MUST READ!
Alright so I have news. I say it's good news but I can see how some people would think it's bad.
I am rewriting Onslaught. The entire thing, from start to an eventual finish. Two reasons. The first is that I haven't ever really put much effort into any of the chapters I've written. And I believe it shows. The story is full of holes and there are plenty of things in it that I don't ever remember writing. My notes were basically non-existent and so I was sorta clueless when I started writing this chapter. It was very frustrating.
Before I would just read back through the story any time I took a break between writing. But the story is continuously growing and I don't want to re-read through it so often just to remember a sub plot. So reason number one is everything is too messy.
Reason number two is that the story actually has a plot besides just the general Kirito will survive 5 years idea. I've received a lot of helpful advice and I've seriously considered what I've already written. So there are now whole sub plots and an actual plot, written down and ready for me to use. Aside this I've changed a lot of things in the world. An example is that, rather then focusing on Argo as one of the characters I would rather write a Sinon perspective. That's one of the biggest difference between version one and two.
Anyway I was kind of rambling. What this note is here for is to let everyone know the story is not abandoned nor forgotten. But damn its been a long time since I updated it huh?
So I am rewriting Onslaught and I've already put a bunch of effort into the new version of the story. I think the difference is obvious.
But you guys are my loyal readers and I want to know what you think about something. Should I post the rewrite as a separate story post and leave this one up or should I delete all the chapters and just repost the new ones? I have put up a poll on my profile for this. Please let me know what you think.
Should I post this as a new story there will be one final chapter posted to this story to let anyone/everyone know.
As a final note, this might be a long author's note but the chapter below still has a decent amount of content. 4710 words when I uploaded the document. But it is not a complete chapter. The Kirito part is sort of cut off where I was working on it. And I was going to add another POV after Asuna but I decided to rewrite while I was working on this chapter so I just sort of stopped working on it.
But I figured you guys deserved it if you managed to read that whole AN. Please Enjoy.
Chapter 14
February 5th
Aincrad Tier Three, South-West District
The early morning sun bathed Kirito's sleeping figure in a warm glow. He groaned and rolled over as nature's wake-up call hit his face. 'Should've shut the damn shade…' He silently moaned.
Half his face lay molded to his pillow but his left eye was still free and it lazily opened as he blearily manipulated the air in front of his face. His menu appeared and he tapped the blinking icon alerting him to an un-read PM.
Hi Kirito,
It me Sachi. I hope you are alright. I lost sight of you when you ran off yesterday and I never managed to find you again. I figured you probably ditched the post event party huh? You should have come, Ducker convinced Sasamaru and Tetsuo into a drinking contest. It got totally out of control and this old guy who joined crushed everyone. It was really funny.
Anyway… I told the group about your real level. But no one really cares that you hadn't mentioned it. We already knew you were very strong when you ran into you all alone. Level 50 though, wow.
Oh, whoopsie I am rambling te-he. We are going to go check out what's east this month. Everyone agreed you are invited to come along if you want.
Just message me back before we leave tomorrow afternoon if you wanna come.
-Sachi
Kirito dismissed the blue screen and rolled over again. Blinking into the sun he grumbled and sat up. Rubbing his eyes Kirito glanced around the room, till his eyes landed on a basin in the corner. While still in the city he wanted to take advantage of the available amenities. So Kirito hopped up and started to fill the metal tub with the spigot from the wall.
A stone slab lay beneath the lifted tub and some fresh cut firewood lay stacked to the side. He snagged some kindling and his ‹‹Fire Striker›› from his inventory and after several showers of sparks the tinder caught. Kirito carefully fed several logs into the growing conflagration. Several minutes later he shut the water off and fed several more logs to complete a small fire teepee. After breakfast he would have a nice hot bath to soak in.
Walking down the steps from his room, Kirito glanced around the common room of the ‹‹Fiery Wheat Inn››. Done up in wooden planks with dark wooden furniture the room blended perfectly with the medieval feeling of Aincrad's third tier. Kirito stepped over a large stain and found himself a stool of the corner of the bar counter.
