A Hot Steamy Date [Combat/Invite]

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

“Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!”


Aila wadded through the swamp, one hand holding her precious starter wand and the other pinching her nose. Her cloth robe armor thing trailed in the dirt, gathering water and soil at an unnerving rate. A deviant, trash-like smell spread through the area and dirty, disgusting water lined her feet. Annoying and possibly dangerous pests ran through the muddy earth, occasionally brushing against Aila’s feet to give her the scare of a lifetime (Except that she was receiving them consistently). Each step was a desperate attempt to soak in as little sludge as possible, an endeavor to remain clean, warm, and dry. She failed almost every single time.


It would be a good question to ask why a prim and proper girl, such as Aila, was ankle deep in sludge, and anyone that asked deserved a cookie. Certainly, Aila would gladly bake him one if it meant getting her out of the stinky marsh. However, sadly, such an option was not likely as Aila had a mission to fulfill, though every other alternative seemed enjoyable at this rate. After her dangerous encounter at the Savill Flower Grove and still in need of experience and gold, Aila wanted a new zone to farm in. But who was it that suggested this wretched swamp? That’s right, it was that blasted bartender and his persuasive words. Good environment for casual, solo farming, her ass. After she was done here, she’d give him a piece of her mind… right after a cup of his fantastic tea, of course.


“Now then, time to start.”


She had finally drudged her way towards the optimal position that the brewer had indicated. Probably from listening to client adventurers, the shopkeep certainly was helpful in providing good information on where good hunting spots would be for different levels. Still, the stink was more than enough to make her forget how helpful the man was.


Wand in hand, the Druid began to look around for suitable monsters. From her information, the monsters in the area were mostly docile. Thus, she could be assured of moderate safety and have the initiative in a fight. Still, it would take precaution and careful planning to effectively farm, especially since she was alone this time. Last time, she had coincidentally run into Galen and Nanako (who came with more baggage than she lifted), but she was going solo today. Unless she ran into another helpful stranger, she’d be well on her way to lone-wolf girl.

---

Notes: Firabar
WC:417


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

"Oh, sweetheart." Firabar the Guardian said, striding out from behind a tree, blood coating his sword, and flecking his face. He'd been busy for a while now. "Please tell me you're not planning to solo this."

He proceeded to kneel down on one of the great, thick, gnarled roots sticking out of the water, and wipe his sword off. The blood left a thin sheen of pink on the metal as he flicked it into the marsh, back to where he'd left the owners of that particular bodily fluid.

"Because - and let me tell you this as someone who'd been playing for bloody yonks before I got stuck in here in this... inadequate body - that's a damn bad idea, for a lady of your particularly healerly persuasion." He strung the words together eloquently, a fierce look about him as he stood back up.

"For one thing, you run the risk of being overwhelmed by mobs - druids aren't known for their DPS, I'm afraid."

His eyes grew concerned, though, as he stepped a little closer, and gave a brief survey of the surroundings.

"And for another thing, you run the risk of PKers spotting you. I don't know how much this game lets us do now, but a lovely looking girl like you could end up being killed or worse by some of the scum I know to play this game."

He eased off, and rubbed the back of his neck with an gauntleted hand.

"That being said, I suppose we both do need to level up." He spared a glance at his HP stat. "And not only do you need a tank, but it would appear I need a healer."

He rested his sword against his hip, removed his gauntlet, and thrust his hand at her for her to shake.

"How about a party?"

_____________________________________________

307 Words

Aila

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

Much to Aila's surprise, a man abruptly appeared, striding out from behind a tree. He and his sword were coated in blood, giving a gruesome, dangerous aura. The man himself was rather tall and well built. From a quick glance he seemed to be a young man, maybe in his twenties. Dressed in plate-mail and wielding that bloody sword, he was clearly someone to not be messed with. The fierce glare on his face only served to accentuate his danger meter. Out of instinct, Aila took a quick step back.


"Was he watching me?"


Soon enough, the man had addressed her and warned her about the danger of soloing, most of which Aila knew all to well. He brought up standard points such as being overwhelmed by mobs or not dealing enough DPS as a Druid. One thing that Aila took note of was the danger of being PK'd. The thought hadn't really crossed her mind. There couldn't be that many malicious individuals could there? Maybe some verbal abuse or segregation but what self respecting, civilized adventurer would go around slaughtering other players for gold, if not for pure joy. The idea seemed farfetched but the combination of the man's professional atmosphere as well as Nanako's previous warning of the same thing served to persuade her slightly. Surely enough though, the man had offered to party with her, stretching out his bare hand for a handshake.


