ERode

Lostman Grafitti

Northwestern District

“The cops,” Kouta echoed, tapping his feet against the linoleum floor. He grimaced, furrowed his brow, and let out a sigh. Shook his head, slowly. “You know how it is, Mana. Maybe if we were rich or something but…school girls go missing and no one bats an eye.”

Most of the time it was nothing. A shelter, a government program, family outside of Tenoroshi, or simply wanting a new life. But there were always cracks, and it was always hard to confirm. He jammed his own hands into his pockets, feeling the silent phone pressed against his thigh. There was a furtive glance towards the manager of the convenience store, before Kouta shook his head again.

“Checked all the places I thought she’d be,” Kouta waved helplessly, “And that’s including her parents’ home. But they didn’t know either. They didn’t care either.” Frustration leaked into his tone, the muscles in his shoulder tensing up again, collarbone sticking out against taut flesh. “Just...was hoping that she might have said something to you, or, I don’t know, god.”

But it was clear that Hanami hadn’t met Mana at all, not in recent memory.

He breathed out deep, stepping back. “But thanks. It means a lot to me, Mana. You have my number, yeah?”

Central District

“Ah,” came a calm voice, “Apologies for the inconvenience, Sou-san. We’ve received a report about the sixth floor a couple minutes back, and decided to lockdown all other floors as a precaution. Don’t worry, the keypad isn’t broken.”

There was a break, as muffled voices sounded in the background, a hand obviously placed over the receiver. Even through it, however, the (former) idol could faintly make out words such as ‘fire’ and ‘break in’ or, at least, what sounded like such words. Soon enough, the man behind the phone continued to speak.

“We’re investigating the report right now, but if you have somewhere you need to be immediately, I can arrange for an escort to bring you down to the ground level. Would you like that, Sou-san?”

Southern District

“Mmm, gotta stay flexible, neh? Go with the f-”

Yasuo blinked as a familiar, nameless face approached out of the blue, his cheeks already flushed from the alcohol, his eyes a bit woozy. Tilting his head to the side, he tried for another three sick af pen spins, but ended up fumbling and dropping the pen instead. He pitched forward, picked it up, marked off another number in his own puzzle book and, after shooting a glance towards Marina, smiled towards Tsurushi.

“Minami,” he said, offering a handshake, “Minami Yasuo. You live round here, taser lady?”

He looked again at Marina, as if willing her to chill. “Ah, and don’t mind my friend too much. She’s just surly in the mornings.”

---

Swift like a shadow, the blond urban explorer rushed towards the door, securing it with nothing more than the momentary pain of a heavy door falling against his foot. From there, what Marc heard from the Whispers Through The Gaps were...

_{"Everything looking good?"
"Hell naw, everyone else is still running around headless."
"Hey, c'mon, didn't I always tell you? You'd be so much better if you just got your shit together."
"But my shit ain't together, so ey, I'll just stick around here doing what I do."
"My offer's still available, Nori."}

_{"And like always, thanks, but, y'know. I separate fun from work."
"Ever thought of trying to be a Virtual Youtuber?"
"Uwah, how the heck didja stumble upon that?"
"New girl in the agency's got her start from there. Not gonna name names, but..."
"Wow, absolutely awful."}

_{"Think of the ad revenue though!"
"C'mon Daehyun, I ain't about that shit."
"I know, I know...but I still am."
"Really? Thought you were more of the beer and peace sorta person."
"Well, those come hand to hand."
"Sure sure, just rich boi hijinks, eh? Anyways, 'bout that thing you wanted..."
"Oh, let's see i-"}

Click.

A door closed shut within the building, and the rest of the conversation was silenced behind soundproof walls, leaning Marc alone in the back of the building once more, feeling oddly vulnerable, simply laying his head against the door without leaving or entering. It was quite a bit nervewracking, being so exposed. If someone of any repute walked by and saw this, what exactly would they make of it?

Altera: Of Departures and Deliverance

It was akin to a thunderclap, a thunderclap for each drop of rain that fell.

The rage intoxicated, the fury fuelled, and against raw might that turned the very weapon in her hands into scrap metal, the mountain of ice that the undead mage had created could not hold. But that was all. That was it. Ettamri’s violent onslaught could destroy and break all that the undead mage had called forth, but broken steel could not sunder the intangible spirits, and raw power could not end the curse of undeath. There was no end. Ettamri could smash through the ice and the earth, could pulverize the skeletal structure of the bisected mage, could do all that she wanted as her blood ate away her mind, but the magic never ended.

