[PP - F9] Boiling Over [Alkor]

[Lessa 1]

She was always so impressed, and a little bit intimidated, by the way he remained calm during battle. Lessa spent so much time worrying about others, and it made her sick to watch them take damage. She was so concerned that someone might take a little too much, and slip away from her forever. But that did not seem to bother Alkor, as he made yet another joke in the face of real danger.

He was allowing her to finish the creature off. But just as she had predicted, the salamander grew more unpredictable as it was weakened. As she rushed toward it, it attempted to rake its claws across her just as it had to Alkor. "Whoa," she cried out, throwing her body to one side as it attacked her. Luckily, the last minute shift in her path carried her away from the salamander's claws, and toward and unprotected space on its side. She took advantage of the opportunity as soon as it presented itself. Pulling her weapon back, she then thrust it deep into the salamander's flesh. She put as much force as she could behind the attack, and fell to one knee as she pushed forward. It was just enough, and the beast burst into data around her.

The blonde used her claymore to help herself stand up. "Sure," she replied, nodding. "We can do that. I could use the materials." As she spoke, she accepted the material from the salamander.

{Battle: 10. Mob: 2. Loot: 4. Lessa deals 7 damage - base, +2 critical, + 2 two-handed skill, + 2 Hell Rose}

Alkor: 12/19

Lessa: 19/19

Salamander: DEAD

[Lessa acquires one material.]

[Guest]

"I could use a better sword," Alkor muttered, discontent on the topic of materials. He slid the Anneal Blade into its sheath and shut his eyes, taking a moment away from the hell he was trapped in to compose himself. "Every victory feels better than the last," he reminded himself. In a way, it was true; with each battle that past, he became stronger. The problem was, the feeling of that victory had become hollow, and he needed something greater to breathe life into it again.

He knew going on about the Front Lines wasn't anything Lessa wanted to hear, yet her plan was to push them toward that goal. Alkor knew no way to find a middle ground, and so he gave his discontent no voice. With a quick glance over the menu, Alkor rooted out an area not so far from where they were that might have a decent number of (slightly) weaker enemies, creatures they could safely and effectively "farm."

"Antlions," Alkor explained, "are small, yet quick insect type mobs that have a small chunk of HP, but only deal a moderate chunk of damage." They continued to walk together in relative silence, only really breaking it when Lessa had an inquiry. Alkor was far more interested in the task at hand. "They should be in groups of three, and not too far ahead..."

[Lessa 1]

"You know," Lessa began, sliding her own weapon back into its sheath, "I could craft you a new sword. I am a blacksmith, after all." Though her words could be misconstrued as being such, her tone revealed that she was not being the least bit sarcastic. She ran a hand through her long hair, and let it fall loosely over one shoulder. "I'd be happy to do it, especially if we pick up a decent amount of materials out here." Was she coming on too strong? She was just a guild master, working to provide her guild members with the best equipment possible. Right?

Back to the matter at hand, Lessa responded with, "sure, we could do that. I don't think that I've encountered an antlion before."

As they walked, side by side, the blonde knew exactly what was on Alkor's mind. It was what was always on his mind. "The leader of the Crimson Inquisition contacted me a few days ago," she told him, finally, just to ease his mind a bit. "He's trying to put together a party to clear the ninth floor."

[Guest]

Alkor stood quietly on the harsh sand in the wake of her comment. His experience with the players of the Inquisition told him they were moderately driven people, but their intentions were in all the wrong places. Even if they were close to ready to tackle the ninth floor dungeon, they were far from the people he'd like to see do it. They would probably ride the fanfare from their victory to extend their sinister designs. "He did, huh." He knew Lessa was attempting to gauge his response, so he gave no overt reaction to conceal his conflict.

"And you think it's time?" He asked finally. Alkor had become restless on the topic of the dungeon, which was why he had started making a mad press toward leveling up. He had gone silent in replying to most messages, isolated himself in an endless grind, and started spending his down time attempting to craft items to enhance his own skills as well as the skills of other potential front liners. He personally felt ready, but there was no one out there he felt confident could match his pace safely. It wasn't a matter of overconfidence, rather, he was one of the last truly committed players in the game. For the moment, anyway.