"Well, I do need a party member. Luckily, this man is here. He doesn't seem to nice, but since he's offering..." Aila quickly pondered over the man's offer. Given the points he had mentioned and Aila's own desire for a teammate, the answer was obvious. She easily and gradually stretched out her own hand to accept.


"I suppose you have a point. Well, I'd be glad to party with..."


Abruptly, her hand froze mere millimeters before touching the stranger's. A deep, cold feeling took over her body, sounding warning alarms all over her nervous system. It resembled the sense that one would get before taking candy from that mysterious stranger that had offered some to you. Just in time, the ghastly, helpful voice of Nanako echoed in Aila's mind.


"Beware of strangers...”


Why did her superego sound like that little girl Monk again? Nevertheless, Aila hastily withdrew her hand in a moment of panic, brought on by the subconscious advice. With another moment to think, Aila realized what had brought on her sense of danger. She clearly did not know this man and he was far from trustworthy. Especially with his dangerous atmosphere, caution would be needed to deal with him. Thus, Aila fully pulled back her stretched out arm and instead clapped her palms together, drawing a beaming smile that wouldn't think that the girl could be anything but the most precious, innocent thing ever.


"Oh that's right, sir. You make a very good point about PK'ers. So... How can I be certain you aren't one?"

---

Notes:
WC: 493


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

He raised an eyebrow, lowering his own hand.

She had a good enough point there. He was smeared in blood, taller and broader than her, and, even at level 1 (bloody level 1) he still remained entirely capable of overpowering, assaulting, or outright murdering her.

Apart from the guilty relief he took in being capable of killing most of the people around him (something that, in the real world, had contributed greatly to his confidence, oddly enough) being feared was not something he enjoyed.

He could recall at least a dozen times where he'd wished people were more afraid of him, so they would never say a word against him or those he loved again.

But he could recall a hundred times more where he had cried for how alone he felt when they did.

Still. How to persuade the (mighty fine looking, if he were to compliment her on her looks [simply as friends, he is taken]) young woman in front of him to not run screaming for the Royal Guard/friendly adventurers, of which Firabar had no doubt there were plenty with plenty more levels than him, for fear of a PK?

"Well... because I haven't killed you yet?"

Now that was another good point.

She was a healing class with little offensive capabilities - certainly not at this level - and he was an offensive, highly armoured, martial-arts-trained badass tank class, with a long history of effective and honourable PvP. She had given him every opportunity for him to kill her just short of throwing herself onto his sword, and he hadn't taken - or moved to take, even - a single one. He would have to be an especially twisted man to enjoy a polite conversation with a victim before murdering them mercilessly in the middle of a dire swamp like this.

And he was not twisted.

His polite conversation took place after the match was over, over a nice cup of tea/bottle of cider. That's how civilized folk do it.

"Seriously though, you could - and would - have been dead a dozen times over by now if I was a PKer. I'm not gonna hurt you."

He spared his health bar a glance, and cringed.

"I do also need a healer. I'm not lying about that."

_________________________________________

382 Words.

Aila

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

“I see… Okay, I’ll trust you then.” Having listened to the man’s coherent logic, Aila nodded along and was convinced, concluding the train of thought with another bright smile and hand clap. It was a good thing she’d asked the question though. If he did turn out to be a bad person, things could’ve gone for a horrid development right there and then.


“Oh right, I haven’t introduced myself, yet. My name is Aila. Looking forward to working with you.
"


As a sign of acknowledgement, Aila reached out both her hands to wrap around the man’s into a friendly shake. Soon afterwards, she operated her menu and sent a party invite. Strangely enough, she never did get the chance to send in invite before, as she was the one being invited last time. However, with a bit of intuition and concentration, the player interface proved easy to navigate.


“Now then, how shall we do this?”


Having finished the invite, she looked up at the man. Evidently, he still looked as intimidating as ever. It was without a doubt true that at this range, Aila would be utterly defenseless should the man decide to raise his blade just a little and use it to pierce her soft, tender, pale, smooth flesh… Okay, bad Aila. Stop thinking about your beautiful new body and focus. Back to the point, the man was anything but trustworthy, yet Aila decided to trust him. Perhaps it was just a small part of her subconscious denying evident truths of evil and malice in the world, but she truly wanted to believe that the man was not suspicious, so she did.


