It sure would have been helpful to have insight into the Forebear's mindset when facing a guy who appears connected to him. Between the Amarlt family motto apparently being 'pierce through' and the Foremost using findross, I don't know what to believe. This is some tinfoil hat-tier conspiracy theorist shit, I'm a handful of updates from buying a cork board and going to town. When you said the Forebear's legend transcended time and realms, I didn't think it would become relevant so quickly! But for now:

[X] R-Type #1
[X] Preparation: Focus
[X] Preparation: Dialogue [2 Arete]

For someone who reminds me so much of Flame, Vanreir's quite sympathetic. So I'll take a chance on a diplomatic resolution paired with the 'best' combat preparation, the one that 'only' guarantees a moderate condition. Dialogue is impossible at Close of Day. Similarly if we're going to try and disrupt his routine and trip him up with chaos, that can only work with R-Type #1 due to the nature of his Soul Evocation, but conveniently we have allies and easily manipulable blade-projections. Disrupt his rhythm, put our charisma to work breaking his resolve, tarnish his commitment to that immaculate Thrust.

Anyone who remembers Bleach Quest has seen a father empower his son at the cost of his soul. But speaking of Uryū, we ought to see if we can combine the dialogue and battle as we did during the Byakuya fight. To Blood's Ringbearer, Vanreir's failing health is obvious. He's purchasing his sister's admittance with murder and his own life-force, losing the 'natural vigor of his youth' as Hunger did before the recent injuries. But what will be the end result, once the brief Return (the capital-R has implications regarding Once and Future) of the Unerring Blade dissipates with his death? His thoughts are linear, one step at a time. Force him to look ahead, and see the conclusion.

His sister alone among the Inners, inside that blue box of which he knows nothing? He has faith in her, as an elder brother should. But can she survive wolves on the level of full-grown Fairbrights? He'll dispatch his foes Inside 'when the time comes', but how much time and strength does he have left? They've strung him along with promises. Does he truly believe the coordinators are ignorant of his withering when they know every other aspect of his soul, and Thran speaks as though familiar with Vanreir's father?

He has given everything to these people, to this cause, cutting down one interloper after another as First Sword of the Outriders. And yet his father loathed the civilization he wants his sister to rejoin. Vanreir's soul may have merged with Justinan's, but he has forgotten the face of his father. The Bowman derided the R-Types as slaves to the Call of the Temple, but the coercion employed by the Inners is far more insidious: hope and love.

The woman Hunger loves could say it better, were she alive. The Tyrant's chosen heiress turned her back on depredation. Nothing good can come of consigning Erii to what waits beyond the Inner Perimeter, a civilization sustained not just by the suffering of the Ring but that of his own family. Whatever luxuries wait there, it's no paradise. A simple truth: as the twig is bent, so grows the tree.

And finally... I'd hoped to save this, slowly inflate its word count in preparation for some dire day in the future. The Gisena waifu vote or the Noble Praxis, perhaps. But the stakes here are nothing less than survival, so I'll answer Vanreir's total commitment with a Thrust of my own. Time to deploy the strategic reaction reserve:
Paying with the former to gain knowledge of the latter. Seems like a simple transaction.
It had grown late, the sun a wan disk pressed steadily flatter by the vast indigo sky; striated bands of gold shined their last upon fields of susurrant grass, the first breeze of evening low and swift against the ground. The cool, steady wind kicked Hunger's cloak up and around his shoulders, star-stuff dancing in false celebration of the twilight.
This is a splendid liminal moment. If the ritual grounds are this beautiful, I can only imagine what the Inner Temple looks like. The denizens have got to have a way of dealing with the Call, right, so their bargain bin utopia doesn't have a soundtrack of agonized screams? Sounds promising if they try to make us an offer, so we could walk away without the quarter-Rank debuff. But it would have to be a really good offer, the more I learn of these people the less I like them.
Gisena slept fitfully still, unrecovered from her supreme exertion of magic earlier in the day, while he walked steadily towards the antechamber entrance on a road of gently-packed dirt.
No paved roads, but a comfy place when one isn't being ambushed by overgrown earthworms. Gisena's not much of an impediment, but with only one arm Hunger's in an awfully vulnerable position if he has to fight again. He can't wield the Blade properly, carrying her slows him, and she can't cling like a limpet to maintain backpack formation while unconscious. Also, who made this trail? Is it just a desire path that accreted into existence over years of exploration?
On the horizon he spotted the silhouettes of a pair of men also traveling that road - not the spectral knights that guarded this territory, but men of ordinary stature like him, carrying thickly-packed rucksacks that bulged and bristled with miscellany, and dragging behind them a cart piled high with parchments and bottles of dark red liquid. He paused briefly, blinking in surprise, while they sped up eagerly, approaching him.
Huh, this isn't much of a caravan! The description said a party so I'd anticipated a larger bunch of people, maybe with some of the conjured creatures we saw in the encampment for beasts of burden. Maybe they've at least got something worthwhile in those sacks?
"Ho, traveler!" Said the leftmost man, raising the bare stump of an arm in greeting. Cut cleanly, an old wound, and wrapped in tailored cloth.
Interesting, this implies an upper limit to the efficacy of any healing potions offered. Not that we were angling to regenerate our arm without Zweihander, but it tempers expectations a bit. The potions aren't even different colors, can you be proud of your inventory if it doesn't span the entire spectrum? Where are the infrared elixirs, guys?
"Look Graven, it's your kindred spirit!" Said the man on the right. "Only he's not even got a stump, poor sod."
Curious name, engraved or fixed indelibly in the mind. Could be a nickname referring to his wound? Or graven images for something more biblical, alluding to the sigils they bear and possible connections with the Inner Residents.
"He has got a woman though. And what a looker! Didn't know they made 'em that pretty!"
So I know I did quite a bit of arguing for these guys, but the train of disappointment just keeps on chugging. They're not exactly selling themselves as paragons of virtue. Don't they know you've got to build rapport with the customer? Or is that what they think they're doing?
"Nah. Reckon he's stolen her." The man smiled, raising his voice to address Hunger. "Dragging her off 'ta the cave, are ye?"
Well, that's... a greeting? A hint as to the morals or lack thereof these people are working with?
He continued walking steadily forward.
Some shit just doesn't merit a response. Also, I feel like this line of conversation could lead to a Tyrant proc, making it best avoided.
"If we could steal a woman like that in 'ere, what are we doin' with this crap?"

"Never said we could do it, brother. Just that he has." The man tapped the side of his nose conspiratorially. "It's hope for you, right?"
Hopefully he's just giving Graven shit about having no luck with the ladies.
"Ahhhhh... I don't get it."

"Never mind, you dolt. I'll explain it ta ya later. When we gets back."
This makes me morbidly curious about the encampment's culture, it's a strange niche the brothers have crawled into. The residents can't be too thrilled about them, seeing as they sell potions to adventurers. Aiding and abetting moonbrains has to be on the books as a crime of some stripe, inside. But the merchants have lunar sigils and roam the ritual grounds with relative impunity? It seems like they have a cushy deal, but the groundskeeper didn't strike me as the sort who'd so much as cross the street to piss on these two if they were burning to death.
As they neared Hunger finally stopped to speak. "Are you merchants?"

The leftmost man, called Graven, nodded amicably. "Sure are, sir. Don't find many of our like in here, do ya? Our prices ain't the fairest... but they're the best!"
Yeah, they've got themselves a cozy little monopoly.
"The best - and only!" His twin chipped in, holding out a pair of red bottles. "What'll it be, sir? Prime healing pots we've got here, good stock, one hundred percent certifiable!"

"Ya mean certified, you blithering moron."
Certified by, uh, what authority? What kind of ad hoc civilization do you get by mashing together the extremely greedy and altruistic, all bound together by the siren song of the False Moon?
"I mean what I said! Don't interrupt the pitch! Like pa said, the customer's confident if you are confident! I don't need ya underminin' me."

Hunger frowned. The power he'd absorbed from the magus had been slow to 'digest,' and was not finished percolating out from the ring. He had the feeling it would come with some means of accelerated healing, though. Better than 'certifiable' potions, whatever those were.

"Not interested. I would be willing to trade for information, however."

"See!" The merchant threw up his hands at his brother. "It's because ya messed up the pitch."
Sterling examples of brotherly love, these two, each denigrating the other's intellect. Apparently it's a family business? The lost arm makes me think Graven was an adventurer who tapped out of being a moonbrain, but there's likely an upper limit on empathy for anyone who does that. Hanging around and selling stuff inside the Temple not only filters for people capable of surviving, you need to be able to ignore the constant begging for rescue and/or death in the background. Unless the Inners shared whatever mitigation method they've got, but the brothers talk about the Call like they have personal experience later.
Clearing his throat, the man calmed, adopting a more formal tone before continuing. "Ahem. Apologies for that, sir, my brother, he's a bit of an imbecile, and it's not got anything to do with his missing hand. Now, information's what you're after, eh? I think we can come to an arrangement. What do you have to trade, my good man?"

Hunger produced the King Fish's Scale. "I want to know about this Temple. And the encampment to its side."
Apparently Hunger was just carting around the scale? Better that than the melon-sized pearl, these guys are unlikely to take promissory notes.
"I see, I see." The man licked his lips. "That... that is somewhat privileged information, sir. Is there anything else you might be able to offer?"
Classic negotiating tactic, implying reluctance to inflate the perceived value of his entirely-ephemeral goods. If we had ever interacted with the encampment we'd be better able to discern whether he's taking us for a ride by selling common knowledge... but they think Hunger has, which is almost as good.
"Not really." Hunger began to walk off.

"W- wait! I'm sorry, could I see that scale one more time?"

"Fine." He handed it over, and the merchant made a show of examining it in detail.

"Magnificent. This could go for quite a bit to the right seller. Problem is, as you can clearly see, we're hard up for space at the moment," he gestured to their overflowing cart and bags, "so I can't give you much of a premium for it. But for two pieces of information? That sounds fair. A fair price for a fair lord and lady!"
There's always a moment of internal recalibration whenever someone refers to Hunger as attractive. With these jokers it's at least partially an attempt at blowing smoke up the customer's ass, but not totally unsubstantiated given how many people have this reaction? I suppose his appearance is disarming.
"Your brother just said your prices weren't fair."

"Ah!" The man turned a strained smile upon his brother. "A joke, sir. Merely a joke."
Yeah, it would've been better to go with the brutes. At least their amiability wouldn't be false and we'd have a chance at actual brotherly banter, rather than this fratricide in slow motion.
"Fine. First question. I killed a magus today. He was fairly powerful. He could teleport and summon spirits, and wore a cloak of white and blue. He called this place 'the ritual grounds.' Describe the geography of this place. Is there some civilization deeper in the Temple? If so, what is their purpose?" Hunger showed them a scrap of the Magus' robe, now stained dark red, on which the white-and-blue insignia was inscribed.
That's a charitable gloss on the fight, but Hunger gains nothing by advertising how close a call it was. Wonder what the insignia looks like?
"Ah," The man paled. "Y-you slew a magus, you say? I, I see."