A large chunk of ice flew up, smashing into the side of Ettamri’s fallen steed, ribs snapping under its weight and puncturing the organs beneath.

A forceful blow broke Gwyn and Matteo’s bodies out of their icy prison, their bodies blue and black, frost still eating into them.

An echoing strike finally shattered her greatsword into bits, leaving nothing but a mangled crossguard and a broken blade.

But still, bolts of ice shot up at her, the mage’s spellcraft advancing and receding in waves. And to challenge it, Ettamri continued to answer in kind, breaking and smashing and raging and fighting, incapable of understanding that she could end this without the blessing of the God of Light.

It was meaningless, in the end. Nothing but the tantrum of a child. Perhaps even more meaningless than continuing a fight when the battle had already been decided.

Muu continued to clash blades with the undead warrior before her, so focused on her task that she had isolated herself from the rest of the world. In a battle that had not yet been concluded, it was a vulnerability that could easily end with a knife in her kidneys, a spear through her side, an arrow in her head, but the world responded to her stubborn desire to prove herself and granted her an opponent that persisted in hacking at her just as stubbornly. Rain and debris fell down upon both of them, Ettamri’s onslaught seeing no end against a deathless foe, but she was blind to it. Matteo and Gwyn have fallen, but she was blind to it. The ground beneath her feet, coated once in ice, had now fractured, and yet that too, she was blind to.

All that mattered was breaking the wrist. All that mattered was making those hairline fractures grow and grow with each blow, the nicked, dulled edge of her short sword getting closer and closer with each strike.

And then, there was the break.

The wrists of the axe-wielder finally broke as Muu parried a powerful chop, the axe flying up. She followed its arc in the air, her dark eyes widening.

There was a flash, and there was a boom.

Lightning had struck the axe, an impact so fierce that it sent her flying back, the afterimage seared into her eyeballs as her ears rang horribly. Nauseating. The heat, the noise, the impact, it had all been nauseating. The rain felt gross. No, that wasn’t rain, it was her own sweat. She could taste the salt of her body, could feel, suddenly, just how fatiguing it was on her own body to continuously strike at hard objects. The shock had returned onto her own arms, and now, they trembled violently. Off in the distance, the skeleton she had been fighting was also blown away, ankles shattered and wrists hacked off.

She had won. Did that count as a victory? She won.

The world widened around her.

And now, now, Muu could see the full extent of what had happened.

Everything had happened.

✤ Delve ✤

_{Evening///Little Valhalla}

---

The content was as dry as crappy crackers, but sometimes, that flavor was novel all by itself when spoken by an excitable, but cute girl. When she got going like this, Dahlia reminded Varanense way too much of a young child who was eager to show off what they learned, and it was certainly quite charming. It also made the ranger wonder if he was growing old now, having such thoughts. That was a bit troubling. He sat himself down as she motormouthed away, propping his head up with his arm while listening to as much of it as he could. Nemesis getting involved in god politics was certainly a weird one, while the question about potential…Varanense certainly wasn’t aware of any insanely unique skill he had that let him level up at astounding rates.

Curious stuff. He glanced at cat-girl, Kori, if he recalled correctly. Definitely looked like she wasn’t impressed by skull-face’s casual moves. Was he from the country? Couldn’t have been the first time he’s seen a beastman, could it? Well, at least he won’t be throwing up on his shoes anytime soon. Long-arms though, what a shame. A hero that can’t hold a drink is only acceptable when you’re a cute-as-a-button fourteen year old brave. As a precaution, Varanense scooted himself away from him, right as Odin silenced Dahlia’s background noise with his own arrival, throwing in more words before zipping off afterwards.

Don’t worry about the price of anything, huh…

Well, what’s free was usually the most expensive, and Varanense still couldn’t wrap his head around why anyone here would have been selected. Was this just Odin subtly hitting on their goddesses? Weird stuff. He probably shouldn’t read too deeply into it. Leaning back in his chair, the dark-skinned youth directed his gaze towards Dahlia again, a lop-sided grin surfacing. “So, that’s Odin, huh? What’s even the discount for? Thought it was standard for the parents to give things to their children, free of charge?”

✤ Delve ✤

_{Morning///A Certain Third-Story Flat}

---

Daylight had yet to break through the thin curtains of the room, but Varanense was already awake. Free as he may have been, the adventurer was still a slave to habit, and no matter how late he stayed up the night before, it was always like this: waking up an hour before sunrise, Nemesis cuddled up against him. Never for pleasure, but always for warmth. He smiled sleepily, brushing a silver strand out of her eyes, before pulling himself away. Definitely needed to save for another bed to toss her in. Preferably with super thick blankets too. It was novel before, always waking up in the morning with naked goddess snuggled up against him, but now, he was realizing that it meant waking up to the smell of alcohol and vomit as well.