Gripping her petite starter wand in her hand, she motioned towards the man.


“Since you’ll be our vanguard, I’ll let you lead the way.”

---

Notes: Short post is short and gullible Aila is gullible
WC: 297


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

"Alrighty then, little one." Firabar gave a big grin, a thumbs up, and started walking in the direction he'd last seen the coolest looking monsters in. Nothing too high level of course. That would be stupid indeed. "My name is Firabar."

He had been stupid before. It had ended badly - or nearly would have, if not for that sweet badass level whatever guardian lady.

Firabar looked out over the Thames. He could see it from where they had walked to, and... It was actually beautiful.

"Ah. It's been so long since that river has been healthy. I can't believe it myself, but the water actually looks clean!" He looked over his shoulder at the pale Druid girl.

There was something off about her. She seemed euphoric, almost, at her very state of being. He had rarely seen anyone so happy with the way they were - and when he did see that, it was someone who had just overcome something that could have killed them, or otherwise made their lives not worth living.

Most of the examples were medical, actually. The biggest once would be Doctors and surgeons receiving news that they did their jobs well under those most stressful of circumstances, when a life - or lives - hang in the balance. Firabar hadn't been in the real world long enough to receive that news as a fully fledged Doctor of Medicine, but that didn't mean he hadn't done some of the same work, even outside a surgery.

He'd once convinced a girl trapped in a boy's body to stop hurting herself, and start eating again. His logic - and very calm logic it was - was that one has to be healthy to maximise one's chances of successful sex change surgery, and to make the most of hormone injections, etc. The girl had then cried some more, and sobbed that the NHS didn't cover that kind of thing.

He'd told her that she was smart and talented enough that she wouldn't need to worry about money if she applied herself.

He'd then also promised that he would help her with it if she needed him. He had told her that although he wasn't a doctor legally - not yet - he believed that being a doctor is more than just a title, though he would never use it as such before he had proven himself, and that he did already consider himself - his very soul - marked to become one. He'd said that he was a doctor and doctors help people. He would never turn her away.

Then he had held her until she stopped crying and saying thank you. Then he held her a while longer until she stopped shaking.

The feeling he'd gotten then was amazing.

The feeling he had gotten two years later when he met her once more, and she finally had a body she loved, was so much better. When they met again, it was his turn to cry, and they were tears of joy.

Although that did bring him into the next example. The very next time he had seen someone as happy as this odd little Druid was when he had met that girl again, and she had had her surgery snd had a good stock of hormones and blockers ready.

Firabar realised how this girl had been looking at herself. It was like she was marvelling at how beautiful she was suddenly.

Like it was new to her.

"How do you want me to address you? Just your name, Aila? Miss Aila?" He gave a pause. "Any other gender pronoun?"


________________________________________

((We should be planning this better. What time zone you in?))

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

Now that the two had been officially acquainted, through the royal ritual known as exchanging names, Aila blindly followed the menacing, but probably not dangerous, Guardian, who had introduced himself as Firabar. She stuck a short distance from the man, staying a little less than two meters from him and a little to the right. There should be a decent area between them where it wouldn’t feel awkward being too close or too far from her new companion. At the same time, she made sure to stay to his right so it’d be easy for him to turn his head and address her should he desire to. Of course, none of the above reasons had been taking into deliberate consideration by the female Druid. It was simply a social habit she had picked up, judging where to stand or sit. It might not seem like it matters but positioning was as essential to social demeanor as stature. That said, while her position was optimal for social interaction, she wasn’t sure if it was good for RPG combat. She was a back-line healer so… maybe?


How to walk with someone 101 aside, Aila was caught slightly off guard by Firabar’s casual question, preoccupied with tip-toeing through the marshlands. It was an innocent enough inquiry, but the words pierced through her like a jagged dagger, especially the second last one. Luckily enough, she’d seem to have avoided the topic of gender since her reincarnation, not a single person questioning her supposed sex. Did her companion figure out her secret? He did seem awfully keen…


“No, it might just be a false alarm. Act natural!”


“Mn, just Aila will do. No need to be formal.” She replied, betraying but the slightest twitch. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll just call you Firabar too.”


“Nailed it! Alright, now distract him and change the topic.”