The one time he had fought alongside Argumail, Alkor had been brought to wonder about the man. His reservations about leaving the fate of all the players in SAO to him were markedly vast in scope. "Northeast," Alkor grated, "just beyond the city limits. They're close enough to be weak, but still ninth floor mobs."

His steps were still measured, despite the depth of his thoughts. He let out a soft sigh, shaking his head. "You're a Guild Leader," he told her, "you make your decisions. The rest of them follow." He didn't say anything directly about her offer to make him a sword. His comment had been a mildly irritated one, born from the frustration of not being able to do more damage. He wasn't thankless, but he certainly did not want to seem desperate or make her feel as though she had to make him anything.

[Lessa 1]

She studied her companion for a moment, still trying to pick out any hints as to his thoughts. He had always been difficult to read. She had noticed that the first time they met, and experienced it again that day they met on the hill. She still remembered the way he had sat beside her in the grass, his mind a million miles away, his face completely bereft of emotion. It had bothered her then. And while she was growing used to it, it still got to her occasionally. Understanding people had always been her greatest strength. Alkor, it seemed, was her kryptonite.

"No," she said, finally shattering the silence. "No, it isn't time. We aren't ready yet." She scratched her head, then turned to look away from him. "I know you're eager. I am too. But I want to make sure that everyone is prepared. I don't know what things will be like up there. I'm not willing to risk lives, just to rush in half-cocked." Her voice softened. "I'm sure you understand that."

"Besides," she continued, "I'm still wary of the Crimson Inquisition. I hardly know their leader, and I disagree with many of their methods. If working with them will help us beat this game, I'll do it. But only if I'm confident that it is necessary."

Turning back to him, she met his gaze and concluded, "but Alkor, I don't want my guild to be like that. Technically, I'm a guild leader, because I'm the one that formed the guild. But I do not want to be a dictator. It is important to me that everyone contributes, not only on the battlefield, but off it as well. Everyone has a say in what we do." She worried that she was being too preachy, but she also felt it needed to be said. "I don't want a guild of sheep."

[Guest]

"That makes two of us," Alkor confirmed. "I fought beside Argumail once." He didn't feel the need to elaborate. Lessa would undoubtedly pick up on the implication. Once you'd seen someone fight, you knew more about them than most people who had spent time around them in the real world. That was especially true for Alkor. "He's not ready."

He moved further toward their destination without turning toward Lessa. "Let him do what he wants." Alkor looked over his shoulder at her. "People will do what they want to do," he told her. "If he wants to die, it's not on your conscience."

Certainly, it was a cold thing to say. Alkor wanted to protect everyone in Sword Art Online, but he was a realist. He accepted that there were people who resolved to end it. People who's minds and hearts he could neither control, nor wanted to. Lessa was a different extreme entirely. She took every life to heart, even the ones she couldn't save.

Alkor decided that was the danger of being him. He'd become cold, detached, estranged from many players in his quest for the strength to fight. Maybe it was wrong that he didn't feel the pain of every life lost. Maybe it would hit him later. One thing was for certain, however.

"You can't shoulder their pain."

[Lessa 1]

His words were cold, but she understood. Lessa knew that Alkor believed in what he said wholeheartedly. He recognized that some individuals simply could not be reached, despite his best efforts. He used this as an excuse to let some people slip through his fingers. Lessa simply did not agree with his thought process. You can't shoulder their pain? Lessa repeated silently. She bit down on the inside of her cheek and inhaled slowly though her noes. So some people aren't worth saving? Was her own retort. Who's job is it to decide who can and can't be saved? Every person is inherently good, so at some level, any person can be saved. She sighed softly. Or am I just far too naive for this world?

 

The younger of the pair recognized that she and Alkor would never come to an agreement on this matter, and she did not feel up to arguing with him again. Instead, she put her hands behind her head, and glanced off into the distance. "So," she piped up, "if you were to get a new sword, what sort of enhancements would you be interested in? Just curious."

[Guest]

Alkor noticed the nonverbal cue for unrest out of the corner of his eye, though he elected not to mention anything about it directly. Instead, he laughed quietly. She was certainly learning how to avoid unnecessary debates. Alkor liked to avoid them where he could, which was why he rarely rose to the baiting of others. There just wasn't enough time in a day.

