Accursed Implement Reaction Post (2166#Words)
Right away I notice the color. The Praxis and Cursebearer systems have been associating with an "Icy Blue" color for a while. It's also the endless sky color. And Truth is blue. What is with the underlying nature of reality and the color blue anyway? Well, at least blue looks good with most things, we could be stuck with the underlying nature of reality being yellowish brown or something equally horrific.
Letrizia had decided she was going on a self-proclaimed 'undercover' mission to investigate colony's magic, while Gisena was happily examining each and every technological advancement Human Civilization had made since the Renaissance. While they did so, he studied the blade.
Self-Proclaimed undercover in quotes huh? I'm going to guess that there's no way the local authorities don't know about Letrizia's activities. And that her attempted "Infiltration" is kinda a farce and also totally unnecessary. I actually really want to see an interlude from Letrizia's perspective on this whole shebang, it'd probably be hilarious.
Gisena geeking out over tech is cute. I have to wonder how people are reacting to the supernaturally beautiful Sorceress descending on their mundane tech like a socially hypercompetent whirlwind. Must be an
experience.
Hunger, meanwhile, has no time for anime shenanigans or geeking out over car engines. There is only SORD.
Hopefully not only SORD soon though.
The power of his ring hampered low-stakes training while enormously amplifying improvements made in actual conflict, so naturally he asked the soldiers if there was any mercenary work available.
"Well yeah, we've got Rotspawn coming in every day of the year. It's not totally out of control, but we've been losing ground week by week." The man looked warily at his sword and cloak. "If you're some sort of... sword-based wizard, we could probably use your help."
Ow. The pain, being called a "Sword-based wizard." Not inaccurate though.
Also, while it's not totally out of control now losing ground constantly is eventually going to put their backs up against the wall. I guess their plan of action is 'Stall until our teenagers with attitude become powerful enough to stomp the Rotbeast,' which given how good Surgecraft's raw power scaling is is not the
worst plan.
"I'm not cheap," Hunger warned, "And I don't work well with others. Don't expect me to integrate into your command structure."
"That's all acceptable," the officer said, "We just care that Rotspawns are destroyed. If you're willing and able to deal with the Rotbeast itself, that would be even more ideal. We can pay in goods and services, or precious metals at a 20% discount."
That was a clever way to dance around the Doom of the Tyrant, playing up the "I work alone" trope. And the locals are desperate enough that they don't consider any of that bad, maybe things are worse then they're letting on?
He tapped a device on his wrist and small leaflet printed from the VTOL's side cabin. "Here, these are the rates we pay to all wandering mercenaries. On the back you'll find a map of the region. We're here, at the border, and the Rotbeast's invasion is alongside this other border, here, with enemy territory beyond. This mountain-range shaped area is the actual Rotbeast."
"Fine. I just need to bring back proof of my kills?"
"That's right. Scalps for ordinary spawn, while Elite and Primary Spawn have cores made of golden crystal. Those are a bit easier to transport."
"Sounds simple enough."
Hmm. Didn't we shatter the cores of some of the things we fought though? I guess if we brought back enough shards they'd be able to piece together how many we killed, and they're probably not going to question someone who can hit hard enough to shatter those cores.
Also, golden crystal cores? That doesn't fit the disease aesthetic very well. I wonder what this Rotbeast's origin is? Could it have been created? If so, is it just an experiment running loose or did someone set it on the Elixir Sovereignty deliberately?
The contested border was well to the opposite side of Sovereignty land, a semi-mountainous region of rocky hills that sloped downwards into an immense swampy forest. It was from that direction that the Rotspawn invasion occurred, a steady flow of weaker beasts intermittently disrupted by the emergence of an Elite. Elixir troops had access to decades-old Imperial surplus, but it was all decommissioned gear, meant to be sold to civilian organizations. They could maintain what they'd purchased, manufacturing munitions to a limited extent, but outright replacement of high-grade gear like Armor Prototypes was beyond them.
Hmm, so any losses to their strongest forces are irreplaceable. If it weren't for the emergence of Surgecraft these people would be in dire straights indeed. As it is they're going to have to transition to magic-based warfare eventually, they'll be unable to keep their current technologies running forever if they have no way to make new ones. Even with maintenance things stop working eventually.