With practiced ease, Aila nonchalantly stretched her neck, slowly moving from left to right and back. To others it’d seem like she was just sightseeing out of boredom, but she was actually scanning the area for something that would distract the man in front of her. Anything would do for her, even a weirdly shaped rock jutting out from the marsh’s naturally vile liquids. Yeah, something like that brownish sludge that almost looked like it had a face… No wait, it did have a face. Several, in fact.


“Ah, ah. Over there.” She exclaimed, pointing to her discovery. In the path of her finger were a few mounds of animated mud, only visible from their surroundings if one looked carefully. Around four or so Animated Sludges were gathered together, blending in with the muddy ground. If Aila hadn’t been desperately looking for a distraction, she would’ve easily missed the naturally camouflaged monsters. Luckily for her, she had found the perfect topic changer.


“What shall we do?” She turned to Firabar, tilting her head inquisitively.

---

Notes: Firabar
WC: 488


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

Naturally, the always-aware (he was by no means always aware, sometimes going as far as to think that whole days had passed after short naps) ever-watching (not terribly observant either, believe me) all-seeing (no) Firabar had not allowed it to escape him. Not just the nervous twitch, either, but the general way she carried herself.

She had been raised a boy, more likely than not. That, or was masculine by nature - which, given everything else about her, was less than likely.

Poor girl had probably had a fairly rough time of it, too. The old world was not kind to people who felt their bodies to be wrong like that.

He looked back for a moment, concern filling his eyes and his heart. Too many people had lost their lives to the despair brought on by dysphoria, and those who would tell them that they were monsters for their feelings. Far too many people had lost their lives for that bigotry, and he couldn't even begin to imagine how it had affected her.

He smiled, a good natured, heart felt smile.

"You may call me whatever you wish, my friend. If you want to know, my real name is Baran."

Then, he stopped walking, and glanced over at what she had pointed out.

And then the gamer part of him leapt into fiery action, his eyes meeting only targets.

There were four Animated Slimes, oozing and jiggling in the mud. They looked disgusting, and although the earthy, muddy smell of decay in the swamp was not feeling inclined to let Firabar smell anything else in the fetid air, he was pretty sure that those slimes smelt like sewage. They certainly looked like it.

"Hmm. Average level of two or three. I remember similar enemies on the Japan server, and they didn't have any major abilities or intelligence to their names. I find it unlikely that they've changed much since." He gave them a closer look, and then looked quite intently at his own stats.

High strength, fairly low agility (though that was to be expected, admittedly), and very good defense stats all around. HP cap was high, mana cap was low as always for guardians, but his abilities reflected that, so it was fine.

Level 4.

He wasn't entiiiiirely sure when he had leveled up, but the level gave him confidence in his ability to take on those slimes and win. Not all at once, of course, if he had been on his own, soloing it up, but he had a healer too.

A pretty smart looking healer, from the sound of it.

"You fancy going for em, Aila?"

________________________

440 words.

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

"Did he know?"


...


Uncertainty over whether or not Firabar had figured out her secret haunted Aila as she nervously faced the animated sludges. Her gut feelings were raising diluted warning alarms that only made things more interesting. If only she had the wonderful super power known as a woman's intuition, reading the Guardian's response might've been easier, but such a talent had not been gifted to her. Instead, she had to try to guess his thoughts through his speech and tone of voice. To make sure she didn't make any suspicious actions, she restrained from glancing at him to steal a look at his face, lest he might interpret her look as dubious. He spoke with a gentle warmness, which contrasted greatly with the dangerous aura he had when they first met. The question that haunted Aila, though, was whether this kindness was an indication of knowledge or ignorance? On one hand, he might've been acting compassionately to make her feel better about her situation. The other was that he had not noticed her secret and was thus not dramatically reacting to it. Assuming one or the other could prove disastrous so she'd have to gauge his reaction later. For now, she'd have to focus on the battle at hand. Her social troubles could come later.


"I'm up for the task." Aila nodded in approval to the idea of taking on the four muddy monsters. "That's what we came here for right? Their numbers may prove challenging but I'm sure it's nothing too challenging. Luckily, they don't seem to aggressive, so we have a bit of time to strategize."


Following her own advice, Aila began to examine her opponents, after listening to her probably more experienced partner's input on the monsters. They sort of resembled the slimes that she was all too familiar with battling, except probably stronger... and more dirty. Quickly, she tried to recall the information that the bartender had dispensed before sending her off to battle. What was he warning her about again...? Oh right, how annoying the debuffs were.