He gulped, slowly tapping the side of his face. "Well, my esteemed lord-"
Is the tapping some kind of code? If this is obfuscating idiocy on the part of the brothers, they're doing a good job of it.
"Don't call me that."
Hey, he elected to be called Lord Hunger, not that they're aware of that. He has been weening Letrizia off of the title, though. It's one thing to decide that in the heat of the moment because you want to merge yourself with an artifact of unfathomable power, another to be called that in casual conversation and lament your inability to sink into the earth. Though I suppose Second Stage might enable that.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry. Well, my fine sir, the short answer to your question is, yes. There is a society that lives within the bowels of this fine edifice, exploiting the False Moon to defend and supply their way of life, and they do not take kindly to intruders. But the Call of the False Moon brings all and sundry forward to liberate it! There's a fundamental tension here, you see. From us, who've come from all over to liberate the False Moon, and they who live by its unwilling labor. I'm sure you've felt it yourself, the Call. How irresistible it can be! The poignancy of its suffering, the allure of power and treasure beyond the reckoning or mortal men..."
Should be of.

Finally, actual answers! We probably should have guessed some of this just from the quality of the groundskeeper's robes, it implies infrastructure and a uniform. I did think it was strange that he could be the one we rescued the beset party from, but didn't fully parse the implications. Interesting stuff; the Magus is one of the beneficiaries of the False Moon's slavery and he wielded Soul Evocation. The options offering that to us have all been moon-themed: Winter Moon, Azure Moon, and so on. Will we regret not snagging Soul Evocation if we reach its prison? Would access to it open up diplomatic opportunities with the Inner Residents? He did seem to hold warriors in contempt, though the curve of our Progression's far steeper than any mere quadratic wizard.
"What is the False Moon? Can it do anything besides issue the Call? Is it responsible for the maps?"

"Ah, a subject of much debate! As none of us has ever successfully liberated it, or even approached the holding chamber, we simply don't know. I personally have never ventured past these ritual grounds, and am not certain why the Inner Residents call them such! It's a competitive task, chasing the Call, and those capable of penetrating to the Middle Temple are understandably canny about its secrets. If you were able to slay an Inner Resident yourself, however, I can confidently say you are ready to plumb its secrets!"
It's probably responsible for the maps, ours dissolved when exposed to daylight, though that implies some weird constraints. Maybe there are moon-partisans among the Inners who smuggle out hints, working to sabotage their civilization or something. And we didn't exactly slay the magus solo, Gisena just happened to hard counter him and wiped out all his preparations, never allowing him to build up to his full potential. So that's not exactly a ringing endorsement of our readiness to explore the Middle Temple.
"You're stationed at the encampment near the side entrance."

"That's right, sir! You may have seen us when you came in. Might I ask what brings you to the Temple in the first place, sir? Seeking fame, fortune, items of power or simple adventure?"

"You can ask, if I can have the Scale back."
Good answer, the only better one I can think of is 'the Call'. True and totally useless! In retrospect, that bit of Rank intuition we got on reading the map was probably the soft first touches of its influence.
As he responded, Hunger thought carefully. Best not to let on that he hadn't come in through the encampment, which meant that line of questioning had to be dropped.

"Ah! Good one, sir. I didn't mean to pry."
They really amped up the respect once we showed them the robe, huh? They're oleaginous in general, wish we'd wound up interacting with the brutes or beset party instead. Even Gabrielle would've been interesting, if headache-inducing. The information these two offer barely redeems the unpleasantness of getting it from them. I'm sure Hunger has dealt with worse and will again, they're not evil or anything, or even noteworthy enough to provoke more than distaste. This is just the conversational equivalent of stepping on a Lego.
"Any other tactically or strategically relevant information I should know about the Middle Temple? How do I get there?"

"Ah, yes. Right now the road we're traveling is on what you might call the latitudinal, or horizontal axis of the space within the Temple. If however you were to traverse the longitudinal, or vertical axis," He pointed to the side, perpendicular to the road and in the opposite direction of the antechamber, "and braved the Knights and other monstrosities along the way, you'd eventually reach the Middle Temple! You can tell because the landscape will shift rapidly, in a matter of a few miles."
Simple, despite the architectural monstosity the Temple appears as from the outside. Just keep going straight and survive, we'll get there eventually? Maybe the Middle Temple's got more cerebral challenges.
"Thanks. And what should I expect? Inner Residents, more automated knights, monsters of a different kind?"
He thanked them, who says Hunger's lacking in social graces? Well, other than Gisena, who admittedly has an advantage in the Grace department.
The man shook his head helplessly. "I'm sorry, sir. It's as I said earlier. Those who make it that far tend to be pretty competitive. They're tight-lipped about those secrets. Only one may claim the False Moon's prize, after all."
"There can be only one," eh? Classic Highlander bullshit, check. The Prize better not be something horrible like 'mortality' that places the whole game firmly in 'not worth the candle' territory.
"What about the monsters here? I've seen the Knights, some bird-like creatures, a stone lion and an enormous fanged wurm. Anything I should be worried about?"
Good to get information about what Hunger's been killing off-screen, the stone lion reminds me of Ranya's Nightmare from Terrascape. The Megalith's a great concept in general, but that dungeon delving experience and sequence of fights in particular was top-tier. Ranya's interlude is one of my favorite updates in any quest; the loyalty to her friends, the personal struggle with the Expropriator, questioning the nature of her reality? For a character who appeared in only a couple of updates, I really grew to empathize with her.
They looked at each other. "Well, there is the Dreadbeast, sir. He's only in a few places at a time, though, and if you could handle a Resident then I doubt he'd be a match for you. Would depend on your specific, ah, parameters..."
Ah, I see. If he's only a few places at a time, there's nothing to worry about, right? Intelligent enough not to be called it too, that's great. Man, just fuck the Temple in general.
Hunger stared silently at him.

"Well," the man looked around nervously. "Sorry I couldn't help you more, sir. Was there anything else, anything at all? Sure I can't interest you in a potion, or perhaps a night at Librero's for yourself and your fine lady?"
Sounds comfier than a gave, but literally getting a room? No way we're giving Gisena that kind of rhetorical ammunition. I'm interested in the buffing potions they supposedly have, but it doesn't seem like Hunger shares that sentiment. Suizhen might be down to get scammed and Nameless would enjoy introducing these fine gentlemen to the concept of multi-level marketing, but Hunger's done with this.
He gestured to the cart behind. Hunger pondered for a moment. Was there anything he needed from these men?
If they've got food? Yeah, I do at least want to bring back something for Letrizia, since we said we'd try. That should be compatible with whatever option wins, if the brothers have room for that much parchment (why so much of the stuff, anyway? Doesn't seem combat-relevant) they could have snacks too. You can make a mint selling mints in the right place!

1620 words.
Is this a JoJo Tennyson reference?! Nature, red in tooth and claw, all that good stuff. Hunger's purview encompasses both blood and war, the striving for vitality and victory characteristic of all vigorous things, so it fits. The Ring of Blood's definitely got less chill than its counterpart the Truth, but I'm down to explore deep ring-lore as long as we live long enough to sink our teeth into it.

Since the message at the end of the update mentions Patreon, that could be an interesting stretch goal? EFB had rings that were only touched on in passing: Lore, Severity, and so on. It'd be neat to learn more, both about them and their associated Ages and Overlords, explore hypotheticals like what the Ring of Grace might do. If you offer 'deep lore', don't be surprised if we ask about the ring thereof! Also down to pledge, though that probably goes without saying.
"Was there anything else, anything at all?"

Hunger paused, then glanced at their cart full of potions.

"Yes, actually..."

He loomed over them menacingly -
So, this cutoff? Very concerning! There are a couple ways to read this. At the end of Coin and Realm Hunger wonders whether he needs anything from the pair, which in retrospect makes it seem like he's considering mugging or murdering them? For their lunar sigils, the loot in general, for their affiliation with the Inners (though this was before the Ring revelation), for their general skeeviness, any number of possible reasons. Though it feels out of character, for him to do that as an alternative to Come Clean? We also weren't apprised of anything added to our inventory. Door number two's a Tyrant proc. Have to say, I prefer Odyssial's on-screen, optimized Limit Breaks to the nebulous fade to black.
At last they arrived without incident at the antechamber. The thrum of the ring on his finger had only intensified all the while, as if struggling to process the enormity of the Magus' powers. But as he crossed the threshold from field to hallway, the black mythril of the ring's outer band begin to slowly flake off. Like tarnish departing silver it gently discorporated, shimmering droplets of pure void that one-by-one winked out in the heavy light of the braziers. What remained was a lighter band of grey, delicate but unyielding, like silver hammered into being from the smoke of the forge itself.
Right, 'without incident'. That's all right then, nothing to worry about. Except those words were actually edited out later. Anyway, this is a neat visual, it turns out our Ring's got a final form too! Truly a match made in the heaven Hunger will one day put to the sword. The lost mythril coating's a bit of a shame, though if the Trio's armor's anything to go by it's not unique to Hunger's previous world, but giving way to silver - the metal representing purity - is sweet symbolism.
Following it the upper band of red also began to change, flecks springing together like unspilling liquid, become now a single jewel the color and shimmer of freshly congealed blood, yet cut as exquisitely transparent as any ruby he'd ever seen.
Exsanguination in reverse, leading to coalescence. A fitting transformation sequence for the Ring of Blood. The end result's shaped similarly to Nameless', seems like the solitaire ring format might be the 'proper' form?
He felt power thrum and course through the newly awakened form of the ring, a presence of unbelievable density and fury, supernova force compressed into a blister, sheer terrible intensity before which the world cowered and went limp. It felt as if the walls around him were folding like wax, himself and the ring the only real things in this brief painter's dream of a world.
This reminds me of moments like Aurelia flaring Majesty and Aizen's bankai: "It is the world that has become insubstantial, relative to me." This is the power of Rank, raw supernal might, the tyranny of the ideal imposing itself on the merely real. Word choice only enhances the sanguine themes, the singularity's referred to as a blister and power's coursing through the band.
No. Violently he shook his head. No, not "himself and the ring." That was an impossibility, for he himself was the Ring, its essence and its master, their wills and spirits one! He felt the words of its true inscription like a brand upon his mind, words terrible and bright as the noonday sky spilling into the forever-darkness of a sunless deep:
We've gone full Sauron, conflating our existence with that of the Ring, but swept away by the magnitude of the moment I can't bring myself to regret it.
Awaken now, O Hunger ring; from blackest myth abjure:
thy band once stained, now un-profaned, to shine forevermore;