Anyways, by principle, Varanense had no indecent feelings towards the Goddess of Vengeance and Hard Party. Those sorts of romances never went well, after all. Especially if she continued to think of him as her child.

Shaking off his early morning thoughts, the dark-skinned adventurer quickly began preparing for the rest of the day. The windows of the third-story flat were swung open dramatically to let in fresh air, while the embers of the hearth were stoked, firewood tossed in to start cooking. As a pot of water heated up, Varanense began dressing up as well, pulling over hardy fabrics and hardened leathers, counting his bolts and testing his strings. With the pommel of his sword, he ground up rice in a bowl, and with the edge of his sword, he chopped up what remained of last night’s chicken. Tossing both into the pot, he let it simmer as he turned to his little herb garden by the windowsill, uprooting a couple of chives to add some color to his breakfast porridge.

One pot meals were a favorite of his, after all. If only the textures of roasted meats and fried noodles weren’t so incredible, Varanense would be eating soups and stews every day of the week. He hummed to himself as the clay pot simmered, a homely aroma supplanting the ever-present stench of alcohol. Then, as if suddenly bored of lying about, he hopped up onto his feet again, blue eyes catching the first rays of the day, reflected off the discarded bottles of wine flung with impunity around the flat. Those went into empty crates for storage and disposal, clinking like poorly made chimes. Some sweeping was done as well, as futile as it was, for garbage-infested was the natural state of Nemesis Familia’s headquarters. It’d be nice if they had a servant or something. Shame that the red-headed not-Giant didn’t stick around for long. He was alright. Took the aggro away from Varanense when Nemesis was feeling competitive about her alcoholism.

Dragging over a stool, he sat down by the pot again, stirring the rice gruel before spooning it up. Blew a couple of times to cool it down. Breathed deeply to enjoy it with his rarer senses. And then…

A soft warmth pressed against his back, two pale, slender arms crossing over his chest as silky hair slid against his neck. That intoxicating fragrance seeped into his mind again, and hot breath rushed against his ear, a familiar weight resting upon his shoulder. A rueful sigh, and Varanense began shovelling his breakfast into her mouth.

“Y’know, you could just feed yourself,” he remarked, starting the same conversation as always.

Nemesis half-laughed. “Don’t wanna~ Where you going, Variii?”

“Got a date with a thicc Amazon girl,” was his response as he chanced a bite of the gruel.

But Nemesis was too sharp, even as sleepy as she was. She headbutted him out of the way and took the spoonful for herself, a smug grin surfacing. “Liarrrr~”

“Says who?” Varanense stretched forwards, grabbing another spoon.

“Says me. Can always smell a cheat.” To make a point, she sniffed deeply, then made a ‘bleh’ noise. “And they always smell bad.”

“That’s just you you’re smelling,” the adventurer chuckled, reclining against the goddess.

For his sacrilege, the silver-haired goddess rapped his head. “That weretiger said I smelled good.”

“He said that to the farmer girl too. Suspect he doesn’t have a sense of smell.”

That got a full-bellied laugh from Nemesis as she stood up unsteadily, licking the remains of the gruel from her lips.

“Headed somewhere?” Varanense called between mouthfuls of chicken-flavored porridge.

She turned to him with a mischievious glint in her eyes, at once deity and drunkard. “Got a date with a God of Hammers.”

He grinned, waving her off. “Liarrr.”

_{Evening///Little Valhalla}

---

He had been free to dress as he wished, so Varanense dressed as he always did, armored up and armed up, nothing polished for impressing anyone. His bandana was yellowed with sweat, his cloak was perpetually afflicted with the smell of spilt wine, and his eyes were as indolently half-closed as always. Sauntering in a good ten minutes late, he nodded once at the doorwoman, who must have been melting in such clothing, and didn’t bother to take in his surroundings at all. Little Valhalla was basically just as Nemesis had described, after all. Good drink, good meat, and tasteless décor. Who the hell wanted to eat in a hall filled with statues in the likeness of monsters? Perverts, that’s who.