"I might not be correct, but I've heard that there are monsters with poison attacks in swamp areas. I don't have any debuff clearing spells right now, so be careful in case they really can poison." She warned the Warrior.


Speaking of skills, she didn't have many. A heal, a damage, and a crowd control spell made up her limited roster of abilities, a mixed build that represented the versatility of the Druid class. With her flexible power, she could basically fit into many different roles depending on the situation. Considering that her party member seemed to be a few levels above her, she should probably just focus on healing and supporting him.


"I think I'll back you up as you go and fight. I'm not too skilled, but I'll try my best to keep you alive!" She exclaimed, waving her wand to indicate her intentions.

---

Notes: Firabar 
WC: 490


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

"Don't worry. I'm sure I'll be fine. Just focus on making sure I don't die too quickly, and we'll be good to go, aye, Aila?" He looked back at her as he strode forward, unsheathing his sword with a flourish, muscles already tensed.

He saw her deliberately looking away, and he could tell it was deliberate. Her voice cracked a little - just a little, barely perceivable, honestly - and he knew that she was scared already.

For a moment, he mused on how it must suck to be stuck in the wrong body, and then smiled when he realised that, actually, she wasn't any more. She was in her own body for perhaps the first time in her whole life, and that meant that whatever odd force had pulled them all into the game couldn't be all bad.

And it would be an interesting conversation with Aila, telling her he knew.

If he was gonna have that conversation at all.

But he turned back towards the slimes, which had just noticed him, and were moving out. Their mouths opened and closed slowly, like demented, decaying, goo fish. It was actually disgusting, and he nearly retched when the odour of their actual breath hit him. It smelled so bad he was surprised that he didn't already have the poison debuff.

As they got closer, the smell intensified, and he activated his Anchor Howl and Cool Defense at the same time, blue light crackling around him, as was custom for the Anchor Howl animation, as he roared mightily, and pointed his sword skywards.

"Let's dance, slimey!" He growled, as he blocked some kind of goo spit from one of them with his shield, and began hacking at another with his sword.

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

“Alright.”


Aila nodded and tightened her grip on the cheap Starter Wand that had been handed to her when she started her character. Her lithe body arched, tensing every nerve and muscle in her body. In preparation for the battle, her focus narrowed in like a thin laser, spreading strength and what was possibly magical energy through her petite frame. Her targets became clear and actions came to her as if they were being spat out by a muse. Senses sharpened, enhancing vision, hearing and sme-


“Euuh, it still smells nasty…”


Aila inaudibly whined to herself as the scent of disgusting mud and rubbish entered her nostrils. The sensory experience immediately snapped her out of hyper concentration mode, returning her to her usual self.


That unnecessary moment of focus that basically amounted to nothing aside, Aila observed as Firabar engaged the sludge monsters. Blue light eradiated from his stalwart body as he steadily defended and slashing at the goo monsters. She did not envy his closer view of the probably repulsive creatures.


In the current situation, Aila didn’t have many options for helping her Guardian, who was stuck in combat. She couldn’t heal over his max health so using a healing spell now while he was relatively uninjured wouldn’t be as effective. No, instead she’d do better to help add on some damage.


“Here we go… Lightning Fall.” Aila casually aimed her wand slightly upwards to a point just vertically above were Firabar and the Animated Sludges were duking it out. With a simple skill selection, red light radiated from her Starter wand as a small yellow sphere began to form where she was pointing. In the span of two seconds, electrical charges gathered in the sphere before being released in a powerful single strike of current and voltage. Her target, a particularly repulsive animated sludge (Yes, she did pick which one she would attack based on how ugly they looked), was immediately torched with a delightfully, at least to Aila, painful shock.

What happened next, though, was completely out of Aila’s original plan. The lightning that had hit the electrocuted sludge then jumped out towards another one within close vicinity to it… and then to another… and then another… before finally leaping towards the Armor-clad Guardian…


“Oh yeah… Lightning Fall is a chain target spell…”


Aila mentally face palmed from her stupid mistake. She turned to the targeted Guardian bowing sincerely. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

---

WC: 412
Notes: Firabar


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

Initially, he was angry. He was very angry indeed. Before he could think about what exactly had happened, he had been about to turn around and give Aila a sharp smack around the head for that. You have to be a real noob to not know your class' abilities like that.

Of course, he couldn't do that, because he was convulsing like a madman on account of being given a terrific electric shock. All he managed to show his initial intent was turning his head around to look at her angrily.