At her question, he shook his head. "No, nevermind," he said quickly, lifting a hand in gentle dismissal, "I was just complaining. I don't have the money to pay for that kind of work,"

Though he had more money than he mostly needed, he felt horrible about the idea of putting Lessa out like that. About fifteen yards out, Alkor began to see an antlion rising from the sand. "Bingo,"he said with a smirk.

[Lessa 1]

"Wait!" The swordswoman called out suddenly, reaching a hand out toward Alkor. Her face was flushed, the blush extending down her neck and under her armor. Something had her pretty worked up. He said not to worry about the sword. Maybe he really doesn't want it? Well, it was too late now. There was no turning back.

 

"Before you go, Alkor, I-" her voice trailed, and she dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry I asked you about the sword. Because, well-" again, she struggled to find the words. Finally, she heaved a sigh and brought up her inventory. She scrolled through the items, doing her best not to toss him a glance over the top of her menu. Finally, she found what she was looking for. Delicately, she pressed the screen. Immediately after, there was a swirl of colors on the ground before her. The ribbons of light seemed to weave themselves around the item as it materialized. It was not a sensation either of them was new to. But the weapon that lay between them was something unusual.

 

"This is Nightbringer," Lessa told him, her voice shaking a tad bit. The weapon seemed impossibly red, even against the volcanic rock. She stooped down, and plucked the sword up. "It will increase your damage dealt by three. It is the first truly perfect weapon that I've ever crafted." What if he doesn't like it? What if he wanted something else? What if red isn't his color? Maybe he wanted blue! "I'd like you to have it."

[Guest]

"I..." he started to speak as she toggled her menu and the item began to materialize. When it took shape and the pixels colored it in, Alkor fell impossibly silent. The blade that she held out to him was... "magnificent."

The word rolled off his tongue unlike anything he'd ever said, as if in that moment he'd been rendered completely incapable of hiding his normally guarded emotions. The word had rasped out like it had been beaten from a schoolboy in the yard, and he was struggling to sound fine.

Shaking fingers touched the weapon with uncertainty, but a warmth that felt somewhere between righteous and malicious surged through him, and in contact with that perfect weapon, he felt immense. Alkor felt more powerful in that instant than even surviving a monstrous strike from a boss had made him feel.

"It's perfect," he intoned, reiterating the sentiment she had already offered. He looked up at her like a child at its parent, as if ensuring that taking hold of the Nightbringer was really ok. When she indicated that it was, that the weapon was really and truly his, Alkor took it tightly in his grip.

<<Trade complete>>

He toggled the Anneal Blade and dismissed it to his inventory, and in the next moment, he slid Nightbringer gently into its rightful place at his hip. His golden eyes flickered with some hidden emotion as he stepped forward and wrapped an arm unbidden around Lessa's neck, and pulled her close to his chest.

The words thank you stuck like a lump in his throat, and the display of affection took all of the courage he'd gained just a moment before, but he held her there for several long moments, in not a tight and uncomfortable embrace, but a gentle and timid one.

When he released her, he turned away quickly, though the tinge of red about his cheeks may just have been from the heat of the floor.

[Lessa 1]

Before her eyes, Alkor transformed into a different person. She could pin-point the exact moment when his fingertips first grazed the sword's ornate hilt, and his walls came crumbling down around him. His display of emotion, so foreign to her, was enough to bring forth tears of her own. She felt them pushing at the back of her eyes, but she would not let them fall. This was his moment, not hers. She would not spoil it. So instead, Lessa stood there, her blush still raging on her cheeks, a crooked smile on her pink lips.

 

She opened her mouth to ask him if he liked it, but closed it immediately when he reached for her. Lessa gasped, but allowed herself to be pulled closer to him. His hold on her was gentle, and they were not shoved up against each other. But without thinking, she let her head fall, resting her forehead on his shoulder. She inhaled deeply, taking notice of every scent that clung to his cloak in that exact moment. Then she sighed, her body relaxing into the embrace. They stood like that for a while, which was perfectly alright with Lessa. It had been so incredibly unexpected, that hug. It was so uncharacteristic, and she would replay it in her mind for some time. But it had been as enjoyable as it had been surprising.Then, he pulled away.