The members were all cute though. Odin’s Valkyries had been as attractive as expected of such a lustful, shallow god, and the high-level adventurers in tavern were equally good looking, from handsome studs to adorable prums to big-bootied Amazons to lithe elves. He took it all in, and continued on, unaffected, irreverent. Smiled and winked once or twice, maybe, at the ones that cheered, but otherwise strode up towards the small mass of fresh-faced adventurers that looked wholly out of place. Like, wow, were they dressing up for an interview? His eyes briefly lingered on the fine shoulder blades of the cat person, then on the freakish anatomy of the flushed human (?), before finally widening slightly at the grimdark appearance of the shadow-man. Certainly a wild cast.

He let out a low whistle.

“Hey Dahlia,” Varanense said, steady as always, “Looked like you were talking about a buncha stuff there. Mind repeating it?”

The Rise of Azure [18+]

_{Kina City///Dark District}

---

No pupils?

Io reanalyzed their structure, referenced human beings in the immediate vicinity, and closed their eyes. It took only a moment to correct their mistake, and when they opened their eyes once more, there were pupils. Pupils that didn’t truly let light in, pupils that did not dilate or contract in response to levels of light, but pupils none the less. They stared at the male with those pupiled eyes, before continuing to walk, recording all that he said not out of obligation or importance, but simply for posterity. There was a ‘war’. Not all were war-mongerers, but from previous experience, the majority were. What was important, then, was to establish why this war persisted, and why this war had yet to truly erupt, even after decades of transgressions.

And though the myth behind the start of the way may be nothing more than a romantic lie, Io still could not reconcile it: what power laid in the heart of a beastkin? Things to consider, things to research. Certainly, the automations they had spotted in Kina City earlier that day weren’t powered by anything as fanciful and illogical as the heart of another creature. Perhaps Io will have to find themselves a beastkin heart after all.

Perhaps.

A brass flicker, and Io turned around, observing the clockwork bird that had come to deliver a message. Inefficient design, but the aesthetics of humanity scoffed at efficiency. Adjusting their vision was enough to read the held-up scroll, everything reconstructed into their mind as details were highlighted for ease of access later on. A call to serve as an ambassador by Lieutenant Florence, addressed towards Lientenant Marius. Trade relations with Lady Amira of Mizu Port then? Or b- Io cut off their hypotheses and stopped. It didn’t matter. This individual was of greater importance than expected, and thus, this was certainly an advantageous encounter. Access to the Light District would be difficult otherwise, and opportunities were countless in delving within the Dusk District.

Rationality overrode directives, as long as the benefits outweighed the cost of disloyalty.

“No,” Io said, stopping in place. “Your directives are more important. Complete them before reengaging, Marius. Until you have satisfactorily resolved your duties, I shall follow.”

A pause.

"Go save their butt."

Talrae Reborn

Cecilia Tonitrus

Cecilia Tonitrus

_{Female | 17 y/o | Human}

"Lycanbane"

_{User gains increased damage against lycan-related units and gains the following Action: Feral Experience. Additionally, User gains increased intimidation against hostile units and favorable charisma for friendly NPCs.}

Appearance

Slender with an ample bosom, Cecilia stands proudly at 5’10, her very countenance exuding the sense of someone who’s accustomed to being noticed. Her pearly complexion and vibrant amber eyes can frame her appearance as either cute or mature depending on her expression, and her hair, a pale lilac that turns silver in the right lighting, is left long enough to trail down to her waist. If Talrae was still a game, such a vibrant appearance could perhaps be overlooked, but now that they’ve fallen into a virtual reality composed largely of men who could afford the absolutely stupid price that the Talrae pre-orders went for, Cecilia’s appearance really draws more attention than she wished it did.

Background

Claire Silverstein was born into privilege as the daughter of the CEO of a pharmaceutical company with ties all over Europe. As far as the opportunities available to her were, she was largely free to make any of her desires manifest. Her parents spoiled her, after all, and while her childhood was spent in the olden countryside, where she could turn her fantasies of being a princess into reality, Claire quickly learned that if ‘objects’ could be obtained whenever she wanted, then the only thing that was valuable in the world were ‘skills’. At first, she learned ballet and piano and painting, skills to fuel her elementary school fantasies. Then she really got into dystopian YA novels and picked up a bunch of martial arts, while her parents found her a personal trainer who knew how to handle younger people. Junior high pulled her into the world of competitive team sports for a short stint, before the majority of her friends drifted into more artsy stuff instead, Claire following them into the glitz and glamor of the drama club. A ‘She Slays Dragons’ production later, and the young girl was hooked on musicals. It was as if everything was lining up for her, from her childish fantasies of being a princess to her late-elementary years of being enamored with badass choreography to her core desire for something beautiful, something tragic.