O Ring of Blood, O Ring of War, thy tide of battle fades;
cast down Their thrones in crimson gloam, unfurling of thine Age!
This verse was present in the text of the option we just chose, so seeing it here's not a surprise. But crimson gloam? As in twilight? That sure is a suspicious coincidence, if that's the true inscription of the Ring and not something engraved in this moment by Hunger's own choices. The blackest myth being abjured's clearly the Tyrant's legend, represented here by the dark mythril evaporating, ending with an oblique reference to our enemies. 'Their' infosec's good, if we're getting a Capitalized Pronoun in place of an official title like the Fates or Seasons even in this moment. Speaking of capitalized words, Age is giving me EFB flashbacks. Are Ages just something Rings of Power naturally do? Or does the causal chain run in the other direction?
Reality snapped back into focus around him. He was panting, ashen sweat streaking his features, feeling at once hollow and yet inestimably greater, as if he'd consumed all inner reserves in the ascension to a higher state of being. Gently he set Gisena down and examined the band on his finger and its new red-brilliant jewel.
With the Beyond/FB/EFB trichotomy of advancements no longer being called that and upgrades coming in the wake of victories, I'd kind of lost sight of what Arete expenditures represented. But anything that we spend 7 Arete on is... objectively pretty impressive? Calling back a departed echo of an enemy's power, weaving a mantle from the Evening Sky? Awakening the true nature of a Ring of Power? This is every bit as impressive as Nameless' BP-fueled ingenuity.
The knowledge came to him unprompted and instantly, for he was the ring and it could be no other way. This was the true face of the Ring Hunger, which the Tyrant had failed to ever awaken: the Heart-Ring, Battle-Brand, the Ring of Fury, Ambition's Grip. Its dominion was Blood, the true and concerted essence of all vigorous things, and the breadth of its power was wide as all things that had ever lived or breathed or drawn upon its namesake.
Well, this is gratifying. On reading the preview I'd assumed the Tyrant was the one to add the mythril exterior as a method of mastering the Ring, suborning it to his own legend. But that's not the case, we just surpassed the work of his centuries of life in less than half a month. Such is the power of Progression... and Arete expenditure. The epithets are interesting too, implying an extensive reservoir of legends in the Ring's past, that the rabbit hole of our previous world goes deeper than we imagined. But Ambition's Grip? An appropriately hubristic title, given the other artifact that claims that name.
The Call of the Temple was gone. He felt now only its message clarified, and understood why the ring had taken so long to 'digest' the Magus in particular.
Sadly this isn't sufficient to remove the debuff beyond its environs, but I'm optimistic that Ruling Ring'll take care of that. Why wield Narya when the One Ring could be ours?
He could steal aspects of his fallen enemies, but only through the lens of one of his artifacts, and the ring's vast dominion over blood had been the most similar of its facets to the wizard's esoteric mastery. The Magus had been mightier than he or Gisena knew; were it not for the fact that Gisena's own powers were the perfect counter, they would have faired extremely poorly in a direct contest. But a surfeit of power was not why the newly-empowered ring had slumbered until he stepped across the threshold. No, the Temple's interior, its grassy fields and lands beyond, were the domain of another ring, already awakened, which had automatically suppressed its rival until he passed beyond the sphere of its influence.
I would've worried for our future exploits if the ring started suffering from bandwidth limitations this early! But this is interesting, it makes sense that the Call would latch onto our ring and that domain mitigation works both way, blunting its appeal somewhat. What's the nature of the Imprisoned Ring, though? I suppose a specific celestial body's not any stranger than war or blood, and I'm hardly going to complain about more Moon in the world, but it could be a more complex concept. Revisiting the Call, you'd expect that the satellite responsible for tides would be able to exert influence like this, drawing adventurers in with its gravitational pull. We even found the map underwater! The best kind of revelation's when you can see that you had the clues all along, and this one's elegant... but we can expect nothing less of a Moon.
A rival Ring, yes. In some regards, an enemy. But the thought of leaving it to suffer was nearly unbearable to him. In all the wide universe there were only a few existences such as they, and to see a worthy opponent in so wretched a state was deeply disturbing to him.

In the end it was a simple question. If anyone had sought to do the same to him, enslaved him and driven him to the uttermost limits of his forbearance, for their own inscrutable purposes, would he want to be rescued? Yes, and avenged besides.
Hunger retains a lot of empathy for someone who's been carpet-bombed by life at every turn. I'd attribute this more to the psychological alterations inherent in declaring that he is the ring and vice versa, though. It's a shortcut to the symbiosis of man and artifact promised by high levels of Accretion, but he's viewing the Imprisoned Ring as an entity in its own right even without a Ringbearer. Not 'the only two of their kind', but something close enough for Governance work. That's not wrong, per se, it's certainly capable of suffering in its current state. Just something to keep in mind.
Now, he thought, closing his eyes, feeling the blood pumping through his body. What else had accompanied the revealed form of his ring? If he concentrated, he could feel the location and qualities of his own blood, or of those he focused on. Gisena's was laced with a semi-physical substance, a not-quite-energy that infused each of her cells, likely the basis of her Sorcerous powers.
Time for science? I'm always up for Manifest Realmbuilding, even at the cost of Gisena interactions. Doesn't look like we can directly interface with findross yet, but man would Metaphysical Amplitude have been broken as hell had Seram taken it. Suppressing enemy Graces, laughing off Elven Runes, even inducing artificial Coalescence at high levels of skill.
As for himself, on the purely physical level his blood seemed quite ordinary. The strength augmentation of the Forebear's Blade was entirely metaphysical in nature, a conceptual imposition rather than the alteration of material properties. Both Gisena's augmentations and his own could be heightened or dimmed by the Ring of Blood, enhancing the magnitude of their effect. Whatsoever qualities existed in the blood, he could enhance or diminish - even an ordinary human, for whom the blood still carried the vital essence of life, could be so elevated, for the purview of the Ring was not merely corporeal blood cells, but concerted essence itself, in all vigorous forms.
There's a lot of potential here if we can eventually attack the problem of enhancement from both angles, not just calling down ever-greater fractions of the Forebear's might but enhancing the substrate the imposition's acting on.
There were more applications than this, accelerated healing perhaps the most relevant, though the shape of his influence did not seem to extend to direct hemokinesis. It was a rather more abstract, almost spiritual thing: the blood of his enemies quailing before him, his own blood surging with vigor. Unbleeding wounds, near-limitless stamina, moderate regeneration in combat time, and other applications besides. On longer timescales, greater applications presented themselves, the permanent augmentation of entire species and domains - or, if he so willed it, the reverse.
Will the thread have the will to use such capabilities, I wonder? There's been some speculation about attacking the Knight-Commander through his legions, so that's cause for optimism. But yeah, direct hemokinesis is a crapshoot compared to mastery of what blood represents. If Hunger ever somehow visits EFB's setting he'll have a field day. The final form of Tyranshal's Distillation's similar to the ring's themes, blurring the border between Blood and Essence.
But that was in the future. Now, today, the task before him was simple. Rescue the rival ring, or bring its suffering to an end. And what could he now do to further that task? Directly attacking his enemies through their blood? He could likely stop the heart of an ordinary mortal, or anyone similarly unshielded, with a single gesture.
Useful, but not as useful as Blademight would've been, everyone worth half a damn's going to be shielded against save-or-die effects by Rank. But it's hard to imagine Blademight being a more dramatic sequence, though maybe I'm underselling the gravitas of regenerating an arm and awakening some of the Forebear's martial capabilities.
No enemies around to test that on, of course. He played with his own blood for a moment, intensifying its positive qualities, feeling his body and spirit come alive with boistrous health. A few trial movements confirmed that his strength and reflexes well exceeded their previous maximums. Idly he attempted to restore his amputated arm and eye, flushing the area with purifying blood, but while the wounds tingled promisingly, no regeneration was yet to be had. A longer-term project, perhaps.
That's promising, I wonder if there's a bonus for complete restoration, something like EFB's Form of Balance? Who am I kidding, there are bonuses hiding around every corner, as Letrizia's line later on proves.
He looked out around the antechamber. The comforting warmth of the braziers made it easy to stay, this neutral zone between the Ring-Prison and the Wandering Realm outside. If only Verschlengorge could fit, he would have recommended Letrizia park her steed here as well.
Yeah, it's curious that the antechamber's outside the Imprisoned Ring's influence. What a strange confluence of circumstances, that someone whose Soul Evocation is the Imprisoner could end up as an agent of liberation...
Reasonably confident in the basic functions of his Blood dominion, he performed a basic enhancement on Gisena. Her face flushed and she gasped awake, rising swiftly to her feet.
That was fast, I was envisioning more experiments. But hey, Hunger's of the 'let's just do it and be legends' school of thought.
"My, hun. You're making my heart pound!"
It's not called the Heart-Ring for show!
"I do have that effect on people," he said blandly. "How are you feeling?"
I suppose Hunger could technically claim that title for himself? It can't be more embarrassing than being called Lord Hunger.
She looked down at her hands, green eyes flickering. "Wonderful, if I do say so myself. I but voiced my concerns and you found a way to enhance me! A girl could get used to treatment like that..."
Even when she just spent time resting she can't give it a rest.
"Wholly unintentional, consider yourself lucky that I received such a power from the Magus."
We're lucky that we received anything other than a quick death from the Magus, honestly.
"So it's the universe that's on my side? Good to know!" She winked at him and took his arm. They began the slow walk to Letrizia's campsite, but the conversation did not let up.
If the universe is taking sides, it's not going to be on ours. We have to place our faith in our sword-arm and the being who chose us.
"So, tell me how it works! Something to do with the blood, right?"
Yeah, the magesight continues to be useful. She can see his power at work, but Hunger can only sense findross in her bloodstream, where its presence overlaps with his domain.
He explained the details of the Ring's power and the Temple's true nature as they traveled. Gisena was very interested in the exact mechanics of his blood augmentation, but he had few answers for her.

"The source all our Sorcerous Graces is a semi-corporeal substance called findross. That's probably what you're seeing. In my realm humans produced it naturally. I still do, as far as I can tell," she explained.
Man, I remember when Pieia threatened to kill Seram for so much as hearing a hint of this. Guess there's no call to maintain infosec now. This could be an interesting avenue of research; if in the course of reshaping our people into the Dúnedain we make them findross-positive, as Manifest Realm humans are, would we indirectly terraform the Human Sphere? Research into Grace-enhancements might pay dividends down the road, but I don't want to split our focus.
"I'm not improving the actual density of findross," he replied, "So any effects that rely on reaching a specific threshold of the substance are unlikely to work. It's closer to say that your blood grants you energy, it makes you active, vigorous, healthy and alive, superhuman blood moreso than most, and those are the traits I'm enhancing."