But then his face turned to a mixture of confusion and intrigue. He had no idea that chain effect spells like that could work this way. And yet they did.

Hmm. That was funny. Well, not funny - in fact it was rather painful - but he was sure that even chain spells wouldn't arc to players in your own party. Were things different in the game?

No... No that wasn't it. He'd seen players doing exactly what he and Aila were meant to be doing here, and successfully too, without chain-spelling the tank with lightning. As much as he had seen, magic tended to aim itself towards the mage's own target.

Firabar grunted, cleaving at one of the slimes, reducing its hitpoints deftly to 1/2 of their maximum capacity, and blocking an attack with excellently expert easiness. It had been a clumsy blow, though, not really befitting of the mobs' levels. He was going to have to deal with more than that if he wanted to pull through - and if he wanted Aila to pull through too.

Was she subconsciously seeing him as a threat to her? It was far from impossible - after all, he had been somewhat prying regarding her gender, and her obvious (and they were obvious) insecurities. It was entirely likely, in fact, that her subconscious was responding to him as if he were an equal or greater threat to the slimes he had been fighting just before she had arc'd him, which was also weird, because a gang of slimes like these would positively destroy a rear-lines class like a druid, if the druid was alone.

"Are you-" He managed between convulsions, as the slimes, having recovered before him on account of not wearing metal, conductive armour, started beating at his chest and legs with slimy, icky, awful smelling attacks.

"A-Are you s-scar-rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr- scarrrrred- scared of me?" He fell into a twitch for a moment, somewhat reminiscent of a malfunctioning artificial intelligence, just before recovering fully, and exhaustedly raising his shield, and realising his HP was at 37%.

"Heal me! Heal me please!" His eyebrows shot up and he hunkered down frantically, shield bashing a slime that was preparing some kind of strong attack, and slashing at the gooey menaces where he could.

______________________________________________________

471 Words.

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, so so so sorry!” Aila rapidly apologized while electricity coursed through Firabar’s body. The now electrocuted Guardian continued to shoot angry glances at her between the constant attacks from the sludge and even more constant aftershock from the lightning, which only prompted her to apologize more and more in order to appease his anger. Why did her supposed ally seem 100 times more likely to smack her upside the head than the supposed enemies, the Animated Sludges? From the killing intent the Guardian was leaking, he would have done just that had the lightning bolt not paralyzed him.


Aila trembled as she looked up at the battered up Warrior who was fighting off the numerous sludges with his large sword and shield. His raged expression combined with the heat of combat made him seem like a hulking berserker, ready to slaughter all in his way. Why’d that darn lightning bolt have to go and hit him to begin with? Perhaps she might’ve aimed it a bit too close because of a mistake in depth perception, a problem that wasn’t originally in the game, but wasn’t it just too unlucky that the voltage had to leap towards the friendly party member? The metal conductive armor of his didn’t do much to protect him from that viscious blow… Wait. Could it be… did the lightning fly towards him because his metal armour attracted it? No way… that’s not how electricity works… right?


Aila’s train of thought was soon interrupted by her convulsing companion, who had turned to her again, still paralyzed compared to the re-energized sludges who were whittling him down by the second. His shivering, desperate voice proved eerie, freezing Aila in place, unable to answer the question with more than a little head shake, as she could do nothing but observe the suffering Guardian. She wasn’t even sure why she was scared of the beaten down man, but thankfully his quick, curt command snapped her out of the frightened trance.


“Y-yes sir.” And with forced eagerness, Aila raised her wand, moving closer to Firabar, and casted her only healing spell on him. “Heartbeat Healing.” A green glow surrounded the mud-covered, electrified almost-corpse, raising Firabar’s hp bar gradually by about 20% over a period of 20 seconds.


Taking the chance, an opportunistic Sludge leaped up and tried to interrupt the Guardian’s healing but Aila quickly swatted it away with a simple karate chop. It dealt no damage and her hand was all icky now but it momentarily protected Firabar and at that moment she really had no right to complain.


“A-a-are you okay?” She asked, waiting for her spell’s cooldown to finish so she could heal him again.

---

WC: 456
Notes:
Tag: Firabar


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

"Ow. Ow ow ow." He ow'd as he parried and parried, before sidestepping a slime's vicious gooey jab, gently pushing Aila back with his sword hand on her chest, out of harm's way, before bringing his sword down on the beast in a rage. He cleaved it in two, a pungent odour filling the air even thicker as its HP sank down below zero, and chunks of gunge spilled out from the wound, before it exploded into a collection of brightly coloured bubbles, XP, and gold.

