I wonder what we're cutting? We really can't afford another fight after where the last one left us, no matter the build we pick. We're a bit weak, right now.
Even possessed of superhuman strength and speed, putting down the wurm was the brutal work of an hour, and digging free of its underground tomb several long minutes more. His wraithflesh was wreathed in sickly-gray acid burns, and the contours of his ghostly outline had grown faint and uneven, but in the end he'd prevailed, reaping a solid bounty of power from his victory. He could only hope that no further monstrosities intercepted him on his way back to the antechamber.
Like I said, not really in the condition for another fight. That was Brutal. ...but probably worth it, all things considered. Well, unless we get the option that shall not be named because Gahhhhhhh! And agreed, Hunger. I really don't want to deal with another fight. We're already weakened by so much and Rage is far less reliable than we expected, so we can't actually rely on it triggering if we get a second unlucky interrupt.
Luck, or perhaps merely the wariness of the Temple denizens, was with him this evening, as he returned to that marble-lined hall without further incident. For all that he was badly injured, it had been a singularly productive day, and in the morning he would be whole and hale again to start anew.
Do these things even have wariness? They seem to attack all other living things on sight! There's a reason we've found the temple utterly devoid of life. Perhaps something sufficiently stronger can intimidate them, though... But we really are at best mid-tier for this place. When at full health.
Still, having the additional forms and the form of healing that provides is good. Though I do think we need some kind of more immediate healing, if we ever get the chance. This version is... awkward. Maw would literally let us still be waltzing around at full health and corporeal, probably.
Hunger made his way past the comforting radiance of the braziers, up to the great gates which barred his way out, and saw that the moon-sign hung upon the steel was nearly filled. He sat down on the unyielding tile, basking in the antechamber's welcoming warmth, and allowed himself to slip briefly into reverie.
Ah, so the gates are on a timer. If it wasn't for Rihaku saying Hunger believes the Anteroom safe I'd be wary, here. This feels like the kind of thing that could be a trap if we approached at the wrong time. A short rest will be enough for the moment, I suppose.
He was torn on whether their coming to this Temple had been a mistake. The inhabitants of this unnatural place were fearsome opponents, well beyond his own level at the start of the day, and it was only by grit, cunning, and the all-killing power of his Blade that he'd prevailed today. Would it be wiser to retreat, despite the impairment of the false moon's Calling, content with the strength he'd gained today?
It was a mistake, but one we shall make the most of. I hope. Still, it would be nice if Hunger would, you know, actually give us the option to leave because this place is terrifying.
Perhaps. But it was not within him to yield so easily. A decade of stubborn insurgency against the Tyrant had seared his psyche with hatred and determination in equal measure. He was fully aware of that, but felt no need to change his essential nature. To give up now merely because the threat was dire would be a refutation of everything he was, the personal legend that comprised his supernal shadow, his much-vaunted "Astral Rank." Faced with a threat like this, he could only rise to the occasion or die trying. To cut through, even if the problem could not be cut.
Unfortunately Hunger isn't the type to back down just because it is ridiculously suicidally dangerous. How did he manage to stand against the Tyrant so long if he was willing to face such long odds? The dice must truly be weighted in his favor. Still, though, this place has immense potential gain for us. The potential cost though... I hope we can stay wary. I really do.
But that did not entail a wholesale rejection of strategic thinking. That he had resolved to finish the matter was one thing; how he chose to go about it was another entirely. In his war against the Tyrant there had been countless fewer sallies than withdrawals, countless fewer triumphs than bitter retreats.
Well, that explains somewhat how he handled the Tyrant. He was mostly fighting retreats where he couldn't yield even if he wanted to. That would do much, for forcing one to decide to never back down unless they absolutely must.
The moon-gauge on the doors had come full. He rose, and raised his hand to the ponderous gates, ring-light blazing. As if in response to his will, deep gears whirring in the walls, the doors opened with a click, revealing the empty plain beyond, bathed in the light of the stars. He stepped out, and the Calling intensified, strobe of the humming with nearly-painful urgency. Grimacing, he put it out of mind and walked forth.
...The door wouldn't have opened if we didn't have the Ring, would it? No wonder the other Adventurer's don't use this door. They'd probably all actually be stuck, and this Anteroom is a trap for all it is safe enough. And the calling makes it known that it really doesn't like us leaving the Temple. Come one, False Moon, let us rest a bit!
Letrizia was parked several kilometers away, in a small outcropping next to a grove of rugged, sinewy trees. She and Gisena were having a mid-evening picnic, ration bars illuminated by campfire and temple-grasped moon.
I'd wonder how he found them, but the answer is obviously his Rank. Though that bodes ill if any of the adventurers know to try to seek us out. They probably could through rank alone.
"You're hurt!" Gisena rose, coming to his side. He'd wrapped himself in the Evening Sky to conceal the worst of his wounds, but perhaps there was no hiding from her Sorcerous sight.
Way to state the obvious, Gisena. It's closer to "We're barely aliveish right now so shhh." Though I suppose it's heartening that Hunger cares enough for his companions in turn he tries to his how injured he is from them. Though honestly the fact he's a wraith at all says the temple-trip did not exactly go smoothly.