She giggled. "Well, it's good to be alive! So, fearless leader, what's tomorrow's plan?"

"We're going to push further. I've been told that the grasslands give way to a region called the Middle Temple. It's supposed to be quite dangerous. Sure you can keep up?"

"Well," she said airily. "Right now I feel like I can take on the world! So, realistically, it's likely I'll barely be able to perceive what's going on in battle. But that's about where I was today as well, and we did quite well! Looks like I'm keeping up with your growth curve, my lord!"
A temporary state of affairs, though the blood-buffs are admittedly convenient. Would be better if we had a larger party or some other teammate who explicitly draws strength from their lineage, but eh. I wonder how much of an effect nobility has on Hunger's enhancements, it seems thematically appropriate for the ring to care about that sort of thing. Would Letrizia benefit more than your average citizen? For that matter, how prestigious is the Artriez family name? If we'd spend more time talking to her, we might know!
"It's 'Captain' to you."

"Oh, are you sure? How about Your Majesty? Or maybe... Master?"
Majesty?! Who the hell do you think we are, some Elven Mary Sue?
"You really are insufferable."
My thoughts exactly. Shame is not a dump stat, Gisena!
"Your own fault," she blew him a kiss. "Could have just left me to sleep in peace, but you missed my company too dearly! Oh, I wasn't too heavy for you, was I?"

"I will admit. The spiritual burden weighed on me."
I choose to believe we got the last word in and Gisena didn't verbally suplex Hunger right after this.
Letrizia was eagerly awaiting their arrival, greeting them with an egg-based ration cooked over her campfire.

"Hey guys! Try this, it's great. I added some pepper powder and a secret ingredient!"
Spicy scrambled eggs are tasty, good on Letrizia for keeping herself occupied and us fed. This is preferable to returning to ration bars!
Luckily she was a reasonable cook, nothing at all like Gisena, and the food was very palatable. More importantly, with the new powers of his ring, he was able to resolve her burns fully in a matter of minutes, enchanted blood accelerating her recovery while his ghostflame ensured she healed faultlessly and without scar. As she healed, he explained the details of his recently acquired abilities, hoping that she would have insight into whether this method would be viable for Veschlengorge itself.
A nice and totally unintentional synergy, little did we know that our parsimonious, Arete-saving ways would unlock this. At least Letrizia's getting her money's worth (not that she's paying us yet) from our excursions into the Temple. Hunger exits with new abilities every time he enters: healing for her, partial restoration of Verschlengorge, etc.
"Your powers are really spooky," Letrizia said, feigning shock.

"Oh? How so?" It was good that the girl had grown more comfortable with both him and Gisena lately. She hardly stuttered at all now.

"Well," she said, ticking off her fingers, as she went, "You can turn into a ghost, have a phylactery like a lich, and now can control blood like a vampire! And you have the super-strength and toughness of a zombie, you're like a super-juggernaut undead chimera!"
Not where I thought this was going! Hunger's powers are pretty terrifying if you stop and think about them. Gisena commented on his increase in speed but being literally carried's not necessary to notice that Hunger is growing fast. Romus gave serious consideration to murdering Seram for the good of the world after witnessing the Sun King in action. What happens if someone here perceives Hunger as a nascent threat? At least we don't have the Plenary Brand. That was a cool Curse, but in conjunction with the Apocryphal? No thanks.
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "I think someone's been watching too much anime. And that last one's a bit of a stretch. How many zombies actually have super strength of that magnitude?"
There was Typhoid from TCMM, though he was more of a fungus than a disease-ridden zombie. Still, being compared to a lich is a high compliment! We did start this journey by surviving our destined death, Hunger's risen from the metaphorical grave if nothing else.
"A-am not!" Letrizia huffed. "Those are all in normal movies as well. 'S not my fault I get bored being all alone and waiting here..."
Stutter's not quite gone, but she'll get there. But what is this... strange, fuzzy feeling coming from my chest cavity?
"Aww!" Gisena came around and hugged her. "It's all right, Zea! We'll be quick, and done with the Temple before you know it!"
Unless of course the Inners decide to supplement their setup with another ring, in which case our agonies will be legend! Just, you know, floating possibilities here.
"It's not like I'm lonely or anything!" Letrizia protested. "T-this is nothing compared to some operations I've been on. It's just kind of boring, that's all! Usually if I'm watching a point for a stakeout or lying in ambush I still have to pay attention. Now I just deal with the few Astral denizens that bother attacking Verschlengorge and sit in my cockpit reading. It's actually pretty nice, so absolutely don't compromise the mission for my sake! Your safety is far more important than my entertainment. Um, b-because you're my bodyguards and all..."
Oof. What kind of parenting has Letrizia received that she accepts being left outside to wait for days with a stiff upper lip? The Asuka comparisons are honestly undeserved, she's much more mature and professional. But for once I empathize with Gisena, I just want to give Letrizia a hug and tell her everything's gonna be daijobu.
"Of course." He patted her gently on the head. "Like you said. We'll take our time. I'm confident we'll finish this century."
We'd better finish inside the next week-and-change if we want to do so at all, the Temple will become even more of a deathtrap once the Apocryphal Curse kicks back into gear. So hurry, Hunger, but remember to protect Letrizia's smile in the process. If you and Gisena vanish into the Temple, never to return, that'd make for one depressing epilogue.

2074 words.
Two updates with red titles in a row. I'll try not to read too much into it, though we've certainly embraced the Transcendent Shounen Murderhobo archetype. Hunger's attending the school of hard knocks and if he makes it metaphorical graduation, he'll be a force to be reckoned with. Anyway, the meaning of the title seems clear. Hunger barely fends off his attackers, who are just outriders fending off an incursion into their home. Both sides believe themselves justified, which is hardly rare but usually messy.
With the onset of a new morning, they set out once more. Hunger set a fierce pace through the grassy plains of the Outer Temple in an effort to reach the Middle.

"You're energetic today!" Gisena commented, walking by his side. They cut through divisions of Knights and stone monsters, pushing directly forwards with implacable speed. "Why not stop to smell the roses? Maybe hunt down some of the stragglers?"
Sorry, the zest for life imparted by the ring doesn't extend to that level of lassitude. Hunger doesn't even sleep in! Man, Might's Repose has proven way less relevant than Feast of Lives would've been, we can't afford to waste Apocryphal-free time maintaining the buff and the growth-rate's invisible on the scale we're concerning ourselves with.

That Gisena is suggesting supplementary grinding sprinkles salt into the wound of Hunt Into Evening's defeat. I guess she's concerned about our well-being, wants us to bulk up before throwing ourselves into the latest meat-grinder? It would've been nice, but the thread elected to open an empty mystery box with her name on it.
He shook his head. "They're too weak now. It would take me thousands of kills to receive any noticeable benefit."

"Aw, is it all about the power? I thought you liked killing monsters."
Everything's about power to some degree, it's the ultimate arbiter of relevance in this and every world. I'm not sure Hunger enjoys killing monsters, the better phrasing would that he likes monsters being dead. Extensive experience just means he's adapted to find the intermediary exertions satisfying.
"I don't mind it. But every moment wasted, the Imprisoned Ring suffers further. I've resolved to do it, so I'd like to finish as soon as possible."

"And yet you told Letrizia otherwise. What happened to taking our time?"

"That was only so she wouldn't worry."

"So you admit we're doing something she would worry about?"

"...Ahem. I won't tell if you won't."

"Well, you did give me this wonderful blood enhancement. I guess we'll call it even!"
This is a poor decision, what if Hunger and Gisena both die and Letrizia's left waiting there because they said they'd take their time? Despite some cute moments, Letrizia's not actually a child, she's an adult trusted to operate solo with one her civilization's superweapons. She shouldn't be left out of the loop to spare her peace of mind. The sentiment's admirable, but the result's wrongheaded.
"Perform like you did against the Magus and I'll consider it."

She laughed. "Am I not always the shining apex of performance? Or the crushing void of it, if you prefer that type of Nullity."
Gisena flirts with humility as she freely as she does Hunger, but I'm sensing some commitment issues in the relationship.
The Middle Temple, as it turned out, was cleanly delineated by a towering range of mountains, tempest-laden spines of snow-capped stone that ringed the entire region. Knights and stranger monsters patrolled the few viable passes, but obstacles of this level were only a middling concern for Hunger now, and they made their way through with efficient speed, hampered more by the narrowly winding paths than any serious opposition.
Euclidean geometry must be off cowering in a corner somewhere. The Temple exterior's a literally sky-scraping edifice, but the world within's as rife with space-warping bullshit as anything in the Voyaging Realm. We're a Fisherman, so Tower of God comparisons are obligatory, but I'd make one here regardless. Is this is a similar situation to the eponymous Tower, where each floor's vast but ultimately finite, with an illusory ceiling? Somehow I'm not getting that vibe here, but inquiring minds want to know: what happens if the Inners start a space program?
"You got this ability just in time!" Gisena commented, cheeks flushed with warming blood, her breath frosting before her. She rubbed her hands together, maintaining circulation. "Traversing this terrain un-boosted in a dress wouldn't have been much fun."
Yeah, about the dress, is that an artifact? It's stayed suspiciously clean and whole despite Gisena roughing it in the wilderness and getting shot that one time. My guess is that Manifest Realm artifice works by inducing Coalescence in a prospective artifact, making it more like what it should be. An interesting if unpredictable process.
"Some shining apex you are," he replied. "Didn't you already possess superhuman fortitude?"

"Sure, but that doesn't mean it's enjoyable to rely on." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Hey, we can go faster if you carry me, right? Let's do that. It'll be warmer too."

"If you insist."
Magus fight aside, we're already metaphorically carrying her, so why not do it literally too.
They arrived at the Middle Temple in such a state, the howling crags giving way to a lush valley of green, fields irrigated by the crystal-clean mountain streams. Unlike the Outer Temple, this land was clearly settled; well-crafted hamlets with colorful gardens dotted the valley, yeoman plowing crops in donkey-driven carts while their children frolicked carelessly along the dirt-packed roads.
I'm disappointed with their lack of technology. If you're going to build Omelas, grow a utopian civilization from the seed of a single entity's suffering, surely you can do better? Cart-driving's a respectable profession, but where are the fantasticial beasts of burden? The supernatural amenities? This is not a land of milk and honey, it's just a better-protected version of the life Hunger saw on the way to the Temple. Perhaps the Inner Temple's more impressive. Still, this explains why the merchants said people who returned from the Middle Temple are 'canny' about its secrets, there's not much glory to be had fighting farmers. That or they're on the take, which seems like it might be depressingly common.
"A far cry from the murderous outer regions," Gisena said, looking over his shoulder. "These people..."