"No. It's fine. I'm fine. Don't worry." He smiled half-weakly at her, as his hitpoints raised back up about 50%. "Thanks for bitch slapping that oversized amoeba for me. I'd hate to have had my healing interrupted." His smile broke into a larger grin for a moment, before, with renewed fervour, and an increased love of the fight, he threw himself back at his foes, hacking, slashing, taking an odd hit to give himself a better vantage over them.

"Keep the healing coming, please!" He shouted back in a polite, if loud, request.

Now this was what it was about. He'd been in a bar fight or two before, and usually came out relatively unharmed, or at least without having lost much blood, but there was something really quite exhilarating about fighting someone who can fight back. His heart was beating faster every second, not even from a lack of fitness, but from the excitement and energy pulsing through him, making his body feel light, giving his eyes a glow, turning his cheeks pink as he sucked in more of the admittedly fetid air to fuel his onslaught.

This was better than a bar fight by a long shot.

Sword in hand, armour donned, shield bashing the enemy, this was like a dream. There was only one thing missing from his perfect visage of how this should be going, and that was Jeanne.

His beloved melee-dps-tank counterpart.

But he hadn't said goodbye before they'd logged in, and he'd come to realise that he hadn't needed to, because he was going to find her some day. The only variable was whether or not he did it alone.

He sliced another slime in two, his grin broadening even more as loot fell around its dissipated corpse. There weren't many left now. They would be done soon enough, and then they could look for more fights. With a healer to back him up, Firabar had precisely 0 fears. They could probably even try a mini-boss, and the-

His train of thought was interrupted by a blow to the face that smelled suspiciously of cow faeces, and he was reminded to focus on the fight before dreaming.

___________________________

449 words.

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

“Phew…”


Aila exasperated in relief as Firabar’s hp bar refilled. Soon enough, the guardian was energetically dodging, parrying, and slashing with such vigour, that you’d think he was trying to show off. Pushed out of the way of combat, Aila didn’t have much to do other than wait for her cooldowns to end so she could apply another heal. Anchor Howl seemed to still be in effect, so she didn’t have to worry about being attacked by any of the sludges. Of course, she could use one of her other spells but she didn’t have much mana to spare. Also, the last time she did that, about a minute ago, the attack ended with a convulsing, electrocuted teammate and only slightly damaged enemies. So, she spent the time observing the invigorated warrior swing left and right in hopes of cleaving through another hopping sludge monster, occasionally dodging their foul attacks, foul being used here for more than one meaning.


The first thing she noticed was that Firabar was … smiling? He looked like he was having the time of his life, fighting off monsters for amusement. True enough, the thrill and adrenaline of battling miscellaneous foes was one, if not the largest, reason for playing video game such as Elder Tales. Unfortunately, such excitement didn’t really capture Aila. She had fun playing around with wonderful magic, or peering at fantastical scenery and creatures encountered through adventures, but she never saw the fun in battling it out with them. Just what was the appeal of violence? Perhaps it was just a guy thing…


Oh! In her deep though, Aila had almost failed to notice her cooldown finishing, allowing her to once again use her spell. With a little twirl of the wand and mental press of a button, she re-activated her most useful ability. “Heartbeat Healing” Of course, rather than immediately refilling the Guardian’s decreasing health bar, the rectangle represent his health seemed almost stagnant as her healing spell slowly replenished his life, offsetting the damage he was simultaneously taking from the rampaging Sludges, throwing and tackling away at his metal armour, whittling it down with endless patience. She wasn’t sure whether her healing or their attacks were winning the tug-of-war between a full and empty health bar. At least, he wasn’t dying. Now that she had completed her role, it was back to watching him fight again. Perhaps a little small talk would relieve her boredom.


“You look like you’re having fun.” Aila commented. “Do you like battling? Even though monsters can be scary?” Hopefully she wouldn’t be distracting Firabar too much by asking him these questions.

---

Notes: Sorry if not a lot of things happening in this post. Wasn't sure what to write.
WC: 437


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.

[Firabar]

Firabar backpedaled a little, letting one of the slimes' charged attacks miss harmlessly, before shield bashing another one who was charging up the same attack, positively wrecking the cooldown - and killing it, which was a welcome relief. Armour clanking lightly, he then simultaneously blocked another attack - although he did notice with a wince that some of the damage made it through the shield, he would probably need a new one soon - and thrust his sword through another slime, dealing significant, but not yet lethal, damage.