The NPC's around the room were very quiet this morning. Only one table had a discussion going on. They were speaking barely above a whisper but Kirito was able to make out the topic. They were discussing yesterday's event and how many homes were destroyed from the scorpion's assault. Over a dozen businesses and a hundred families were now displaced.
After making his order Kirito pondered the issue. 'I wonder what an NPC does when it loses its house.' He blew on his hot porridge when it arrived then ate the meal in quick spoonfuls. 'Perhaps the house rebuilds itself? Or does a player have to rebuild it? Can't a player just build something else there then? Oh well. I imagine someone will have done something a month from now.'
A half-pint of frothy milk was set onto the counter in front of him and Kirito nodded to the waitress. The wooden mug was grabbed and Kirito took a sip only to forcefully spit the milk back into the mug. He gagged on the thick creamy drink and a player sitting next to him thumped him good on the back.
The NPC's eyed him oddly but didn't comment. However the man thumping his back was roaring with laughter. Across the quiet room it drew a lot of attention. The older man calmed himself after a moment "That milk isn't like what ya get back home boyo. It'd be straight from the cow here. Nice and thick, no modern tinkerin' in Aincrad," he said. Kirito didn't reply and the man just shrugged and returned to his porridge.
Looking into the mug Kirito couldn't tell his backwash from the naturally froth 'What the hell,' he thought 'I paid for it after all.' Mug in hand he finished the milk in a dozen large gulps. Getting up Kirito left his coins on the counter and went back to his room. 'It wasn't bad, but I certainly prefer my milk cold. Warm from the cow's udder is… Less than desirable.'
-[S]-[A]-[O]-
Liz
Aincrad Second Tier, Heart Forged
Liz startled awake as her alarm blared its shrill tone. Ripe and early at six am she woke and quickly fought her way out of bed. Today will be a busy day, she needs to get the forge roaring as quickly as possible. A stream of players will flood her shop all day past eight and they will keep her busy for the remainder of the week.
She groaned as she felt the small mental fatigue from waking up two hours earlier than normal. However not being open and ready for business earlier today would be a sure way to lose a lot of customers. She shuffled over to stand in front of her massive oak armoire. All her clothes were packed into the piece of furniture that occupied over half her bedroom.
She shimmed out of her comfy silk pajamas and set about changing into her working leathers. Most people preferred to let the system change their clothing when they equipped it with their menu. But Liz always gets a painful wedgie when she lets the system do it. So she just manually changes her clothes. She reached out and grabbed a length of red ribbon which she used to tie her hair back into a short pony tail.
Breakfast would be arriving soon and she needed to be downstairs then. Frederick would not be pleased if she wasn't there to answer the door when she had requested an early delivery. He normally stopped by twice a week around 10:00am. But she doesn't have time for him except this early.
Walking towards her bedroom door she glanced at the miniature grandfather clock ticking away.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Its weathered frame rattled as a fist beat sharply against her backdoor. For a blacksmith's workshop her building shook way too much. '6:10, he's right on time. I just wish he wouldn't knock so loud. I only overslept that one Sunday…' She walked through her kitchen and went down the staircase into her workshop.
She hoped to catch the door before he knocked again. Her neighbors always complained to her about any sort of loud noise. The dumb NPC's like in the Metal District blacksmiths are everywhere here banging loudly every day. The NPC's on this street seem to think they live in the Merchant District. She had tried several times to reason with them but they are all delusional. Hopefully more players would move in soon.
She undoes the latch and catches the small fist heading towards her abdomen. She can smell her fresh rolls over the background of old garbage and mold that infests the alley. "Yes, yes I am here Frederick. Here is your col. Yes, thank you for the food. Yes, I know you are busy, ok run along," she quickly says.
The young boy glares at her from under his overly large olive beret. She never gives him a chance to speak. All because he complained she slept in and made him miss an appointment once. She tossed a handful of coins and he quickly scoops them out of the air with his hat. Liz sees his messy brown hair was recently cut but doesn't comment. The coins are soundlessly caught, seems she is his first customer today.