 

"I'm glad you like it," she finally told him, staring at the back of his head. Part of her was thankful that he had turned away, because her blush had grown even more severe when he brought her against him. This sword is clearly yours, she thought to herself. It was like it was made for you. And besides, there is not another player in this game that deserves it more. Or that I would want to carry it.

 

She dropped her gaze, willing her cheeks to cool down. Then, digging at the dust with the toe of her boot, she said, "I think you're ready for those salamanders now."

[Guest]

"Maybe," he replied, "but we should focus on grinding out the small things. You need materials, right?" They both did, honestly; that why why they'd come out here in the first place. More mobs meant more drops. It was more realistic for what they wanted to get out of the day.

"Might be a little more ready for the boss now," he said with a wink. Alkor notably refused to smile. He was only half joking. A few moments passed and they found themselves in the roiling sand, deeper than before.

"Antlions are tricky," he told her. "Watch out when they burrow underground. They don't do a ton of damage, but they're nasty little things. Their fangs deal burn damage when they critically hit you."

Alkor: 19/19

Lessa: 21/21

Antlion 1: 20/20

Antlion 2: 20/20

Antlion 3: 20/20

[Lessa 1]

Of course, he had to ruin the moment by making another boss jab. The corners of her lips dipped, her smile disappearing, but she would not comment. That was a discussion for another time. And if Alkor had his way, it would be a sooner than later.

 

At least he had Nightbringer now. That brought her some relief. If he was to carry any weapon into battle, she felt better knowing it was one of hers. It was the strongest weapon she was able to craft, and she hoped it would keep him safe. Not that she would ever be able to express that though.

 

Snapping back to the present, Lessa listened to Alkor's warning. "Got it," she called back, drawing her claymore. Her weapon, though not as powerful as Alkor's, had become a part of her. She hoped to one day improve it, but she would never dream of throwing it out. Hell Rose had been with her through everything, and she put all of her faith in it. She could not say that about every piece of equipment.

 

The blonde lunged for the first antlion. Her companion had noted that they liked to burrow, so she hoped to catch it before it had the chance. She was pleased when she was able to not only reach the thing, but take a swing at it. Alkor had been right, they weren't especially powerful. Backing away, she watched its health bar take a substantial hit.

 

{Battle: 8. Mob: 2. Lot: 2. Lessa deals 6 damage - base, + 2 Hell Rose, +3 two handed skill.}

 

Alkor: 19/19
Lessa: 21/21

Antlion 1: 14/20
Antlion 2: 20/20
Antlion 3: 20/20

[Guest]

He ripped over the sands at top speed, and from his side, a glimmer of faint crimson blossomed into a streak of bloody crimson. The same creature Lessa had targeted and wounded only moments before now staggered in the aftermath of a monstrous strike from Alkor's new weapon.

He stood on the other side of the three Antlions marveling at the blade, even as they looked among themselves in chaotic confusion about the source of the damage. Alkor's speed had been blinding, and his hands steady. He noted that he would need to bolster his accuracy, just to ensure that he would deal damage almost every time he swung his sword.

The sword Lessa had poured herself into, and without ever knowing it, channeled another monster entirely. All three of the beasts burrowed down in the moments after they composed themselves, and Alkor shifted his gaze sideways to Lessa. "They're coming," he called sternly. "Get ready."

He was more serious, this time, and far more driven toward success. It was as if his mood had changed entirely, and for the better.

Rolled a 9 on the d10 (battle) dice. (Critical)

Rolled a 5 on the d10 (mob) dice. (Miss)

Rolled a 7 on the d12 (craft) dice.

Rolled a 9 on the d20 (loot) dice.