"Yes," he replied. "And yet all this is built on the torment of the Ring. We won't hurt anyone who doesn't try to stop us. But I will free it from its unending torture. That isn't negotiable."
Yeah, let's just put that morality debate to bed now, so far I don't see anything explicitly running on the Ring's power. If their leaders permitted it, these people could live outside the Temple without too much upheaval. With the Apocryphal Curse and Verschlengorge presence, our view of the Voyaging Realm's dangers is distorted, but most of it's not a deathworld.
"Hey." Gisena squeezed him gently. "You don't need to justify yourself to me. This makes you a bit uncomfortable, right? You're used to fighting on behalf of the people. But wherever you decide to lead, I'll be by your side. Always."

"I appreciate that. But..."
It's one thing to say so much for ideals and heroism, another to live by the words. Hunger having reservations speaks well of his character; that he proceeds despite them speaks well of his conviction. Still, this is a strange and premature sentiment from Gisena. The word 'always' isn't something you say lightly to an Indentured Cursebearer; she's not even immortal yet.
"Why?" She laughed. "Don't ask me to explain it. Just a feeling, I suppose. How would you ever manage without me?"
Pretty well, since the dichotomy's not 'Gisena or nothing' it's 'Gisena or a different Lesser Remittance'. The mitigation's nice, but hasn't helped much so far. The month of satiety after the pirate's death and weeks of Apocryphal freedom from the Temple are all Hunger's doing. In hindsight I could go for an Intensified Scepter build, we've had too many close brushes with death.
"A feeling, huh."

"Hmm? A genius isn't allowed to have an intuitive feeling? Besides, it's a pretty good deal for me! I've already gotten one free power-up out of it..."

"How self-interested of you."
Well, if Gown wins she'll have gotten an expensive powerup out of it too. Is this intuition something triggered by the thread selecting her as a companion? The Accursed wouldn't have adjusted her loyalty and neither of them know of her Remittance status in-character.
"When a genius does it, it's called enlightened self-interest! Speaking of which, I wonder if they sell dresses around here? We'd need a source of findross to make it as durable as this one, but maybe you can use my blood as a dye..."
Huh, that's clever, with enough regeneration they could employ Plumed Offering tactics to obtain a steady stream of findross-saturated materials. But using blood as dye promotes Gisena means our artists would have to change designs.
"Well. They'll need some means of making ends meet once we take out the basis of their civilization."
Sufficiently advanced optimism is indistinguishable from hubris.
"Awfully confident, aren't you? Good, because we've got incoming from the middle distance. Looks like they're using a similar category of magic as the magus we killed."
That's as-expected, Soul Evocation unlocks being routed through the Evening Sky with moon-themed names is another hint made clear in hindsight.
That could mean anything. He sprinted forward into the town, hoping that would deter them. If not, he would move past the small hamlet-square and into the wide fields on the far side before engaging. He hoped they would hold some concern for collateral damage and do the same.
Yeah, I feel your pain there, fighting Soul Evocation users doesn't really - allow for much prep, beyond maybe stocking up on magic resistance?
Townsfolk gawked as he passed, a barely-visible blur of motion. Arrows of gold and crystallized light feathered his wake, the incoming fire of whatever patrol they'd attracted. Some missed only by millimeters. A few struck true, but sprang easily off the Evening Sky, depleting its powers only slightly.
I miss Uryū, it was fun being the sniper. Initiative isn't an advantage to be ceded lightly, but most of our builds were melee-oriented and our stealth's merely good. At least we have better ranged capabilities than the Muscle Wizard? We balked at King of Thieves but have consistently avoided picking up conventional magic.
He wove into the tall stalks of the crop fields, but the trail of arrows followed him doggedly. Gisena, positioned safely under his cloak and swathed in its swirling embrace, fired back with vigorous bolts and scything waves of Nullity, extinguishing the arrows's magic before they struck. Rendered wholly mundane, they had no hope at all of penetrating his cloak, nor even of wearing it down through attrition.
The Librarian, the Imprisoner... does that make this guy the Archer? Do all Soul Evokers use the definite article + noun format? Not that I have room to talk, given some of my characters. Anyway, the arrows being magical's inconvenient, thankfully Gisena can render them mundane enough for the Evening Sky to no-sell what's left. Despite the light-and-gold appearance, apparently they're not 100% conjured bullshit?
"The archer's moving closer. Two more units circling around," she whispered in his ear, pressed nearly flat against his back as they raced through the crops and into the clearing beyond.
The magic sense is tactically convenient. Gisena's only hard-countered by mundane troops or raw speed/power beyond her ability to cope with, IIRC Jeanne's resurrection contingency put her at the center of a formation of crossbowmen with overlapping fields of fire. It's going to be tricky if once we get to the Human Sphere, Gisena's not enhanced enough to take on even mundane special forces. But here and now, in this civilization that fields Evokers while still having people laboring in the fields? She's useful.
There was a sudden splitting, a schism in space-time around them, but Gisena whipped about and dispelled it before it could finish forming, nudging him with her left shin as she moved. He turned to the right, blindly firing blade-winds, and caught the materializing form of an enemy patrolwoman. She was heavily armored, wearing a scale coat of emerald with an open-faced helm of the same color, and riding atop what appeared to be a fledging drake. Instinctively he flared his ring, suppressing her blood and enhancing his own. She turned pale, expression confused as his first blade-winds landed.
Space-warping bullshit, possibly a specialty of the Imprisoned Ring? Accursed knows there's enough going on in the background to stuff all this into the Temple's confines, but Gisena's had practice shutting down Astral Rifts at the drop of a hat. And huh, is blood-buffing too demanding in terms of attention for Hunger to maintain constantly? He has to worry about stamina as well as health, and blade-wind spam's not cheap. Suddenly slowing her and speeding up does make for a good blitz, though.
His first cuts struck her armor and damaged it, but failed to pierce through. His follow-up swiftly decapitated her mount, and as she tumbled he rushed forward, plunging his blade into her sternum with eviscerating force. Before she had time to react, he struck again, ending her life as her compatriots finally arrived upon the scene.
Armor that isn't useless in the face of the Forebear's Blade, nice. Wish we could've properly looted the bodies, the outriders were well-equipped. Whoever controls the purse-strings in the Inners' civilization clearly doesn't skimp on border security.
"BASTARD!" A second rider roared, charging heedlessly at him, drake snapping wildly. Hunger stepped to the side with a flourish of his cloak, entangling them in the pitiless weave of the Evening Sky. As they flailed, he stabbed the man in the back. A blade-projection bisected the warrior neatly, his death-screams muffled by the thick mantle of evening, now become his funereal shroud.
Age and treachery claims another victim. The use of the Sky to paralyze the enemy's even similar to Seralize's death. Enraged by the death of a teammate or lover, something in that territory, he loses control of his mount, charges, and dies. I'm not feeling guilty about this, they shot first and power their civilization with a metaphorical forsaken child. Still, diplomacy was theoretically possible, I can see scenarios where Soul Evocation enabled drastically different interactions. As the Imprisoner, we might even have been able to help with their setup if we could stomach it?
"Hmph." Gisena said airily, "Guess their mounts weren't quite up to mine!" She patted his shoulder, bright with cheer.
There's not feeling particularly guilty, and then there's whatever the fuck this is. Charitably, we can assume she's trying to cheer Hunger up.
He shook his head. Perhaps she was trying to distract him from the unpleasantness of the situation, forced to slaughter citizens who were only protecting their home. But he'd made his choice. He could not abide the torture of the Ring, which meant he had to abide the death of its jailers. He would regret the necessity nonetheless.
"I regret the necessity," eh? That they have to die is unfortunate, but the civilians have been spared collateral damage. Feels like there's a Strategist quote for this situation, something about guilt being useless once you've committed to a course of action. Act or do not; agonizing over one route or another's pointless.
Only the bowman remained, but refused to show himself, arrows darting in from all directions. Hunger deflected most, and his cloak caught many others, but one embedded itself in his thigh, bringing livid pain and paralyzing force. He staggered, flicking his blade once to cut out that chunk of his flesh. The paralysis swiftly abated, but a second arrow found its way into his chest - where the lower half of his left lung would have been, had his been intact.
Easy to forget about the lung, Hunger's supernatural endurance compensates for the loss, but our man's really fucked up when you stop and think about it. Paralyzing arrows aren't Hitori-tier homing bullet bullshit, but not a welcome surprise. Easy to lock a target into a debuff spiral and finish them off if you land the first hit. If we hadn't killed the riders first, we'd be screwed. I can see where the 30% chance of death came from.
"He used his comrades' distraction to set up some kind of field," Gisena reported. "Control of space-time, along with other effects. I'm countering most of it but it's growing in strength."
Looks like the ability to ramp up isn't exclusive to the magus. He could blink about too, without telegraphing via portal. Who knows how important he was to their civilization, both age and asskicking ability tend to be correlated with authority? Wasn't precisely personable, though.
That explained the arrows from all directions, and their preternatural fire rate. It also made the archer himself nearly impossible to pin down... Hunger's eyes traced the horizon, finding nothing. Another arrow, this time to the right knee, and a second one grazing his wrist. The artery was cut cleanly, but no blood sprayed forth; his Ring made certain of that. Impossible angles of fire, shifting constantly. He forced down the pain and thought.
A literal arrow to the knee?! How degenerate. If this guy thinks we're going to stop being an adventurer because of that, he's dead wrong!
The Ring. He could sense the blood of those he focused on within sight. Could it also be used to locate a foe who evaded sight? As more arrows struck him, he dropped low to the ground, shielding Gisena's body with his own. Focusing intently, he could sense twelve more sources of blood in the area besides the Sorceress. They were spatially transposed: each was the archer's original body, but it occupied multiple points in space at the same time, presumably using further spatial magic to account for differences in firing angle. One dozen blood sources became fifteen, fifteen became eighteen. This would swiftly become unmanageable.
Increments of three each time, unclear if that means anything. The spatial manipulation, is that a Soul Evocation or a more general ability available to the outriders? It could've been the archer who ported the drake-riders in, but he's got enchanted arrows and the Dreadbeast has similar co-location according to the merchants. I'm going to tentatively attribute this to power drawn from the Imprisoned Ring. Could be that the archer's burning the candle at both ends, using up some amount of power was allocated to the patrol group? But yeah, this situation isn't going to end well.
"I'm going to go ghost," he whispered, feigning death. More arrows came nonetheless, though the Evening Sky covered them completely. Still, it could not hold forever.