Her mother introduced a couple of her showbiz friends to her, and it was with their tales of the glittering stars of Broadway that convinced Claire she simply had to move to America. And of course, who were her parents to simply deny such a request? A few days of paperwork and a farewell party later, and she flew off to a private school in North America with a prestigious arts program, ready to stretch her wings for the next three years and see how far she could fly.

It turned out, she could only fly as far as she worked to. A half-hearted interest wasn’t enough. A half-baked passion wasn’t enough. So many things weren’t enough, and her passion began to burn like an obsession, Claire turning to as many outlets as possible for practice, some of them more ridiculous than the others. She was in her school’s drama program, got into a neighboring university’s Arthurian Society to try out medieval re-enactment, busked outside subways as a cover artist, joined a group of girls in her school in the creation of short films on a Youtube channel, made her own channel where she used the new Virtual Youtuber fad to create an excess of ten different personas, and did the same sort of acting in survival simulation games. Claire’s constant theatrics became her eccentricities, and she wore masks as easily as other girls her age switched to new outfits.

Somewhere along the way, her online circle of friends surpassed the amount of people she knew in real life, and when one group had managed to all snag a copy of the world’s first VRMMO, Claire hit them up, deciding to up her fantastical, dramatic shenanigans even further. Her school was setting up a modern dramatic production, after all, so some high-fantasy thing would be a good way of making sure there was some balance in her life. It didn’t take too long to convince her father to purchase one of the scalped pre-orders on E-bay for an exorbitant (but still insignificant) price, and on the launch day, the wannabe-actress found herself amazed at the virtualized fantasy before her.

Until the sky turned red and those bastards locked her in there.

Then she found herself worked up into a homicidal rage instead.

She didn’t have time to waste here, not while her body wasted in reality.

Character Status

Level: 15
Renn: 970
Experience: 12916/29193

Class: Lancer
Subclass: None

Attributes
Health: 29 [2900]
Mana: 33 [3300]
Strength: 30 (+5 Power Treads)
Agility: 85 (+5 Cutthroat Gloves) (+5 Skirmisher's Bucklers)
Intelligence: 0
Stamina: 10

Skills
Polearm Wielding 70
Acting 22
Beautifying 20
Light Step 20
Sewing 44

Spells

Radiate (7) [AC:3][CD:60s] _{User's body glows with bright light, hindering the visions of all opponents. 200MP.}
Light-speed Escape (8) [Passive] _{User's body automatically moves a medium distance away at the speed of light when they fall below 10% of maximum HP.}
Redeeming Glow (14) [AC:4][CD:60s] _{User glows in soft light for a few moments, restoring 500MP. 100MP.}

Actions

Feral Experience (X/Title) [Passive] _{If User is to gain experience in Wild Areas, User receives increased bonus experience.}

Sprint (1/Universal) [AC:1][CD:120s] _{User's running speed increases by a bit for a minute. 50MP.}
Charge (1/Universal) [AC:1][CD:10s] _{User charges shoulder-first, briefly stunning the first target hit. If the user is equipped with a shield, it deals low concussive damage in addition. 50MP.}
Sidestep (1/Universal) [AC:1][CD:10s] _{User steps aside. +5% chance of evasion. 20MP.}
Accelerate (5/Universal) [AC:2][CD:120s] _{User's movement speed increases for a minute. 200MP.}
Relentless (5/Universal) [AC:1][CD:30s] _{User removes 1 weak status effect on themselves. 200MP.}
Strong Body (5/Universal) [AC:3][CD:1 Day] _{User gains +10 Strength for a while. 200MP.}
Evade Missile (5/Universal) [AC:3][CD:30s] _{User evades incoming ranged attack. +20% Evasion (Projectile) chance. 100MP.}
Greater Accelerate (10/Universal) [AC:3][CD:180s] _{User's movement speed greatly increases for a bit. 300MP.}
Greater Dash (10/Universal) [AC:2][CD:60s] _{User dashes to a close location incredibly quickly. +20% chance of Evasion. 150MP.}
Trip (15/Universal) [Passive] _{Upon successfully avoiding an enemy's melee attack, the user automatically uses their weapon to trip the opponent knocking them prone.}
Blood Thirst (15/Universal) [Passive] _{User gains 10% of their damage as HP. Does not work with Actions and Spells.}

Bounty (1/Universal) [Passive] _{User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM.}
Greater Bounty (5/Universal) [Passive] _{User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Stacks with Bounty.}
Grand Bounty (10/Universal) [Passive] _{User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Stacks with Bounty and Greater Bounty.}
Ultimate Bounty (15/Universal) [Passive] _{User gains D10 extra Renn whenever they receive Renn from GM. Stacks with Bounty and Greater Bounty.}

