his forehead in his hand and pressing hard against it. Memories of the deceased racked through his head as if it kept happening over and over. The girl's words cut deeper than a razor sharp knife. As it turned out, emotional wounds such as these were the one thing he couldn't just make disappear after a few seconds.

[Raidou 1]

Pushing his hand off of his face, smearing the age of a day along with it. He tries desperately to dive into his work, starting to take a plant and work it in an mortar. Grinding it to a powder, small flakes of green, not unlike tea from a bag. He plucks the vessel and turns it over the top of a large sphere, seeing those flakes drop like snow inside to the awaiting liquid. His fingers clutch to a dial and with a twist heat begins to raise, the mixture within starting to boil. It slowly starts to shift into a green color, matching the herb added. An intense stare at that glass, seeing his own reflection in it. Raidou's arm finds the space across his face, as if wiping away sweat from his brow. Inhaling and exhaling in an attempt to stem a raising feeling.

He slams his arms down in one violent display, raking them from left to right across the countertop. A cacophony of falling glassware hits the floor in droves, cracking and shattering to small fractals in an instant. The liquid begins to ooze out in a pool, coating all manner of papers in brackish green liquid. They float gently about in that puddle. Raidou's back connects with a set of shelves right behind him, causing some awaiting vials to rattle. The wanderer's legs give out, and he finds himself into that tiny lake. Staring at a million tiny reflections of his own face, as memories flood back in chastising condemning of what he had done. Arms go limp and find that sea of lime, spattering as they plop in.

"Is it really my fault?" Raidou asks the interior, staring into the mirrors. He was trying to convince himself it wasn't, but the feeling was that perhaps it was. Did they die because he refused?

[Raidou 1]

Those sickly and somber moments as his own reflection seemed to stare daggers at him, silently judging him for actions he had undertaken. Like an audience, the pressure was enormous. The puddle beneath him continued to crawl, finding the seams of the floorboards and drawing them out in an opaque yet reflective outline. The gentle orange flicker forcing him to see, the air in his lungs burning to remind him of his failure. As if every breathe a brand and reminder that someone else could take no more. His chest felt tight and clambered and clung to every gasp, his heart ached and throat locked. He didn't know them and yet those faces had burned themselves so readily to the back of his eyes. His responsibility. His failure. How was it fair?

6:13 am

The singular strand of white light poured through a windowpane. It danced and entertained with the puddle, making what was drying still alight with the daylight. Within it the occasional droplet of green from the countertop above. Each sends rings that bounce through the puddle, waves that broke up the dozens of faces of his own reflection. The troubled breathing of the wanderer fought hard, struggling and his body ached. Exhausted as his emotional pain forced a physical one. Thoughts from that encounter, mixed and muddied with those players faces and voices.

"Next time, perhaps I'll just do it myself. Would that be easier? Save you all the trip?"

That sentiment, that thought, that statement. It was the one most pronounced among the rabble. Like a voice among a crowd with more volume. The sound matched only by the consistent and persistent tapping of droplets into a puddle. With weakness the wanderer turns to look at himself, removing his glasses for he needed them not to see.

[Raidou 1]

A couple new heartbeats into that puddle, but they matched not the rhythm from before. Like a misstep, they mixed poorly and diluted the lime green molasses as it crawled. Leaving these slightly more clear splotches to which his reflection became more clear. His sleeve finds his face, doing a fair job of smearing that color on his nose. Raidou replaces his glasses, and begins to pick himself up out of the wreckage. Grabbing a broom, he begins to drag it across the slime with the scraping of glass screeching out. He couldn't stand to look at himself any longer. It didn't do much but blur the liquid into streaks, but at least it removed the glass.

7:23 am

Eying the countertop, where his alembic and tools once sat. The herbs he had gathered had since dried and wilted, no longer viable. But none of that mattered, none of this truly mattered. He could produce all the potions in the world, he could sell them or give them away. Because at the end of the day, there would still be deaths. People weren't taking this seriously, their lives seriously. The day prior was proof, and again Raidou found himself battling with a mix of hatred and sadness. What could he do? No matter his pleas, his attempts or his warnings. They would fall on deaf ears.... That's when it clicked....

"She heard me..."

His mind raced to the teleport crystal in memory, she used it....

"She listened..."

The nomad looked at his own fucked up reflection in the sludge, albeit smudged and nearly unrecognizable. "Then so be it." he spoke to the droplets as they tapped feverishly in response. As if silently agreeing with the path he was willing to take. If they wouldn't listen to reason, then perhaps they would listen to fear.

 

---

 

That tapping continued to remind him, that somber tapping like a memorial for what was lost and what it meant. The door of his shop closed, leaving this silent anthem rippling against time itself as a constant reminder of what must be done.

 

Thread Complete:
Raidou | [Word Count: 3438/10 = 343.8] * [True Tier: 13] * [Group Factor: 1] * [Exp Bonus: 0.1] = 4916 EXP, Laurel Wreath: 737 col