Frederick gives her a cheeky smile and runs off down the alley. He has a small burlap sack cinched to his shoulders and Liz can see it bulging with whatever else he is off to deliver. He is eager to finish the breakfast duty so he can run errands the rest of the day. After an event lazy players will be looking for someone to run their gear for repairs. While the cogneers will get anyone to run them supplies to hasten the repairs across the ruined south district. There is a small fortune to be made for the city's young kids.
Liz turns around and heads back up to her kitchen. She sets asides two fresh rolls and stores the rest of the food away in her pantry. Her small cooler is still stocked with ice and she smiles gleefully when she pulls out some butter. With a silly smile she spreads some on her rolls and digs in. She pours herself a cup of water and washes the flaky bread down.
When she is finished she pays a brief visits to the adjacent bathroom. Then she walks back down stairs towards her workshop. Her apron is strewn across the handrail and she snatches it to put on. The flamboyant red material is somewhat obnoxious. Still the ‹‹Fire Lizard Apron›› is twice as durable and five times more flame resistant than her previous apron. After it had caught fire and scared the shit out of her she had asked around at the guild meeting several days ago and been recommended her new one.
She cinched the apron tightly in place and donned the matching gloves from where they lay on her anvil. She turned from the center of the room to her stout brick forge alongside the far wall. She grabs of pair of tongs from the wall and pokes around the coals still on the hearth. She smiles and does a short jump of joy. "Yes!" She shouts.
Old man Turner smacks his cane against his wall in complaint but she ignores him. Some of the coals kept overnight so she stepped over to the bellows and started pumping slow bursts of air onto the embers.
She has been practicing keeping the coals lit overnight to expedite her morning process. This is the second time she had managed it. After a minute of working the bellows the embers had flared up and were burning hotter. She grabbed her shovel and piled fresh coals onto the hearth. She layered them into a nice thick bed. She set the shovel back against the metal bin full of coal. She had restocked it yesterday preparing for the week.
Back on the bellows she glanced down and noticed her sock clad feet standing on the cold smooth stone floor. She had forgotten to re-equip her boots again. She quickly materialized two boots and let the system put them on… Only to realize they were on the wrong feet.
She sighed and sat down on the floor to fix the mess. A minute later she got back up and started rhythmically pumping air to fan the spreading flames.
While staring at the growing conflagration she thought back to when she had been taught by an NPC smith to maintain her own forge. His had required no maintenance and burned 24/7 with no dangers. Only when he let her try her hand with the forge would it act unruly. It wasn't fair NPC smiths didn't have to do half the work she did!
After fifteen minutes the coals were now burning hot. The flames were a whitish-yellow in color and radiated extreme heat. The workshop had heated up quite a bit. Liz walked towards the large window stretching across the back wall and propped it half open. Thankfully none of the stench from the back alley wafted in as the hot air rushed from the room. She glanced at the sky and noted it would be a clear cold day.
She walked through the workshop and entered into the storefront. The grey stone room was immaculately organized and well stocked. Along the walls her craft hung polished to gleam from its previous dull gray. Decorations festooned the armor and her ‹‹Aincrad Iron›› gear was displayed from behind the counter.
She grabbed up her log book laying on the counter. She checked it to ensure she hadn't forgotten any back logged orders and was glad to see a clear entry. The week is going to be swamped enough. No need for a forgotten order.
Liz set the book down and walked towards the front door. She unlocked the door and took the wooden sign from where it hung against the door. She stepped out onto the stoop and propped the sign up on the edge of the road. The sign proclaimed her open for business so she turned and went back into the shop.
Sitting on her anvil with her feet propped up on her grinding wheel Liz hummed a song she had listened to a bard preform recently. Mentally she prepared herself for what was coming. People will bring her their gear in every condition imaginable.