The front line was a series of heavily fortified trenches 'manned' by automated turrets and anchored by mid-sized Armor Prototypes. From Letrizia's earlier remarks, Hunger had gathered that unmanned autonomous craft like bomber drones were adequate for weaker foes, but severely underperformed against peer-level enemies due to a lack of Astral Rank. Though their weapons encampments were more than capable of raking the valley with plasma fire, any group of Elite Rotspawn risked breaching the lines with their focused Pressure.
High rank can bypass temporal concerns like "Massed firepower" or "Overwhelming technological disadvantage". Considering the Prime Rotspawn had more rank then us, I very much doubt anything but those Power Armors with Rank would be able to stop them from just steamrolling the entire Sovereignty, and we've just discussed how those armors are a finite resource. I wonder how an experienced Surgecrafter with a good element, but no rank stacks up against a Rotspawn with good rank but nothing else going for it besides basic physical attacks. That particular matchup is going to determine the future of this civilization probably.
For the most part, the Rotspawn were a ragged and motley lot, corpse-grey limbs twisted and disfigured by the necrotic force of their progenitor, each beast an unnerving medley of animal parts. Their jerky movements and eerie relentlessness made for a disquieting aura.
With the average Rotspawn weaker than Verschlengorge's usual attackers, Hunger was unconcerned by their numbers and took the time to experiment with his sword technique. He mimicked Amarlt's thrusting stance, attempting to capture the intangible purity of that unadorned thrust, but while his strength was more than sufficient to slay Rotspawn in this manner, no special insights came to him in the doing.
It was clear that there were horizons of swordplay far beyond his meagre achievements, and while Amarlt had possessed the soul-based magic of the Outriders, Hunger had the Forebear's Blade, which ought well be capable of surpassing anything the Outrider had done.
Hunger has sword jealousy~ OK really though, having Hunger try to imitate Vanreir is a cute way of him discovering new heights of bladecraft. That duel really left a mark on him, aside from the hole is his spiritual liver anyway. It's kinda cool that Hunger's sword development is explained in such a in-character way. Still, I think it's time for developing something OTHER THEN SWROD. Ahem. Moving on...
An enormous crustacean-like creature thundered abruptly out of the forest, its shell the deep blue of the far ocean, claws rending wood and steel with the schlick of scissors through paper-mache. Between its beady sapphire eyes was a jewel of brilliant gold, the only spot of aberration against a carapace fully blue.
Hunger leapt to its left flank, plunging his blade into that carapace, which folded like a punctured egg before him. With lightning speed it skittered and turned, but he was faster still, darting around to its other flank, dragging his blade to split it widthwise like an oyster. The power of Ruin tore branching seams out from the clean line of that wound, shell shriveling and flaking away all along its thorax.
The creature reared back as if to bellow, but he sprang towards its front, leaping onto the clacking claw-arm to strike directly at its core. As the jewel shattered the creature swiftly went inert, a golden mist like faerie dust spilling from the gem.
That was anticlimactic. He was not Vanreir, but the power of his blade sufficed to dispatch these things with a minimum of fuss. Shaking his head he plunged deeper into the valley, past the plasma-pocked slopes of the grassy hillside and into the territory of the Rotbeast proper. Down into the fetid mist he ran, past the cloying outer perimeter into the heart of the forest, where the ground was soft and putrid but the fog was thick as steel wool.
Elite Rotspawn are just not that big of a deal. Also golden mist hm? Very not Rot-like. I'm firmly convinced that the Rotbeast and spawn are artificial at this point. A creature of disease and foulness being based around a magical golden gem is definitely not a natural magical phenomena. Unless... Maybe the Rotbeast was something else originally, but was corrupted by some kind of magical plague?
A golden creature, beset by foul illness that enrages it, causing it to attack everything around... It's possible. Maybe the thing isn't artificial then? Or not entirely so.