Cleave (1/Lancer) [AC:1][CD:15s] _{User slashes out in a cone, dealing low bladed damage to nearby units. 50MP.}
Pole Spin (1/Lancer) [AC:1][CD:30s] _{User spins their polearm, blocking 1 projectile attack with 50% chance. 50MP.}
Iron Pull (1/Lancer) [AC:1][CD:15s] _{User pierces target and pulls it in closer, dealing moderate piercing damage. 100MP.}
Flexible (1/Lancer) [Passive] _{Whenever user successfully Evades a melee attack against the user, user may immediately move backwards or counterattack to deal low piercing damage.}
Pole Jump (1/Lancer) [AC:1][CD:30s] _{User uses their polearm to lift themselves off of the ground and jump forward. +5% Evasion chance and moves forward. 50MP.}
Devastating Charge (5/Lancer) [AC:3][CD:60s] _{User charges forward, ignoring all movement impairing effects. Deals heavy piercing damage to a target. 200MP.}
Piercing Lift (5/Lancer) [AC:2][CD:30s] _{User pierces target and lifts it up, dealing moderate piercing damage and disabling it. 100MP.}
Heavenly Talon Strike (5/Lancer) [AC:2][CD:30s] _{User jabs 3 times very quickly, dealing low piercing damage the first 2 times and launching the target into the air with the third strike, disabling it for a bit. 200MP.}
Strong-Arm Push (5/Lancer) [AC: 1][CD: 60s] _{User pushes a target away using the leverage of their polearm, creating large distance. 100MP.}
Practiced Steps (5/Lancer) [Passive] _{User gains +15% Evasion chance if an opponent has a short-range melee weapon.}
Piercing Strike (10/Lancer) [AC:4][CD:60s] _{User pierces a single target firmly, dealing heavy piercing damage and stunning it. 200MP.}
Shield-Breaker Jab (10/Lancer) [AC:2][CD:180s] _{User jabs out strongly, aiming for an equipped item. A defensive item equipped to target has a chance of breaking. 200MP.}
Polearm Mastery (10/Lancer) [Passive] _{User's normal attacks deal 5% additional damage.}
Counter Swing (15/Lancer) [AC:0][CD:60s] _{User parries target melee attack and immediately deals low bladed damage back. Target gains 50% reduced healing. 100MP.}
Falling Comet (15/Lancer) [AC:4][CD:120s] _{User jumps into the air, going forward with their polearm pointing downwards. When User lands, all Units nearby are dealt heavy concussive damage and are knocked back. 400MP.}

Items

Equipment
Steel Spear (Mythic) _{Electricity Affinity, +7% Damage}
Cutthroat Gloves (Uncommon) _{+5 AGI}
Light’s Bane Cloak (Uncommon) _{+5 Hide}
Leather Armor (Uncommon) _{7U/9P/11B/5C/10M, 5% AGI penalty}
Fancy Clothes (Uncommon) _10P
Skirmisher’s Buckler (Uncommon) _{4U/6P, +5 AGI}
Power Treads (Uncommon) _{+5 STR}
Ring of Protection (Uncommon) _{+1% Defense to all equips}
Teleport Ring (Common) _{Teleport small distance, once per day.}
Jewelry x2 (Common)

Lagley’s Spear (Uncommon) _{Large, 5% Crit Chance}
Boots of Travel (Uncommon) _{2x Walking Speed}
Raincoat (Common) _{Soaked Debuff reduced}
4x Java Jungle Wear (Common) _{Severe Heat Debuff reduced}

Adventuring Gear
Tent (Uncommon)
Sleeping Bag (Uncommon)
Backpack (Common)
Sewing Kit (Uncommon)
Waterskin (Common)
Rope (Uncommon)
Flintstone (Common)
Charcoal (Common)
First Aid (Common)
Pots and Pans (Common)
Hatchet (Common)
Shovel (Common)
Small Knife (Common)

Consumables
Observer Wardx1_{When placed, allows User to telepathically see the area. Lasts 1 hour.}
Red Potionx0_{Replenishes 20% of maximum HP.}
Blue Potionx0_{Replenishes 20% of maximum MP.}
Diluted Strength Potionx4_{Gives 5% Strength for 1 day. Overwrites other potion effects.}
Diluted Agility Potionx3_{Gives 5% Agility for 1 day. Overwrites other potion effects.}

Food
Fruit Preservex5
Dried Biscuitx5
Nuts and Seeds x5
Dried Fruitx5
Salted Fishx5
Milkx5
Waterx10

Materials
Wolf Pelt (Rare) x4
Crystal (Rare) x6
Bone (Common) x17
Bone (Uncommon) x1
Chitter Meat (Common) x22
Baby Blue Bell (Common) x6
Baby Blue Bell (Uncommon) x1
Baby Blue Pollen (Common) x3

Altera: Of Departures and Deliverance

As the axe-wielding undead clambered back up again, Muu too was prepared for battle. Her ribs ached, fractured as they were, but it was a pain that was incomparably less compared to having her face melted off. It was something she could fight through, something she could ignore, as the adrenaline, sparked first by fear and then by motion, dulled her agony and brought her up as well.