Dents in their armor that needs to hammer flush, rents and rifts to fold closed, stiff joints that need loosening and some idiot will bring her a shredded shirt of chain mail but she doesn't have time to reattach a hundred different rings before noon. Someone will bring their torn leather armor and someone will whine about new wood for their shield. Sorry, but take that work to the tailors and woodworkers.
Then they will bring out their weaponry. Bent blades have to be straightened. Then sharpened to a keen edge. Knives have to be thin as a razor, axes are thick and somewhat blunt and swords range everywhere in-between. What a headache. Chipped weapons she smelts down and gives them a discount for a replacement. They will have spear heads need to be replaced and shields to re-band.
People will ask her to re-wrap their grip and ask where they can purchase javelins. More work for the tailors and woodworkers. Then come the custom orders… Sure any other time she will do a custom order for a slightly higher price. But not today, not tomorrow and probably not anytime this week.
When the pace eventually slows down she will once again start engraving pommels and breastplates. Someone will ask her to create a ridiculous custom weapon or piece of armor. On a slow day she will try if they pay for everything up front and are told there is no guarantee of success. Some of the things people think up and request are just too amusing to not try and equip them with.
Right before the last event a small skinny teenager had come to her with measly set of armor. He requested she enhance his iron codpiece. He wanted it to be at least twice as large and when she humored him he strutted out of the store with a bulging decorative crotch. Too bad there aren't cameras or she would have mounted that photo in the store.
Lost in her thoughts Liz was startled when the large iron bell hanging from her door clanged loudly announcing her first customer. She grabbed a rag and wiped her brow clear of sweat. A cheery smile stretched across her lips and she went to greet them. Three men and a woman stood in her store. They quickly request she sell them five dozen ‹‹Aincrad Iron Picks›› her best throwing pick design.
The col is exchanged and a damaged cabasset style helmet is handed over. The youngest guy among the group looked sheepish and asked, "Can you fix this miss?" Liz stared at the smashed in conical helmet and then replied.
"How the hell did you even survive this happening?" He laughed embarrassed and answered.
"It stopped just shy of mashing my skull. I guess that cone saved my life he he."
"I would seem so. Alright it'll take me about an hour to hammer this back into shape and it'll cost ya 250 col." The man hands her the col and one of his companions says.
"Good thing we came her first. Alright miss we will be back in an hour lets go stock up on everything else guys." A round of nodding heads answered the man and the group left. Liz carried the mangled helmet to her forge and tossed it into the flame. She took a pair of tongs off the wall and took hold of the helm and began slowly turning it waiting for it to heat up.
'A whole five dozen of my ‹‹Aincrad Iron Picks››… That's a third of my stock. I have plenty of other picks but no one will be happy with inferior weapons.' Her stock was limited when it came to the ‹‹Aincrad Iron›› style gear. It was a set of weapons and armor made for level 25 players and it was the strongest set at its level. But it cost a lot in time and money to make. So buying anything from the set was very expensive.
'I will have to limit sales to a set of a dozen per person, or maybe even six per person…' The ‹‹Aincrad Iron›› style was the Blacksmith Guild's ‹‹Initiate›› rank schematics. A smith had to be at least the second rank with the ‹‹Blacksmith›› skill a ‹‹Journeyman›› to craft any of the set. Liz had spent most of the past month working on completing her ‹‹Aincrad Iron›› set. If she could create every schematic she had purchased from the guild master she would be promoted to an ‹‹Apprentice›› within the guild and gain access to the next tier of guild schematics.
Two smiths had shown their collections at the previous meeting and been promoted. They were brothers who owned a shop together and while one worked on the set the other ran the shop. So they were the first and only ones so far to unlock the ‹‹Aincrad Steel›› set. By now they likely hadn't worked out how to make steel yet. It required a smith to be an ‹‹Expert›› with the ‹‹Blacksmith›› skill. And no one had enough time to progress out of ‹‹Journeyman››. Still the brother's featured nightly in most conversations and their shop was booming for it.