It pressed down upon him, a slightly damp heaviness, a noxious fullness in the lungs. Were he an ordinary man, movement would be impossible under such conditions, but his strength these past weeks had increased by great bounds, and it troubled him little. A pair of crossed slashes dispelled the fog around him, small tempest of wind carving a clearing in the mist. Creatures emerged from that pale soup of fog, half a dozen disjoint monstrosities each bearing a golden jewel upon their brow. Eagerly he set to work.
Ah yes, environmental effects. Always a pain to deal with, unless your stats are so high it just plain doesn't matter. As it is for Hunger in this case. All that False Moon Temple grinding has paid off!
Their speed was explosive, their movements so erratic as to be unpredictable, but that mattered little against him. The complete Forebear's Blade could channel his techniques with perfect efficiency. The windup and exertion associated with his sevenfold strike were reduced to a minuscule fraction, so much so that he could apply the technique to every flick and lash of the blade.
The effects of Uttermost. While I'm loath to compliment a SORD defining advancement, I can't deny its sheer offensive power. While we may someday dearly regret making the Doom of the Tyrant unmitigatable, I don't think we'll ever regret giving ourselves that massive attack power.
Each humming blade-wind dispatched from its edge struck now with murderous force, a staggering crescent of sheer devastation that toppled the Rotspawn, power of Ruin tearing them limb from limb. And yet it was not enough. For all his terrifying speed and force, his was still not the equal of even Vanreir's technique, much less the power of the Forebear that lay slumbering within. What was he missing?
Hunger frowned. One hand was inadequate to the task of handling the restored Forebear's Blade, though its immense destructive force more than compensated for the slight unwieldiness. As he grew in strength, would his lack of limbs become a progressively greater limitation on his technique?
Hm. Hunger's thoughts here about how he really needs another arm don't line up with Rihaku's claims that such is unnecessary. Could it be... *gasp* and unreliable narrator?
Or Hunger is just trying to come up with reasons why he can't use the ultimate sording and keeps going back to the arm because it's a big obvious whole in himself.
Dozens of Elites fell before a greater monster emerged, the fell wind of its Pressure forcing down his shoulders at its approach. The ground beneath him gave way, muck and grime hollowing out as if pressed by an industrial stamp. He leapt back, launching downward blade-winds to go airborne, but every movement felt stilted and slow in the grip of that Pressure, and he was not able to clear the fog as he would've liked.
It emerged at last from the mist, a golden-eyed creature whose skin was bleached pale, its face an uncanny mix of sublime and grotesque, fine-angled bones above a tusk-bristling maw that drooled syrupy blood. Three meters tall at the very least, with four powerful arms, each holding a curiously curved halberd-like weapon.
It was no Tyrant, but this was the greatest disparity of Pressure he'd felt since coming to this Realm. Hunger attacked without hesitation, knowing that the only way out was through, three dozen blade-winds in the blink of an eye sent screaming towards the foe. One arm snapped forth, halberd twirling, each successive arm taking a guard position behind the last. It weathered the storm of his attacks with sullen indifference, though the one projection that got through tore a deep strip of flesh from its cheek.
Cue the boss music. It's hilarious that once again, when we roll for opponent we get one of the most dangerous around. We really don't have great luck on random encounter rolls. Or maybe we do have great luck, because we getting high XP encounters and surviving, accelerating our growth curve. At this point I don't think Bearic stands much of a chance, although if the Moonslavers do have a secret weapon we might need yet more power...
No visibility on the ground, and the earth was unsteady. Too difficult to change directions in midair. He parried the thrown halberd that was the thing's counterattack, jolt of the impact sending cruel shivers down his arm, hurling him backwards. All of a sudden the monster blurred, closing distance with furious speed, and scarce had his arm recovered that he was forced to parry fourfold whirling strikes, the creature having casually recovered the copy thrown as it charged.
This was unsustainable. His stance would break or his bones would. He tumbled to the side, attempting to get within the monster's reach, taking a searing cut to the sternum as he moved. His blood sense gave him a good idea of its future movements, but its overwhelming Pressure prevented much direct influence. He whipsawed his blade as he rolled, firing sword-projections towards the creature's wrists, buying him an instant to move freely.