"Oh, oh of course I like fighting!" He turned back to her, grinning in a way that was not quite like a madman, but admittedly kinda close. "I mean, it's thrilling. Don't you like it?"

The slime on the end of his sword started trying to pull itself along the sword, towards his hand and arm, taking minor damage as it did so, but it was a slime anyway so the whole impalement thing was no big deal for it.

But Firabar did not like the prospect of his fingers being the subject of some rather thorough digestion, so he made a point of swinging the long blade around, throwing the slime off of it and into the other slime.

"And yeah, yeah they can be scary, and there's an almost 100% chance that I'm going to underestimate my enemies at some point, or miscount their numbers, or just generally make a mistake, and be killed horribly as a result, but in this world, I don't even think we can die permanently at all."

He pushed on towards the remaining slimes, his sword ready to lunge out from behind the iron wall of his greatshield, his armour covered in muck and blood- his own blood, actually. That had been one of the biggest surprises, finding out that, in this new world, people can still bleed like in real life. There hadn't really been any blood in the game before the catastrophe, except for as a cosmetic effect to some of the Assassin class' moves, and even then, it had remained the same amount and colour and everything no matter what or who they were using the attack on - it had been purely aesthetic.

"If you don't like fighting, why are you playing a game based mostly around-" He grunted at his slammed his sword down on a slime, shaving away a chunk of its health. "- fighting monsters? Especially if you find them scary."

_____________________________________________________________________

Notes: Yeah, I have no idea either. I normally write in a novel-type setting, so wordcount is less important. I've been really struggling to match yours, actually, so you're obviously good at this.

413 Words

[Aila]

anyone's any
was all to her

“Hmmm…” Aila held a blank expression as she reflected on Firabar’s words. The Guardian continued to dance around with a choreography containing wild slashes, precise thrusts, and elegant counters. Step followed slash followed dodge as he took on the ever weakening sludges with wet sweat, sparkling sweat, and flying sweat. Physical and mental activity merged as movement followed calculation. Eyes moved rapidly up and down to track enemy motion while the body endeavored to keep up. Without a doubt, combat was an art, even in the eyes of Aila. The honed senses and continued practice that led to beautiful movements and sharp skills were reminiscent of sports. Faint memories of watching fisherman swing their rods with practiced grace surfaced to the young girl’s mind. As if drawing pictures in the sky, the fisherman would swing back, wave the rod about before the final swing, launching his hook past meters of fish-less water and into a treasure chest of opportunity. Firabar’s sword was like the fisherman’s rod, always moving and always aiming for something greater, faster, or stronger. Without a doubt, it was something to be admired, but the question was, “Was it fun?” No, the question should be “Was it fun to her?”


The answer came immediately. “No.” It wasn’t fun. There was no pleasure to be found in exchanging blows with another creature. It can be cool having magical abilities and all, but the combat itself wasn’t enjoyable. It was violent, brutal, manly, and pumped full of adrenaline but it wasn’t entertaining. Atleast not to her. But that only made Firabar’s question all the more relevant. Why did she play this game before the apocalypse? What drove her to be online enough to be dragged into this different dimension?


While she was lost in deep thought, an opportunistic sludge charged recklessly at Aila’s head. The stationary Druid barely ducked fast enough to dodge the attack… or so she thought until she realized the sludge had grazed the top of her scalp, leaving behind smelly, damp residue, much to the young girl’s displeasure.


“Eww… not my hair. I just groomed it yesterday…” She pouted, grimacing at the icky feeling on top of her crown. Sheesh, why did everything in this world want to ruin her beautiful new body?


“Wait… my body…?” Aila muttered and stared down at her chest (Not in that way, perv). That’s right… so that was why.


Having her epiphany, Aila turned again to Firabar.


“You’re right. Even though there are other factors, Elder Tales was heavily based on fighting and combat. A-and I enjoyed that. I liked healing teammates and shooting magical spells at my enemies. But, now… now it’s different.” She gripped her wand in her right hand and felt its wooden texture. “I’m not fighting through a computer screen anymore. The monsters are real and I’m real as well. And that… frightens me…”

---

WC: 479
Notes:


[Italics= English; Underline = German, Bold = Italian, Nothing = Japanese)

by sixsmith.