Liz couldn't wait till she could rank up in the guild. She only had several more pieces to create and at the next meeting she would show off her collection. She had a custom banner waiting to be strung across the street outside proclaiming her new advancement.
The cabasset was now glowing a dull red and she withdrew it from the forge. The black smoke parted around the helmet and rolled slowly up the brick chimney. She twisted around and snatched up her hammer. A small indicator popped up above the helmet and she started striking the glowing part to un-crumple it.
As she hammered it smoothly flowed back into shape. The indicator glowed green and she continued till the helmet was roughly in shape. She lifted it with the tongs and doused it into a large trough full of water beside the forge. A wave of steam hissed form the hot metal and rapidly cooled it. Out of the trough it came and Liz set the helmet on a table next to the trough.
In five minutes she would once again place it into the forge to reheat it before she finishes hammering it into shape. Her bell clanged loudly and she went to see who it was now. An average sized man stood before her with shockingly yellow hair. He was wearing bright yellow clothing and he grinned brightly at her when she walked into the store.
She grabbed the rag hanging on the wall and wiped her brow clean and smiled at the man. "Hello, welcome to Heart Forged, I am Lisbeth how may I help you?" The man accessed his menu and materialized his sword onto the counter. It was a huge fearsome iron greatsword with a custom guard and pommel. The problem with the blade is that it's been shattered into eight pieces.
"As you can see, young maiden. My fearsome blade ran afoul of a rhinoceros's horn the previous day. I wish for ‹‹Narsil›› to be re-forged." Liz sighed.
'Narsil… Honestly he had to shatter it to, this guy takes roleplaying seriously. Alright time to break this guy's heart.' Liz smiled brightly and made eye contact.
"I regret to inform you that your sword if beyond repair. Maybe at a higher rank of blacksmith I would be capable of fixing it but at the moment I am sorry but I can't re-forge it into Andúril." His smile instantly dropped and he glared at her.
"Ha ha, well thanks a lot for nothing than." She stomped out of the shop and Liz was just glad he didn't make more of a scene. More customers were pouring into the shop now. She needed to get back to the cabasset but her store front was filling up as well.
'I should really look into hiring an assistant.'
-[S]-[A]-[O]-
Asuna
Aincrad Plain, Northern Barn
Walking towards the red barn Asuna could feel the frost hardened grass crunch beneath her feet. The barn was squat and rundown. Wood was missing in several places and the steep roof looked like it might fall soon.
Her breath misted through the morning air as she cheerily greeted the stable boys wandering every which way. Before stepping in through the door she glanced towards the towering Rhewi mountain range. A great bank of gray clouds rolled across the northern horizon and was slowly swallowing the pale sky.
Two stable hands were stocking hay in an adjacent shed and Asuna overhead one say how he expects it'll snow soon. The driver on the hay wagon nodded his agreement and told the boys to hurry up, the old man had no wish to be out later in the snow.
When she turned back around to enter the barn a familiar head of black hair caught her eye. The long ponytail was soon yanked as Asuna reached her best friend. "Hey Pel! You beat me out here again," She said. Pel turned and Asuna looked at her classic Japanese features and smiled innocently when she saw the glare on Pel's face.
"Damnit Asuna! Stop pulling on my ponytail. Shit hurts ya know?" A giggle and a smirk were all Pel got in reply. Asuna walked passed her short friend and over to her horses stall. Pel strode up to the adjacent stall and they both called for a groom to kit up their mounts for the day.
"What did'ja have for breakfast Pel?" Asuna chirped.
"Some shitty gruel from an inn. I only paid half the cost since it was so awful tasting. I'm adding the ‹‹Fiery Wheat Inn›› to the list." Pel replied.
"Oh ho! The Fiery Wheat is my favorite place to stay. The rooms are half price compared to most others in the third tier. And the waitress is a real cutie. It's an even better place now that I know I won't run into you there ever again." An older man said as he wandered into the barn.