Sprinting away, he cleared distance, Evening Sky shuddering behind him as it partially absorbed the impact of a thrown halberd, casting him to the ground. Even as he fell he conjured more blade-winds, intent on pressuring it, furiously burning his well of energy to keep it at bay.
I can see why this thing is the worst matchup in the area for us. We have such high offensive power that we can basically win against anything we can hit, but that's all useless if we can't hit the opponent. This particular Rotspawn seems to have high agility and a combat style of applying constant pressure to force opponents on the back foot.
Some vacation this was. In a way this situation mirrored his fears of the Inner Temple: fodder he could basically ignore, commanded by a guardian that was well above him.
Yeah we didn't do a great job with the whole relaxing thing huh? At least coming out of this on top should assuage Hunger's fears about the Temple.
If only he had two arms, blocking would be so much easier. A melee exchange would be more feasible, and in the chaos perhaps he could find an angle, take out its eyes and search for its core...
He knew what he had to do. Cut through, even if it could not be cut. But what did that mean here? Scheming and tricks weren't useful against an inhuman enemy, and unlikely to work given its greater Rank. A single, fulsome attack guided by absolute purity of technique, paring away all that was inessential, mind and blade become void, the path of its stroke an inevitability?
That was Vanreir's art, which he'd tried and failed to imitate. At last he could fire no more blade-winds. Exhausted, he fell to a knee, supporting himself with the Forebear's Blade. It would not take long for this supreme Rotspawn to clear away his swarm of projections, and then it would come for their originator. He could not outrun it for long.
Hunger tries to find the secret technique... And fails! Game Over! Or is it...
The Forebear's Blade had endured untold eons of conflict in its master's hand. Was there some shadow, some imprint of those battles upon its spiritual essence, as there had been for Verschlengorge? He was the Blade and the Blade was him, but even he was not aware of every psychic shadow that swam beneath the waters of his conscious spirit. Desperate as it was, and uncertain, still he had to try. What would the Forebear do?
Was there some secret? Some trick of the blade? Some hidden technique? Some forbidden art? What did the Forebear draw on, when the hour was dire and death approached like the fall of night?
He remembered, for a moment, the cruelest hour of his life, his victory over the Tyrant.
What did the Forebear draw on indeed? Given the later sections about the nature of Cut Through... Did the Forebear lose something, or someone? Go through something that made him into the singularily determined man that he became? Who's Willpower was sufficient to cut through to a deeper layer of reality itself?
It'd be interesting to see that lore... Too bad Once and Future is far off and also not a mage option and therefore unacceptable.
Catherine with hair of gold had thrown herself before the Tyrant's blade. He remembered the cornflower blue of her eyes, bright with unshed tears, her smile of forgiveness and absolute conviction, spill of her hair like a saintess' halo. He remembered his body moving automatically, exploiting the rare opening the Tyrant had presented him, culmination of ten thousand drills and desperate fighting retreats.
"Win." She'd whispered as he passed her by, her final words on this earth. "Win. That's all that matters."
We finally get the name of Hunger's wife! And two lines from her! And a description! Compared to what we had before, that's like an entire book series!
Seriously why did it take this long for us to get more details? Is thinking about Catherine that painful for Hunger? Poor dude needs therapy more then I thought, which was already a lot...
He remembered the final upward stroke of the Blade as it shattered against the Tyrant's flesh, shards like shrapnel rounds tumbling out and through, the excruciating fire as his soul splintered alongside his weapon. He remembered the final gasping moments as the Tyrant expired at last, body reduced to a slurry of blood and ruin, shell of his murderer standing wide-eyed and broken above him.
He would never discard that memory. He would never cut it away in the pursuit of mere strength. That memory was his strength. It was the reason he'd chosen vengeance when the Accursed had offered happiness instead.
Vanreir's path would never be his own. The Forebear's Blade demanded something else. Something heavier. Something crueler. He recalled - the heft, the mountainous solidity of the Blade in hand, the terrible crushing momentum of its falling stroke, the sharp bitter bite of its edge like ice against marrow -
Grief. Fury. Regret. And the indestructible resolve created thereby. That was its well, the tenor if its strength, wrapped heavy around the limbs like a funeral shroud, such weight and horror that it felt as though he were sinking into the world, sinking down beneath it, tearing through the meager filaments of its foundation to the impossible blue beneath -
The Forebear was apparently a very sad and angry man. I wonder what he lost...