And thus, their dance began.

The axe was not slow when it gained momentum and continuous swings chained into each other, but Muu, despite being inexperienced, was still skillful, still strong. The footwork learned upon fighting on high rooftops could be applied upon a frozen battlefield as well, and once she grew accustomed to the slight slip that accompanied each step, her movements became so much more optimized, darting in and out, each axe strike countered with a quick blow. But her opponent was armored and could not bleed, and the terrain meant that it was impossible to make any sort of strike that used the entirety of her body. An unstable terrain meant one would have to focus on light attacks, wearing their opponent down.

That was what her Master had taught her. But that meant, against a fatigueless, bloodless foe, this battle would be a long one. A long duel, when they had already took so long.

Ettamri charged, a thunderous roar rattling through her horned helmet. Ash and Gwyn rushed in as well, a pilfered sword raised and a chanted prayer prepared. With a sickening crunch, the white-plated warrior split her foe into two, the raised staff sundered alongside the skull.

But there was a reason why the King of Corpses was so feared.

Magic was of the will. For those cursed with undeath, their will persisted no matter how shattered they were. Back when the King of Corpses still reigned, nothing was more frightening than ‘hidden mages’, undead casters ground to dust and spread across the battlefield to cast with impunity. Their will alone was sufficient to summon forth walls of flame and stakes of ice, bolts of lightning and blasts of wind. And in this case, while Ettamri was fast enough to close in…Gwyn wasn’t.

A party with a mage in it always centered around the mage. No matter how skilled, how strong the others were, none could match the sheer power that one attuned with the spirits could unleash.

Split in half, the undead mage profaned the purity of the spirits and forced them to do her bidding once more, and in that moment, the world turned white.

In that moment, the prayer on Gwyn’s lips became a Ward.

In that moment, Matteo burst out from the foliage.

In that moment…

Icy tendrils burst outwards. They shattered against a translucent veil, Ash given just enough time to scamper back, but Gwyn, selfless and self-sacrificing, was caught fully by the tendrils. They wrapped around her and expanded, and then trapped her completely, freezing her in place. In that frenetic moment, the person that Matteo shoulder-tackled had been Ettamri instead. There was a distinctive ‘click’ as his right shoulder dislocated, but his technique was there, his own masculine frame was there. He stumbled, faltered, and was caught as well, sheer, translucent ice capturing his last expression: doubt, pain, and self-hatred. Even that, however, did not save Ettamri completely.

Her leg had been caught in that icy mass, and now, more ice was racing up her leg. In seconds she would be waist-deep in it.
But she wasn’t frozen over yet.

She wasn’t done yet.

✤ Delve ✤

How does it feel, Burger, to have people auto-mode and not actually read the bold text? ;3

Lostman Grafitti

@banjoanjo This is a good chance to do a quick phone collab, so feel free to hit me up whenever.

@OwO@AdmrlStalfos19 Wild encounter in the Southern District oh no!

@Savo You can choose to pursue this, or go scamper off elsewhere. In terms of the timeline, Marc woulda passed Marina and Yasuo by a couple minutes ago.

@Asuras Feel free to make up names that Mana knows.

Lostman Grafitti

Northwestern District

Blinking, the former delinquent realized how much trouble he was causing and retracted a bit, his hands getting off the counter and sliding into his pockets once more. Mana was right, and he couldn’t even really fault her for her response. With a sigh a mixture of frustrated and fatigued, Kouta slid away, running his hand through his hair. No longer so animated, Mana could clearly see how off-color her friend was. Dark circles ringed his eyes, while stubble lined his jaw. As wild and ruggedly handsome his hair looked currently, it was a far cry from the usually elegantly coiffed locks that he preferred.

He swallowed deeply, then grabbed a pack of gum from the counter for Mana to ring up. “It’s not that,” Kouta said, straining to quiet down his voice, “I haven’t seen her for the last couple of days now, and none of the others know what’s up with her. Just like...shit!”