"Fuck off Bachel. Why are you always the next one here in the mornings? Asuna shouldn't have to deal with you till the last moment." Pel shot back to the man. He walked over to the stall on Asuna's other side. He motioned a standing groom and the NPC jumped to fulfill his task.
Asuna did her best to ignore her lieutenants' argument and instead started equipping her armor. The two of them were always barking back and forth at one another like dogs chained just out of reach. Her gleaming breast plate fitted snugly over her woolen sweater and her leather padding. Iron greaves, vambraces, gauntlets and a skirt of plated mail finished her get up. A tall conical helmet was clutched in her armpit.
"No iron boots again! Asuna, Asuna, Asuna. Why do you never wear armored footwear? Those leather boots might be right comfy but they sure aren't gonna stop someone from chopping your foot clean off," said Bachel. She turned her head and pointed her nose away. They had discussed this every day the past month.
Asuna's had stopped answering since she had decided to ignore him whenever he brought it up. 'It's just too damn cold for iron boots,' she thought.
15 minutes later the barn was filling up with her guild members and her steed ‹‹Yuuki›› was fully saddled and packed. Yuuki was a white courser dappled with several black spots on her hindquarters. Her mane was cropped short and tied with ribbons. The groom had even woven several flowers into it as instructed. Asuna mounted Yuuki and rode through the barn, Pel and Bachel walked their mounts over and the three of them started chatting with the surrounding guild members.
"It's recruitment day fellas, get your armor nice and shiny. Get your grooms' brushing the tails out and don't forget to check the saddles on the right way 'round. These grooms are dumb as rocks sometimes and put 'em on backwards," Bachel's deep voice resonated through the barn and a round of snorts and chuckles answered him back.
"Check your own saddle Bach, looks to be sideways from here," said ‹‹Lockraoch››. A tall, thin, beady eyed teen. His hair was dyed straw yellow and he was one of two people still alive under Pel's command.
"You best take check your own horse Roach, oh wait ya can't even ride him this morning can ya. Whatsit? Three strikes and you're out?" Bachel shot back. A sour look crossed Roach's face and he turned back to his stall ignoring the people laughing around him. Only his stall was empty. Every event Roach's horse was killed and somehow he managed to scuttle his way out of the melee without dying. So he still had to wait the rest of the day before his horse would respawn.
Half an hour later the entire guild was in the barn and ready to go. "Roach, Lemor, Sandles, Titan you four got barn duty today. Anyone comes wandering in and buys a horse you best make them think hard 'bout joining the guild. You know the drill, take a taxi and spread out, one to a barn. Everyone else mount up already!" Bachel rattled off his spiel and turned to see Asuna smiling, while Pel absently ate an apple.
As the guild of twenty prepared to leave Asuna rode to the center of the doorway and looked towards her members. Her smile vanished and everyone quieted down to listen. "Hey guys. We have done a lot in the last month, and yesterday really showcased how much we have improved. Despite that we lost a lot of people yesterday. So make sure you only recruit people who are aware of how dangerous this is. And please, at 6:00pm meet at the ‹‹South Barn››. Bring anyone you recruited and remember to tell them we will be leaving at 8:00am tomorrow morning if they can't come tonight. Alright everyone, do your best today," Asuna spoke quietly.
They were all aware of how dangerous this guild was. The losses they've suffered each event didn't allow anyone to think otherwise. But yet, here they were ready to follow a teenage girl into another month of training and then they will be willing to charge into the maw of death once again when she asks them to.
No one spoke, but everyone nodded to Asuna's words. Silently the guild split off into pairs and cantered back towards Aincrad to ride around the streets all day and try to get new recruits. Since only a single skirmisher still had their horse Pel teamed with them while Bachel tagged along with Asuna.
Out of the barn they came, gleaming armor plates, clinking chain mail, tall lances adorned with banners. Everyone wore a shiny helmet adorned with plumes of feather and hair. The horses were brushed clean and their saddles polished. Freshly shod hooves clinked against the road's flagstone. As if on parade the group marched towards the city in a double column.