"So eager to die," Gisena teased, but nodded in affirmation. "Go. Good luck. I promise I won't dispel you!"
The teasing I could do without, comparing Ceathlynn's counterfactual focus and professionalism to the Gisena experience is painful. But yeah, friendly fire in spirit form would be disastrous. That might be one advantage of the Gown, since it persists through all our stages.
He slew his physical form and sprang out, cloak a tattered wreath around him, charging to the closest blood signature. More arrows flew at him, targeting his limbs and sides. He dodged what few he could, deflected certain others and simply withstood the rest, the brilliant blaze of pain only sharpening his focus. Exerting himself recklessly, he went fully incorporeal, phasing through the final round of arrows to arrive with shocking speed. At last the archer came into view, a man dressed rakishly in hunting leathers holding a bow of golden weave. He pounced.
Swift as Death would be really nice to make Second Stage less of a sidegrade, especially if Quickening wins, but it was a unique advancement and we can't spare a night to knight-farm in hopes of getting it again. Blood-sensing's a neat trick too, similar to Gisena's magic detection, but they've both got weaknesses. Hunger's against automata, hers against mundane enemies.
"What-" The man managed before Hunger sliced off his knee, blood fountaining upwards at a furious rate. The archer gestured hastily, all but fumbling his bow, and disappeared, canceling this spatial instance. But the damage was already done.
Man, Kakuzumaru had a way better superposition technique. Eighteen bodies with one health track? What if his surroundings got hit with an AoE? Not bad if you're just fire support, I guess, co-location a high cost or other weaknesses (looking at you, Legion Form) is broken as hell. Still wondering whether this is his Evocation, the bow might be responsible for the arrows.
Ripping the arrowheads free of his barely-coherent wraith form, Hunger rushed towards the next source of that blood signature, finding the man barely recovered, unsteadily nocking an arrow. This time his blade-winds failed to land, warping around the archer to graze instead of murder, their buzzsaw edges first leaving sandblasted streaks of blood against the man's flesh, then failing to connect at all. But the Forebear's Blade was not his only weapon. This close to the Ring of Blood and already bleeding heavily, his enemy would be exsanguinated within the second. Hypovolemic shock would occur much faster. The jewel of his Ring lit up hungrily, almost purring with delight.
Ours isn't the most wholesome and family-friendly of artifacts, but Hunger's family and friends are all dead anyway. Exsanguination could combine usefully with A Thousand Cuts, bleeding enemies both physically and spiritually.
"Wait," the man said, holding up one arm desperately. Wary of being ambushed as with the craven knights, Hunger kicked the archer over and severed the tendons in his arms and remaining leg before placing his Blade against the man's cranium. Only then did he gesture once, stemming the torrent of blood.

"Talk." He said.
Now he wants to talk? Well, the magus was totally unwilling to, so it's a relative improvement. Maybe the next Inners will announce themselves before opening fire, wouldn't that be something. Good on Hunger for the thorough incapacitation, the Knights might take after their... creators? How long has this setup been going? The Knight-Commander's existence is dripping with implications, but he might predate this regime.
"You... look! I know the Call of the Temple is strong. But there's no need for us to fight. We- we're entirely willing to pay you off, intruders as strong as you are. Maybe even hire you to defend us for a time. We can be very generous. And, and we can give you a sigil that'll immunize you to the Call. Your life won't be dominated by it any more. You'll be free! Free to leave, to come and go as you please! Isn't that better than being tricked - coerced - into obeying the Call?"
Interesting, they don't call it the Call of the False Moon. The merchants claimed to never have ventured beyond the ritual grounds, but they had one of these sigils, which all but confirms a relationship between them and the Inner Residents. How many people who venture into the Middle Temple take this offer? In our case its veracity is questionable, we maimed this man and killed a couple of his comrades, in addition to the groundskeeper. But for less driven adventurers with less information, who're having this conversation without bodies on the ground? The Seralize-alikes, just in it for the money and glory? It's not a bad attempt at bribery.
"Tell me about the defenses in the Inner Temple."

"I don't know. You should worry about us in the Middle first! When I fail to respond to a check-in, more will come searching for me. Far stronger than I. Stronger than you! But we don't need to fight!"
Ah, fuck. Competent enemies are the worst. Does he really not know or is he rolling diplomacy to save his skin? We don't have the time needed to get the information out of him anyway.
"Do you have a sigil on you right now?"

"Of course!"

"Give it to me."

"My left pants pocket, lower side."
Yeah, life would be intolerable as an Inner with a conscience if they didn't all carry them. Does every Middle Temple farmer and citizen have their own copy? Are there different tiers of sigil, one that makes the Knights ignore you and others that allow you to call on them?
He extracted the sigil, a thin metal thing with a blue rune on its face. It buzzed threateningly at him, resisting the influence of his ring. He threw it away.
And predictably it disagrees with Hunger. Oh well, even if we could hypothetically leave without the debuff, Hunger's not willing to walk away.
"I have the power to tell when an enemy has given up. You haven't." Hunger himself wasn't in much better condition, his ghostly outline barely visible. He marshaled his energies, preparing to finish it.

"I- I can still use Soul Evocations, it's true. But I swear! I swear not to oppose you in any form or way of action! I swear it on my soul, okay?! Just let me live!"
Does that... work? Are loyalty oaths at sword-point also possible for Evokers? Some interesting societal implications if they're magically binding, but it's conceivably a cultural thing.
The ring flared again, an intermittent pattern as if glowering, and finally Hunger felt the power of triumph flowing in. Gisena walked over to them, carrying his flesh body. Bereft of cloak, ring and blade, it looked only sullen.

"Maybe you want to get back inside? You're looking a bit pale!"

"Very funny. We're withdrawing. Can't fight further in this state."
Man, I had no clue that Hunger's body doesn't disappear when he goes ghost, that makes Chill of the Grave way more disturbing! Benefit-wise... we could feed people with our corpse(s) if we were somehow at risk of starvation and unable to hunt and were unable to utilize any of the hundred or so better options? With necromancy we could animate our own dead bodies into a zombie legion, thus fulfilling Letrizia's prophecy of our powers getting ever-creepier? Our body means it's our blood, there's probably synergy with the ring if we want to go there. That is an if, though, the psychological implications make Form of Rage grinding look balanced by comparison.
They began to walk away.

"It's a shame you can't carry me in this state..." Gisena mused.

"As I said!" The archer hollered, "There's no need to fight! Join us! We pay well, far better than you'll find outside!"
No reason at all on his end, except for the crippling injuries and three Inners we've killed, two of which were his teammates. Forgive my skepticism, nameless archer. Is this just company policy when they run into an overgrown moonbrain?
He turned back to the man. "You never saw the ones that defeated you. You don't know any details of their magics or abilities."

"O-of course!"

"Okay. Let's go."
I'll eat my hat if he doesn't leak like a sieve, but at least we've got the moral high ground compared to Bearic. Can his Gamer shtick even give him XP for nonlethal victories?
"Good work today! This time, I'm carrying your unconscious body. Fair's fair, after all!"

"You can get rid of that thing. Actually, give it here, I'll destroy it. Best not leave them anything to study."
Yeah, if the thread can come up with sympathetic attacks on the Knight-Commander through his remote-controlled legions, then the Inners could potentially do something with our corpse. I hope we haven't just been leaving them everywhere, that's - macabre and might actually be amusing if not for the Apocryphal Curse?

2408 words.
This is a strange title, Throne and Altar seems like a more straightforward dichotomy: church and state, all that jazz. But Hunger does sit down and discuss the political situation with Letrizia, prompting speculation about all the ways it could come crashing down with Apocryphal alterations, so it's apt in that sense.
While on their way back they were ambushed by a group of Knights, unusually organized and lead by an massive specimen in a tabard of green. Though badly weakened from the prior battle, Hunger and Gisena dispatched them without much fuss, the green knight fleeing as his troops disintegrated around him.
The later comparison to Hunger's experiences against the Tyrant make me wonder if we've seen the last of him. It's nice not to have every ambush degenerate into terrible danger, though. Lack of level scaling's a merciless blade that cuts both ways.
"He fears the Nullity," Hunger observed.

"A wise one," Gisena said, dramatically blowing air off her palm. "Perhaps that's why he's in charge!"
So this is interesting. In Sir Gawain and the Green Knight Morgan le Fay transforms Bercilak into the Green Knight to administer a test of chivalry, and here we have the Knight of Holly fleeing a Sorceress. Is that because he fears Gisena's ability to dispel some enchantment on him? Lingering Sorceress PTSD? Someone ought to start a support group. The boring explanation's that it would dispel his armor, as we've seen her Tides do to other Knights.
Hunger grunted. It rankled to let an enemy go, but he was in no fit state for pursuit. "He wasn't in charge, not directly. The way they responded to him reminded me of rabble around an agitator."
It's clear that there's more going on with the Knights than we're privy to. By not in charge, does he mean acting as a provocateur, subverting another's subjects? Dancing on sorcerous strings? The obvious candidate for leader's the Knight-Commander, who fights to protect his 'charges' (likely the Middle Temple residents) and could be the intelligence coordinating Knight Legions. Risks aside, talking with him could've been more informative than our chat with the Goldenrod Bowman, who mostly confirmed things we already suspected.

We haven't heard any of the other Knights utter so much as a word and he's been around since the beginning or before. Are there divisions among the Knights, indicative of factions among the Residents? Why did the Green Knight take a swing at us? In the stories, he accepts one blow and returns the next year to strike back. But the Knights we've seen are unqualified to pass judgment on others' chivalry.
He was very familiar with that dynamic, having been the agitator more often than not. And the rabble... almost inevitably overrun by the Tyrant's forces after their initial momentum dissolved. The position of resistance leader was a grand and inspiring thing in dreams. Reality was not so kind.
You'd think that in a world where legends walk the earth and force of spirit can overturn mundane matters, this wouldn't be so. But power calcifies and compounds as it's used to secure more, until fighting a Tyrant with a legend centuries in the making's like trying to slay the sea.
He cleared his throat. "He could be assembling reinforcements. Let's go, quickly."
Yeah, we learned early on that these guys are willing to escalate. If Hunt Relentlessly wins, we might learn just how hard! It's a shame we can't become The Danger in full by making the ritual ground's rivers run grey with Knightly blood, but grinding weaklings is inherently a sign of fear... or being a JPRG protagonist.
"It'd be quicker if my noble mount weren't indisposed..." Gisena pouted. "Well, at least I don't have to do this in heels. You'd be shocked at some of the outfits my friends wore to the battlefield!"
It hurts me deep inside that Hunger is a literally noble steed.
Possibly, but Accretion can also make 'unique' gear (looking at you, RWBY) practical if you survive long enough to build a reputation. If we're speculating about outfits, I wonder what Jeanne would think of the Evening Gown had it won? On second thought, she'd just ask why Hunger didn't build a Nebula Battlesuit instead.
"Well, they had enough findross to make the outfits practical. It was their aesthetic sense that was lacking..." She shook her head sadly, eyes distant.
Ah, I see how it is. Just because you're however many dimensions away, you think you can critique Pieia's fashion sense? She had a Grace that scaled with the complexity of her outfits, who are you to chide her for following her incentives? The Maiden gave her that capability, you know; in a sense, she's doing her Duty! Gisena's use of the past tense is noted, though.
"Fashion being one's utmost priority on the battlefield."