"It's manageable," he dismissed, waving off her concern. "More importantly, I'm hungry. Do we have any fish left?"
Not... technically a lie. As long as we don't get any fights by morning we will be fully healed.
"Just a little!" Letrizia said, taking a thin sliver of smoked meat from the picnic basket. She stared at it pleadingly, as if willing it to multiply before her plaintive gaze.
Letrizia, I'm pretty sure you don't have food multiplication magic. Unfortunate, but probably a good thing we didn't take Feast... Or maybe we're in this situation because we didn't. Hmm, this bears considering.
"Barely a mouthful," he scoffed. "Shall we split it?"
Hunger is such an asshole. And nice. Huh. Nice to see them bonding, he really does care!
"Okay!" Letrizia delightedly cut the meat into thirds, quickly swallowing her own portion. She smiled contentedly, luxuriating in the taste. Faintly salivating, a forlorn expression crossed her face as she remembered there was no more.
I like how she greedily goes after her third out of sheer delight for how good that fish is.
"Say aaaah, hun!" Gisena teased, sandwiching her portion between finger and thumb and presenting it to him.
And Gisena continues to tease Hunger. Those two, man.
He raised an eyebrow. "If you're offering."
Hunger, hunger, hunger. You should know better than to rise to her bait.
He ate it swiftly, before she could retract or protest. King fish meat was too valuable to be wasted.
And that's Hunger for ya. Took the teasing bait so he could steal the fish.
Gisena giggled. "So greedy! How do things taste in spirit form?"
That is a good question. I wonder if it depends on the spiritual properties of the food?
"I am called Hunger," he shrugged. "And they taste mostly the same. A bit lighter, more delicate. The ghostflame is replicating the effects of my physical body, or I would be mostly incorporeal."
Interesting, so even as a wraith Hunger is more there than... not. Explains why his phasing is limited and required focus.
You tell him Gisena!
"You're one to talk about powers that are boring, Miss Nullity Sorceress."
Hey! The power to prevent things is not bor... Okay, it kinda is. Awesome, but still boring.
"It's Lady Nullity to you, Lord Hunger!" Playfully she huffed, turning her face. "And I'll have you know, I don't need powers that are wondrous to make something extraordinary!"
Tease, tease, and more tease. Also this is true, Gisena. Your cooking doesn't require wondrous powers, and it is so terrible it is extraordinary!
"I believe you." He said, looking up at the stars. "If we live through this, then someday, you'll make great things."
Hunger hasn't forgotten to keep looking ahead, I see. Good.
"Aww, you!" She hugged his arm, laying her head on his shoulder. "I like this ghostly form of yours. It's much nicer than your real body!"
I don't think he behaves any different, Gisena. Maybe you should see a doctor?
"As you said. I'm vulnerable to dispellation right now."
Ooh, ouch.
Would he be able to build great things as well, one day? Or had the funnel of his experiences shaped him only into a destroyer? It was an illogical fear, now that the power of Progression was open to him. But for some reason he couldn't quite shake it. Even having gained this power, most of what he'd done with it was to make himself a more perfect killer. And if the greater part of that had been necessity, still there'd been the element of desire as well. The power to hurt others was also the power to protect them; that was one lesson of countless that Blade and Tyrant had imparted to him.
Power itself is not a Sin, hunger. Not even the purpose of that power is. It is the purpose you put it to that is good or evil, necessary or unnecessary, etc. You can become what you wish to be, if we can managed to get in line with it, eventually.
Was that enough to justify strength of such magnitude, turned only to the power of murder? In his old Earth they'd feared the power of the atom bomb, a weapon so terrible as to threaten the end of war. Had the weight of that threat succeeded, or had they only destroyed themselves?
Power does not need justification to be had. Why would it? It is a part of you, as surely as your hand and feet. As I already said, it is what you choose to do with that power that decides if you are justified or not.
Half a day ago the giant knights had been peer-level opponents. Now, having killed maybe a dozen of their number, he was their unambiguous superior. That was, as the Accursed had promised, growth beyond his wildest dreams, power beyond all reason, progression without plateaus or bottlenecks, the endless perfecting march against which neither law nor obstacle could stand for long. He was unaccountably lucky to have been chosen, unaccountably graced, but what did it mean for the Accursed to believe that power such as this was appropriate for him?
Indeed. Progression cursebearers are strong beyond imagining. Still, there was a reason the Accursed offered you power. I cannot tell you what it is, because I don't know. But something like that? It has a plan. And if you survive you will play a part. Maybe one day the Accursed will regain enough of himself to do what he meant to do before he was crippled at the start of all this?
The hour was late. His body was weary, be it flesh or ghost. In the embrace of his cloak which mirrored the heavens above, he drifted off, dreaming of sword-light.
Good night, Hunger. And be more careful in the future! You got your flesh body killed largely because you didn't see the knight suddenly turning aggressive coming! Expect that! The Temple hates intruders! And ones with the intent to rescue it's prisoner? Those won't do at all.
----
1010 word.