The delinquent kicked at nothing, grimacing.

“None of her old haunts, and her phone’s flat out out of service too,” he spat. “Look, don’t you know anyone that could help? I’m just, like...we’ve had our spats before, but this time it’s weird, y’know?”

A cough sounded behind Mana, and she felt a light touch behind her back. Asahi offered her a slight smile as he took over the cashier beside her, waving over customers who weren’t totally certain if they should approach the line that had a delinquent-type harassing a sallow-skinned cashier.

Central District

Three rings sounded before Hyejin picked up. In the background, Miyane could hear the shuttering of cameras and the meaningless praise of a photographer, but whatever that meant was irrelevant to the current situation. Her manager answered enthusiastically.

“<<Morning, Miya-ssi! Slept well? Are Miori-ssi and her kids over yet?>>”

Southern District

“Wowow,” Yasuo laughed, “Bit too old for reminiscing about the good ol’ days, but hell, why not. Gotta start early to prep for our retirement homes, eh?”

With that, he plopped himself over onto a shit-stained bench, a foot resting on his knee as he popped his own book open. Three sick af pen spins later, and he was off as well, occasionally taking the bottle of non-Russian vodka from Marina to take a swig. Sudoku was an old hobby, no longer relevant to the skater boy now, but his friend’s competitive (and cheating) nature made him play along anyways.

Between page-flips and fervent number-crossing, Yasuo asked, “Anyways, the plan here?”

---

Sometimes, there were simply days like these, where nothing interesting happened. Tenoroshi was, for all of its mysteries, still a relatively safe town, after all. A police box on every street corner was the Japanese standard, and urban legends never became mainstays in public consciousness anyways. Unless they were turned into memes, most simply disappeared after a week or two. The Whispers in the Walls was just a matter of thin walls. The Steel Girder Lady was just a LARPer. Mearii-san was just a chain e-mail scheme.

Reality was far less romantic, and it was only faith in the impossible that made them interesting. On such a lazy Sunday, even Southern Tenoroshi was looking relatively toothless. No biker gangs roared down streets, no punks picked fights. Two delinquent types drank from a covered bottle while doing sudoku puzzles, as if they could cancel out the brain cells lost from drinking hard alcohol by playing brain games. Some distance away, a man stepped out of an unmarked car and headed to the back of the building.

Wait, Marc recognized this person.

Even with a cough mask and shades on, the silhouette Kang Daehyon, lead dancer of the Luxury Boys, star of Father Crime, and the latest foreign hearthrob amongst Japanese school girls, cut was unmistakable. With his bold eyebrows and his auburn hair, he made a statement simply by existing in one’s general field-of-vision, and moments later, the backdoor to the building he entered opened up, a younger man with pierced ears and monochromatic hair waving at the star. They exchanged words, before the two headed inside.

Curious, at least. But on the other hand, Marc wasn’t a gossip...was he?

---

Sunday being Sunday, it didn’t come as a surprise that there were even more truant punks hanging around the park, doing punkish things like skateboard, listen to American rapper xxxtentacion, and tag concrete structures with spray paint. Tsurushi had more than a couple of cat calls coming her way, her green hair and buxom form attracting the leers many a horny teen, but it was still noon time, and there were way too many people around the park. If one made a move, others would too, and then everyone would be cockblocking each other in the saddest sausage party ever.

So with that blessing, Tsurushi made it past North Tenoroshi Park just fine, her eyes safe to wander across the many buildings in the area. It was a bit weird that anyone would want to have an office in this particular district of the coastal city, but the rent was cheap here, and consequently, the price of a session was cheap as well. Perhaps Hitsu was a bit of a bleeding heart? Being a therapist was only a couple steps away from being a social worker, after all.

Following Google Maps religiously served her well, and soon enough, Tsurushi arrived at her destination, a sorta-sketchy office building that definitely looked like it had seen better days. There was a CGA advertising their services through their second-floor windows in bold, English words, while the first floor had what looked almost assuredly like a yakuza front. It was only on the third floor, then, that Hitsu Anenokoji’s office could be seen, a poster plastered by the window with ‘Anenokoji Counseling: Drop-In Sessions OK’ in bold print. That was good. Tsurushi found it easily enough.

What was less good were the two squatting right outside the building, sitting on a park bench. A buncha kids drinking vodka and scribbling on sudoku books was already an unusual combination, but for this particular person to be that weird guy who was creeping around Tamiko? And with the person beside him being a woman who was one tattoo short of being a violent criminal?

Definitely worth a double take.