"Exactly!" Gisena rubbed his semi-corporeal shoulder. "You get it."
Good save, for a second there you guys were in danger of having a serious conversation. Much safer to keep bantering.
They made good time, and arrived at the antechamber without further interception. Strewn around its opening were a series of corpses, adventurer bodies freshly killed not more than a few hours ago.
Well, that ought to murder the mood. This party's a bit past 'beset', Hunger arrived too late to help them.
"There's an effect," Gisena said, reaching out one palm. "A perimeter around the area where the antechamber meets the grass."

He raised his ring and focused on the desire to leave. "And now?"

She nodded. "It's dissipating. I guess the Temple doesn't like it when the unqualified try to use this place. Looks like it would even keep out Temple denizens as well! Such a convenient ring, giving you a free pass."
Concerning that we can't even see what killed them without Gisena's help, we could run into all kinds of magical tripwires with our limited sensorium. We suspected the existence of something like this since the main entrance was deserted, but confirms it. Did these guys try to do an end run around the gates to access the antechamber because Hunger was spotted near here? We don't know what the Encampment knows about us. Though the merchants are apparently alive, invalidating all that paranoid speculation!
"Convenient," he repeated, as they walked towards the chamber. "...Wait. I'll give them a proper burial first."

"Alright." She sent a wave of Nullity over the bodies.

"Just in case!"
Good thought, but what about the loot?! Or is the logic that if they died, they're too weak to have anything worth taking? ...huh? 'Respect for the dead,' you say? What's that?
Even in his diminished condition, he was more than capable of moving those few bodies to an appropriate spot. Away from the entrance, atop a secluded hill ringed with trees, he dug their graves in seconds and used a large rock as headstone. It was almost alienating, this simple reminder of the strength he'd gained. The act of digging a grave was intended to be the somber work of minutes, perhaps hours. And yet his charted trajectory would only carry him further from the human condition. It was a small price to pay, in many way a trivial one. And yet not one that ought go unremarked-upon.
IIRC Arthur had similar musings when he buried Genevieve, about the transformative nature of power, even while refraining from using the Elements Form; with the right mindset, in that world the Rite could supercede all other rituals. To limit yourself to a human pace is inefficient; to dig with superhuman speed, undignified. Hunger's had an interesting relationship with human routines ever since taking Might's Repose; how many 'inextricable parts of life's rhythms' can we preserve by going beyond, for that matter? Instead of a simple grave, create the Taj Mahal with a comaparable exertion. Ulyssian had the option to raise a Heaven-defying monument to Alveua's sacrifice in the Odyssey, Nameless' Emanation aided and abbetted his laziness...

Not sure what I'm getting at here, other than that if you want to 'stay human' you align the incentives accordingly early on. Maybe we should've given Garden a chance? But prioritizing that would be flinching from the path we've chosen. The only way out is through, that applies to more than just the Temple.
"Buried by a ghost," Gisena observed, tapping her chin. "How ironic for them."

"And slain by one too, if they fell while fleeing the ghostly knights."
Interesting question, it doesn't say what their wounds looked like. Avada Kedavra style immaculate corpses would be the most worrying possibility? But eh, the Temple's proven to have many horrifying tricks up its sleeve. Spatial manipulation makes sleight of hand easy!
Gisena took his arm. He gave the opening a long look before stepping across the threshold. Of course, it let them through. Casting the dead from his mind, he walked forward.

A murderous perimeter. As if this place weren't suspicious enough. What defensive measures existed hidden around the Temple entrance? If Gisena didn't detect them, he wouldn't know, because the ring served as the pass for all of them. Why would the Temple of an rival ring be so accommodating to his own?

Was that the respect accorded to a worthy opponent, no matter how bitter their feud? Optimistic, but he genuinely felt that might be the answer. He himself would not tolerate the eternal torment of the Imprisoned Ring, be those opposed or not. Perhaps it was the purpose of the Rings to fight, to contest for primacy, and to impede that contest was antithetical to their nature.
It's cause for optimism that the Temple can create barriers that affect Inner Residents and intruders equally, maybe their control's imperfect. Not exactly news, if the Inners had a fully mastered Ring of Power the situation would look different and their Temple (is it theirs, though?) wouldn't be effectively besieged. Still, not sure how much credibility to assign to Hunger's musings here, this seems like it could be mental contamination. He continues to be a good protagonist, though: not indifferent to the dead or the suffering of his enemies, but not wracked with guilt at the slightest hint of culpability either. His experience shows, in a good way.
They encountered no further oddities on the way back.

Letrizia emerged from Verschlengorge, waving happily as they came into view.

"You're always so badly hurt when you come back," she said, slightly glum.
What, is Hunger going to retreat without taking horrible injuries? Give your bodyguard some credit! This is preferable to Letrizia being badly hurt when we come back, though, which has been a nightmare scenario of mine for a while.
"We've got to keep you safe from the blue swordsman. It's not like we like you or anything, stupid."

"A-ah! Yeah..."

"I'm kidding. My heedless thirst for more power is the only reason for these injuries. None of the blame is yours, understood?" He gently placed his palm on her head.
Oof, I resemble that remark. Somebody should fireproof the fourth wall so Hunger can't burn us through it! Also, another headpat.
"Hey! I'm not a kid, okay? At least s-some of the blame is mine. For bringing the blue swordsman down on us, if nothing else. And I get that there's no point beating myself up over it, because that won't help matters at all. I just wish... there was something I could do."
Ouch, is she blaming herself for that? Letrizia may have been the bait on the plothook that brought Bearic into our life, but the Apocryphal's what set those events in motion. Again, way more mature than the character she supposedly resembles. Asuka would beat somebody else up over it.
She looked up at Verschlengorge. "I'm an Armament pilot. We're not used to being helpless."

"Far from it. We'll be relying on you to introduce us to your civilization. I expect the favor to be paid back with interest."

"Of course!" She said determinedly. "I'll make sure you and Miss Gisena get whatever you need!"
Aww, I hope the political situation back home hasn't deteriorated to the point where she can't keep this promise. With two explicit Apocryphal procs, it shouldn't have had the latitude to start pulling blocks out of the Jenga tower of human civilization. But the operative word in that sentence is 'shouldn't' and we'll have active Apocryphal time for the second leg of our journey even in the best case.
"Good. Enough shop talk, let's eat."

Dinner was ration bars and reconstituted soup, surprisingly delicious for so ordinary a meal. Technological advance could result in the most unusual conveniences. Letrizia sighed happily upon digging into her repast, while Hunger ate slowly and steadily. His thoughts wandered, mind unfocused after the wearying events of the day. Could the Ring of Blood be used to improve the taste of food?
I'd like to see someone animating a hypothetical AST anime try and elevate simple soup to the level of the King Fish meal montage! Also, thank the Accursed we're no longer playing Nameless. All respect for our victorious past protagonist aside, he'd have gone full Shokugeki no Soma with the Ring of Blood, taken a swan dive into the turgid waters of hedonism unless goaded by necessity. Hunger's just musing about ringbearer perks in his downtime.
It seemed likely. But how to do it? Invigorate the livestock before it was butchered? Or could one augment the taste buds indirectly? That seemed like a task beneath the dignity of the ring, but if it made Letrizia feel better...
Hunger is the ring, so the question's whether it's beneath his dignity. It seems like you could attack the problem from multiple angles? Bring down a beast in a passionate hunt, suffuse the body with power after it's slain, involve yourself in every step of meal preparation. The King Fish escapade's a literal recipe for success, if you ignore all non-culinary consequences. It also occurs to me that Hunger's blood might be supernaturally appealing to vampires? Hopefully the Geas never takes him to the Rihakuverse equivalent of Castlevania. My bloodsuckers are bad enough, Accursed only knows what you'd come up with. The Blood Elves were bizarrely wholesome given their inspiration.
Well. Safest to test on his self first. Something to do when he had both idle time and his body of flesh again.
...wait, is he sitting down to dinner as a partially-corporeal, partially-paralyzed wraith? I'm surprised he's able to eat in this state!
As they finished, he addressed Letrizia again. "So. The Human Sphere."

"Hm? Yeah, what about it?"

"We've been traveling together all this time but haven't heard anything further about it. You mentioned three polities, and that your nation was one of the smaller ones. Is it possible that the blue swordsman's patron is connected to a rival nation?"
That's one way to start, playing off her earlier comments about feeling helpless and using Bearic to get at the juicy exposition. But maybe Letrizia hasn't been holding back out of caginess alone? It's an interesting mental exercise, trying to think of how you would summarize Earth's civilization to someone with no cultural context. Of course, this is what memes are for.
"Oh, storytime!" Gisena sat up. "Yes, tell us more! What kind of society will welcome us when we deliver their cute duchess back safe and sound?"
Nicely done on Gisena's part, perking up like it's a given that Letrizia'll spill more details and making refusal awkward in the process.
"A-ah! Well, I suppose you deserve to know. Right now the Human Sphere is at peace, but tensions have been growing between all three nations."
The odds on it staying that way are long, to say the least. Peaceful times aren't 'interesting' ones, by the Curse's metric. It is fun to think of silver linings to the Curses, perks accessible through mitigation. Decimation can be weaponized, the Tyrant's Doom provides immunity to some forms of mental influence, the Plenary Brand's an advantage to anyone who enjoys playing cosmic chicken. We even scale better with constant conflict, having specialized accordingly.
She cleared her throat. "Ahem. The Sphere is divided between the Empire (that's my country), the Republic, and the Association. We control about twenty-seven hundred inhabited systems, while the Association controls seven hundred and the Republic holds the remaining eight thousand. However, we hold nearly as many Armaments as the Republic does, while the Association is far behind. There are a whole bunch of geopolitical tensions and complicated issues..."
Maybe it's the avatar, but my first instinct is suspicion of the Association. If the two great powers go to war... cui bono? The nation sitting on the sidelines. Kind of suspicious that they're listed in the same breath as the Republic and Empire when they have fewer systems and Armaments. What's allowed them to maintain their status? I'd also like to hear more about those complicated issues and tensions, but she breezes past that and into her backstory. If Letrizia were any more of a clever girl I'd start linking Jurrasic Park memes.
She sighed. "It's depressing to think about. That's part of why I didn't want to bring it up. Being a pilot, fighting for survival, is so simple. My family - House Artriez - has always held Verschlengorge. Traditionally we've been its pilots as well, but my father had a weak constitution that resisted intervention. Even mages extracted from the Voyaging Realm weren't able to help him. They concluded it was some form of Astral doom and there was a huge power struggle over the Armament. The Emperor wanted to seize the Armament - temporarily - and give it to someone else, while most of the nobility vigorously resisted him, afraid it would set a precedent. So... to cut the knot, I trained to pilot from a young age. There are other pilots my age and younger, but they all started afterwards. It's... not a big deal, but there's always been a distance between us, especially since I've been the most exposed to its Decimation." She shook her head, hair flying wildly about her shoulders.
So Letrizia's pretty influential, if she inspired others to follow in her wake. I can see how she'd be a potent symbol, as a fiery noble girl taking up an ancestral weapon, sacrificing her youth out of filial piety. And her adulthood too, if she's had a lot of Decimation exposure without Verschlengorge suppressing it. Whatever the life expectancy among Imperial nobles is (could be high, with anagathics and rejuvenation treatments), Letrizia falls short of it. Maybe Hunger can help with his newly-awakened ring, but a Curse isn't easily overcome. Her father's problem might be more tractable if the doom has a lowercase d. Letrizia deserves respect for her sacrifices, though the way she made sure to mention that the Emperor only wanted to temporarily confiscate Versch is amusing.
"Aw," Gisena gave her a hug. "Come here, you. Regardless of all that you turned out to be a wonderful and respectable young woman!"