Also, the imagery of carrying emotions so heavy you sink down through the world and find the power that lies beneath... So good. Maybe not conducive to a healthy lifestyle though.
Jumping back the the Forebear a bit, this explains Undying Vanguard. If the Forebear was primarily driven by Grief, Fury, and Regret, it would make a lot of sense for him to develop an ability that let him protect the people he had left.
Cut. The Cut of the Forebear was not a thing of separation. Its purpose was not so shallow and feeble a task as the mere division of one object from another.
The Forebear used his cut to murder his enemies. That was its purpose. The avalanche force of his Blade bearing down, the pure inevitability of its falling arc - this was not a thing of beauty, nor grace to be admired; not a technique of prowess and certainly no way of life. It was merely, and nothing less than, a thing that took lives.
There was no treachery here, merely Age, merely the hammered-down experience of a billion brutal eons made a single blade of steel and hate. Failure to imitate was only an excuse. Lack of arms was only an excuse. Enemy Pressure was only an excuse. The Forebear had no patience for excuses. Neither did his Blade.
Murder, even if it cannot be murdered. That was the essence of his Cut.
"A billion brutal eons". Didn't the Forebear die of old age? How does that translate to him apparently living for so long?
The more we learn about the man the more mysterious he becomes. The "Forebear was a Cursebearer" camp has more fuel to add to their fire it looks like. Or if not a Cursebearer, perhaps he was our predecessor in seeking to down the hidden ones. Even with Progression we won't be able to face them within finite time... Perhaps the billion brutal eons were the Forebear's attempt to grow strong enough. Maybe he failed in the end, although the idea of failure is not one that resonates with what we know of him. Perhaps what he hated was not the Hidden Ones, but some other great power that is gone from the world now, their non-existence testament to the Forebear's determination. Perhaps after completing his quest he allowed himself to die of old age, content with his life.
Slowly he advanced, a juggernaut building momentum, Blade aloft and pointed at his enemy. The muck beneath sucked and pulled at him, threatening to drive him under, but sheer inertia kept him in-line as the foe stupidly lunged to meet him. Down came the halberds, but he did not bother blocking. They transfixed him, skewering him four ways, but could not stop him, could barely slow his advance as he tore through, himself impaling, torso falling away, streaming contrails of blood as he finally entered range.
He struck at last, calling to mind all the wretched moments of his long insurgency war, hate and sorrow weighing him down, giving him heft, heft become force, force become might, and the might of his cut split reality at the seams, smashed through the eye-wall of his enemy's Pressure and into its guts and back and through and beyond and further beyond.
Great description in general. The line at the end though stands out to me - "Beyond and Further Beyond." Words that mean something else, to us. Rihaku is fond of using phrases like that... However, something is missing. The "Even Further Beyond." Perhaps that is because our swrod is current equivalent to the Royal Praxis, and only once we reach the heights of the Imperial Praxis can we have been said to have gone "Even Further Beyond."
He twisted the Blade, an upwards diagonal cut, separating its head and right shoulder from the mass of its body. A downward strike of the pommel, and that body became a morass of flesh and shattered bone. At last his Ring could keep him alive no longer.
The wake of his blade was a cold fathomless blue, like the eyes of the Armament that day at the lake.
The Praxis blue... See my thoughts at the start of this post. And the Armament's eyes had turned that color - I think we can safely say that the Foremost had access to Praxis of some sort. Perhaps if we can find some of their stuff we can use it to further develop our blade style...
Praehihr, it'd called him. Accursed Implement. His wraith form stepped free of his corpse, staring at what he had wrought, the blue fading slowly from the plane of this world, leaving scars of mere reality in its wake.
Sparing nothing, he'd charged into his enemy's attack, charged until he could cut through. Perhaps Vanreir had taught him something after all.
Hunger smiled. This was turning out to be a great vacation.
Ah, of course, it's a terrible vacation until you get a new toy, then it's great! Hunger really is the embodiment of the thread...