Alkor deals 8 Damage. (1 Base + 1 Critical + 3 Skill + 3 Nightbringer)

Alkor: 19/19

Lessa: 21/21

Antlion 1: 6/20

Antlion 2: 20/20

Antlion 3: 20/20

[Lessa 1]

At Alkor's warning, Lessa crouched into a ready position. She held her claymore before her, its faint pink glow slightly dulled by the dust that hung in the air. Alkor had performed flawlessly, and his new weapon had dealt out a massive amount of damage. The girl smiled. Nothing but the best from him. That was the way it had always been. Of course he should have the best weapon as well.

Suddenly, the ground beneath her began to shake. For a brief moment, she regretted choosing such a heavy weapon, as she could not hold out her arms to steady herself. Gaze desperately scanning the ground, she waited for the attack that she knew would soon come.

But even as prepared as she was, the sudden burst of sand only a few feet from her caught her off guard. She lunged to one side, throwing her body into the sand, and rolling a short ways before climbing back to her feet. The antlion, it seemed, had crawled back underground when its attack had missed. "You weren't kidding about them being sneaky little things," she commented, shaking some of the sand out of her hair.

{Battle: 3. Mob: 5. Loot: 20. Lessa deals no damage. Mob deals no damage.}

Alkor: 19/19

Lessa: 21/21

Antlion 1: 6/20

Antlion 2: 20/20

Antlion 3: 20/20

[Guest]

In a flash of red and black, Alkor drew a deadly lion across the first of the antlions. In its attempt to hit him, it reeled, and dropped limp to the sand. It's body gave way to a simple fountain of pixels and a material appeared in the center. Alkor accepted it with a quick tap of his HUD.

"Next," he called, smiling over at Lessa. Her confidence seemed to rise like the tide, especially in a fight like this one. It was nice to watch her, when there was nothing else to do but get lost in the moment. It made Alkor wish things were far more simple than they truly were.

He knew he couldn't keep thinking that way. As great as she looked riding on wings of victory or smiling over a warm fire, making plans for fighting bosses or bringing people together, as happy as she made those around her, Alkor was the opposite. He was just a machine in comparison. It was a sobering, humbling experience to be around her.

Of course, Alkor would never admit it. That he felt anything at all was something he rarely experienced, even in the world before this one. When Lessa shook the sand from her golden locks, Alkor caught himself watching a moment too long, then turned his gaze back to their prey.

"Three more," he said intently.

Rolled a 8 on the d10 (battle) dice.

Rolled a 1 on the d10 (mob) dice.

Rolled a 9 on the d12 (craft) dice.

Rolled a 15 on the d20 (loot) dice.

Antlion 1: Dead

Antlion 2: 20/20

Antlion 3: 20/20

Antlion 4: 20/20

Alkor gains one material

[Lessa 1]

Once she had finished running her fingers through her hair, she turned back to Alkor. Lessa knew he would already be in motion, ready to take on the next threat. He was relentless that way, never wasting a second that could be spent putting an enemy down. But when she moved her attention to him, she was startled to see that he had already completed his attack. He was watching her with an unreadable expression on her face. She caught his gaze and gave him a broad smile.

 

This is nice, Lessa thought to herself. Her smile did not waver as she threw herself into the frenzy. Her gaze was on the next antlion, but her mind was still occupied by the amber-eyed swordsman that stood in wait behind her. As she brought her blade up, she thought of the way he reacted to Nightbringer. All she had wanted to do was make him happy, and she had succeeded. Once, he had said all that mattered was keeping her safe. Whether he still felt that way now remained to be seen. But she found that all that mattered to her was his emotional state. Even if he would not let his walls down, even if he refused to show his emotions, she knew he experienced them; he had made that clear that night on the forth floor. Maybe he was her purpose, just as she had once been his.

 

With thoughts of Alkor, Lessa let her blade fall.

 

{Lessa deals 6 damage - base, +2 Hell Rose, +3 two-handed skill.}

 

• Rolled a 6 on the d10 (battle) dice.
• Rolled a 6 on the d10 (mob) dice.
• Rolled a 2 on the d12 (craft) dice.
• Rolled a 4 on the d20 (loot) dice.

Antlion 1: Dead
Antlion 2: 14/20
Antlion 3: 20/20
Antlion 4: 20/20

[Lessa 1]

Thread Complete

Lessa gains 1 SP,  400 col, and 2 T1 mats.

Alkor gets nothing because he dead.