"Thanks, Miss Gisena." Letrizia returned the hug tightly.
For once I agree completely with Gisena, she deserves hugs as much as we need straight answers. A simple transaction is in order.
"Anyway, a couple of weeks ago Verschlengorge was attacked by high-level Astral Beasts while undergoing maintenance, including a Sovereign-class, the strongest that can manifest physically. Of course I managed to beat them, but the Sovereign hurled me through a displacement rift before it died. The fact that none of the Armaments stationed in the Voyaging showed up at any point to support me is somewhat suspicious... it's possible the whole thing may have been a Republic plot of sorts. They're always looking to gain any kind of edge on the Empire, and they don't have any scruples about how it's done. After all we'd been through, I didn't think my fellow pilots would have it in them to do something like that... I guess they were just Republic scum after all," she finished, somewhat forlorn.
Not much of a leap from Republic scum to rebel scum. The names invite Star Wars comparisons. No nation that Letrizia's a noble of could possibly be the baddies, right? Even if they are called the Empire? Moving on, the existence of Astral Beasts too powerful to manifest in reality is concerning, there go most of my plans to go full Leman Russ and grind in the Eye of Terror. Also, if they're high-Rank creatures, how can the physical world keep them out? Is this another aspect of the Interdict of Cognition? A different Interdict set down by the Foremost? And how does an Astral Lord compare to a Sovereign-class?

If Ber's employer can't enter reality, that'd explain why he's hiring mercenaries and is willing to subject himself to the Care Bear's personality. The Sovereign sounds impressive just from the name, but we haven't encountered Astral Beasts capable of higher thought. If the displacement rift gambit was intentional, that suggests sophistication... and that who or whatever's behind the attack wants the Human Sphere's foothold in the Voyaging undefended. Curious that Letrizia assumes the Republic contingent of their agency betrayed them and wasn't otherwise indisposed. What about the Association, did they send any Armaments? If I were planning this I'd want to kill the pilots outside of the mechs, it doesn't sound like the sort of thing where a plucky teenager can jump in and take over. But hey, maybe Totality works that way.
"Well. Let's reserve judgement until we know more." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can rest assured that your new comrades are both more reliable, and far prettier, than any such pilots, especially if they're Republic scum."
This is sweet, but also sad because we're Geas-bound to take over 90% of everything she's ever known. With her lifespan Decimated, it's unlikely that Letrizia will live to see this through to the end. But with strange aeons even death may die, and through the power of Progression all things are possible.
Letrizia giggled. "Thanks. I've always wanted to have a supernaturally handsome bodyguard. Now I just need a pony and I'm all set!"

"A duchess of an interstellar Empire can't get a pony?"

"My father said it was frivolous... I agreed."
A wise choice, she already has a steed. Would the Devouring Armament suffer competition? I suppose a few ponies might spice up the menu a bit.

2156 words.
1620, 2074, 2408, and 2156 words respectively for a total of 8258, indexed separately. Most of these were written the day after the update, so some of the speculation's out of date.

Currently wondering whether this should be a one-off. It's all very well to play the metagame and save power for a vote I really care about, but the deepest layer of meta's optimizing for QM enjoyment and therefore quest health.
 
Orm, can I suggest Withdrawal rather then Focus? Rihaku has said Dialog/Withdrawal has the best survival chance.

The loss of rewards sucks, but if we die no number of rewards was worth it.
 
Quick, what's the reward structure for going through, reading, and rating posts? I've been doing it, but I have other stuff I could do if it's not worth much.
 
If we're taking Dialogue with R-Type #1, as seems to be winning, we gotta plan diplomacy around #1. Be a bit awkward if we aren't on the same page, and #1 is absolutely committed to this fight. Hunger will be less comfortable with the negotiation if Vanreir has just killed him, too.

I think we should try to get #1 on board with the talking plan, if possible. Feasibility depends on the personality, which we know nothing about except "is invading the Middle Temple". So we should at least be able to sell the recruitment of thrustman. They may be able to help, but it's probably not likely.

I worry about the Inertia at the end of the day, but if it "fuels his will in all things" and his priority is protecting his sister, might be better to switch to Close of Day for Dialogue. He's already lumping us in with #1 (we "converge"), and if #1 is unwilling to talk things out, Vanreir will be less inclined to listen. Plus, it would just be a mess, it's hard enough to balance the desires of two people.
 
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If we're taking Dialogue with R-Type #1, as seems to be winning, we gotta plan diplomacy around #1. Be a bit awkward if we aren't on the same page, and #1 is absolutely committed to this fight. Hunger will be less comfortable with the negotiation if Vanreir has just killed him, too.
If 1 isn't willing to talk we let him die, or if tenable we kill him ourselves, to prove we mean it.

I worry about the Inertia at the end of the day, but if it "fuels his will in all things" and his priority is protecting his sister, might be better to switch to Close of Day for Dialogue. He's already lumping us in with #1 (we "converge"), and if #1 is unwilling to talk things out, Vanreir will be less inclined to listen. Plus, it would just be a mess, it's hard enough to balance the desires of two people.
No, at End of Day he'll be too close to getting everything he's wanted. To divert him we need to meet him sooner rather than later. Once his mission is 2/3 complete and he's spent himself looking for us he won't be willing to change tracks.

We need to catch him while failure is still a clear option.
 
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His sister alone among the Inners, inside that blue box of which he knows nothing? He has faith in her, as an elder brother should. But can she survive wolves on the level of full-grown Fairbrights? He'll dispatch his foes Inside 'when the time comes', but how much time and strength does he have left? They've strung him along with promises. Does he truly believe the coordinators are ignorant of his withering when they know every other aspect of his soul, and Thran speaks as though familiar with Vanreir's father?
And his sister may be faultless. She may, indeed, be capable of standing up to them. Of handling even the machinations of the Inner residents.

But is that the future he wants for her? Scheming for a tiny bit of power in a backwards realm, torn from the rest of the universe by the foremost for their whims. One ultimately doomed as the Call pulses ever more? One day something that the Inner Residents cannot handle will hear the call. And the temple will come crashing down.

Best to leave long before that day. And we offer a chance to restore the full glory of the House in the Empire itself. It is not perfect, and there will be trials. But we will offer him and his sister one thing the inner residents never will: Freedom.

[X] Orm Embar

It was, ultimately, worth a try.

Hope this works.
 
He's a dog of the Inners.

His best attack is a thrust.

Are we gonna get Gae Bolg'd?

We're gonna get Gae Bolg'd.

Not the kind of thought I wanted going through my head first thing in the morning.

Gonna vote later maybe. Processing power is at a pretty bad low right now.
 
And one final thought: He dislikes that he is ultimately a fusion of him and his father to accomplish what their line was promised.

Can we use the ring to pull his legacy to the forefront and render that fusion unneeded? To make him in truth what he appears to be, what he wishes he was? If we can restore the legacy of their power, something no one else has been willing and able to do, I suspect he will be willing indeed to give us a shot.
 
I'm hugely skeptical about diplomacy, between him being stronger and in a position much more likely to make demands or otherwise act in a manner to trip tyrant. Plus the fact he's literally inches away from grabbing the brass ring... is he really going to give that up based on some promises of future rewards from some wretch babbling to save their skin? Doesn't seem to fit with his 'one policy for enemies' mindset. I think all diplomacy if attempted should only be in sevice of distracting him as we escape, or putting him on tilt to gain time for a killing stroke.
 
I'm hugely skeptical about diplomacy, between him being stronger and in a position much more likely to make demands or otherwise act in a manner to trip tyrant. Plus the fact he's literally inches away from grabbing the brass ring... is he really going to give that up based on some promises of future rewards from some wretch babbling to save their skin? Doesn't seem to fit with his 'one policy for enemies' mindset. I think all diplomacy if attempted should only be in sevice of distracting him as we escape, or putting him on tilt to gain time for a killing stroke.
We have Rihaku's word diplomacy is among the options for the best chances of surviving this.

And he can't exactly steal the ring. Kill us and it goes dormant, and it can't be removed so long as we live.

And we can make good on at least part of things immediately. The Ring can easily restore the damage sharing his body with his father has done, and likely amplify his bloodline to pull it's true power to the forefront.
 
[X] Orm Embar

if our main man Orm is dropping his strategic reserve I'm willing to fall in line
 
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You know what, I gotta admire a guy that's willing to spend 8K worth of Omake on the public good, rather then save it for a pet build as I would have done in his place.

[X] Orm Embar

It helps that Orm's tactics seem sound and the chosen options strike a nice middle ground between all-out attack and all-out survival. I guess I was a BalanceBro all along... Wait, I actually voted for Balance way back at character creation, why would I be surprised by that?
 
mrgl I spend too much time not doing work
not that I really feel bad but I feel incompetent which is actually worse, as something other people can discover.
anyway, shinies vs Not Dying, huh ...
guess I gotta own up to my priorities
Also, the reason why Not Dying is encapsulated as a separate priority instead of a probabilistic spread of outcome-values is that once you get invested in characters, their death not only ends their content, but is unpleasant to read about, thus being a negative instead of neutral outcome.
same concept as people fearing death in rl, probably; usually unpleasant + uncertainty of outcome
okay maybe not quite the same
whatever
I'll probably write more reacts tomorrow since I finished the things I was reading and the games I was playing, leaving me with a significant lack of procrastination material that I probably won't fill with work
then again I might not, since procrastination
no hard deadlines means it never gets done unless I feel like it anyway
[X] Close of Day
[X] Preparation: Focus
[X] Preparation: Resolve
 
Alternatively, we could draw upon our common hate for the Hidden Masters. Perhaps he was Isekai'd like us (or simply just a hero ripped from Destiny's bosom)
 
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