[X] Cut Through, [X] Study the Blade and [X] Hot Springs has won. Overexertion has torn your spirit and its bodily template. Suffer the effects of Punctured Soul with the penalties halved, and the physical penalty halved again due to Quickening. The Hot Springs has cured your Chill of the Grave and Lingering Paralysis conditions.
Condition is bleh, but at least we got rid of our two minor conditions? They weren't really the ones we were worried about though...
And hey, how come we got no wordcount into the Hot Springs visit itself! We thought there was going to be Gisena teasing!
[ ] +1 pick below
[ ] +1 re-roll for major check
[ ] Upgrade Letrizia's Magic (from 2 Arete-equivalent to 7-Arete equivalent)
With the revelation that Surgecraft is the system, I think there's no excuse for not upgrading Letrizia's magic. A 7 Arete Surge would make her a lot more versatile.
Of course, if people are planning on leaving her behind after the Voyaging Realm, then it would make sense. I'd like to keep her around though, she's fun.
Slaying the Prime Rotspawn has yielded 3 picks, +0.5 Arete. You now have 4.1 Arete.
I'm only going to cover the things I think are relevant from the build vote. Might as well not waste space (as if Reaction Posts weren't an extended exercise in saying things in as many words a possible...)
[ ] The King Stands Alone - 7 Arete
The king is unswayed. The king is unbowed. That is why, he is the king.
So long as you wield a sword, then when outnumbered, you may treat conflict as a succession of one-on-one duels against each individual opponent. So long as you wield a sword, cap the effects of Rank higher than yours at 'overwhelming advantage' in any direct contest. You may cut through mental and spiritual attacks. +++Willpower.
Takes Arete away from Imaginary Element, and thus is automatically bad.
OK, it's actually quite good because Willpower is a ridiculous stat for us now. But we know we can get most of this via picks with the Sward Praxis, and we'll only have one opportunity for getting a great Surge. And I'd like to get a great Surge so we can avoid having a massive fight about magic systems again the next time an opportunity comes up. Just let me have my mage thing already, I'm tired of throwing arguments at it.
[ ] Fierce Quickening
[ ] Vigor Itself
[ ] Augment Dominion: Blood
The "Blood Buffs" plans that have been floating around are quite good, but I prefer getting the extra hand for Surge casting. Also blood buffs are easier to get later because we can pick them up from 1-pick fights, like random Astrals or easy fights we get into on the way back from the Temple. It's more efficient to use those to pick up 1-pick blood buffs then to spend an opportunity to get a high-pick choice on a bunch of little ones.
[ ] Evening Sky - Opalescence
[ ] Evening Sky - Iridescence - 2 Arete
Poor Evening Sky... Some day we'll get buffs for you.
Or not, since Uttermost kinda screws over Protection. Maybe we'll get Philosopher's Wreath at some point or something.
[ ] Prime - +.3 Astral Rank
Very good, the last time we saw one of these it was only a +0.2, and we also get the bonus from Uttermost now. So it's actually 0.39 I think. I prefer having the extra hand for Surge casting, but I wouldn't be at all upset if this wins.
[ ] Forebear's Blade - Ruinous Valor (3 picks)
Get that extra hand for Sword and Sorcery. Well Sword and Surgecraft, maybe we'll get sorcery later.
Also ya'll have corrupted me every time I try to type "Sword" it comes out either "Sord" or "Swrod." Then I have to either change it or decide not to bother.
[ ] Forebear's Blade - Dreadnought's Bearing (7 Arete, 3 picks)
Rune King continues to be top tier but there's not a lot of support for this option, and we're awfully short on Arete. We have that Imaginary Element Vote, then Ruling Ring completion, and to really take advantage of Rune King we need one or more magic systems and the good ones cost Arete, oh yeah and part of Dreadnought's power is tied up in Iron Curtain synergy, and that costs another 7 Arete.
It would be rather thematic for us to get this right after the update where Hunger was learning imitating the Forebear's philosophy, but I can't find a way to justify it.
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So the conclusion I've come to is that we never have enough Arete. Well, at least this will help by like a fraction of a point.
