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A Simple Transaction I

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Made some quick animation of smol Hunger moving. Haven't gotten the shadow down to my satisfaction yet, and the keyframes are pretty shoddily made. Will come back to animating in a bit, drawing something else for now.

 
[X] Fine
[X] Maximal Greed

I really dislike the fact that people in their desire to save Arete put us into a fight that we can't win without spending Arete, instead of a few safe infiltration updates that would allow us to earn everything that we spent and give us a possible ally on the Inner Council. I am not willing to sacrifice an ally I wanted to bring with us for that mistake, but I will generate some Arete to bring us to an EFB we were aiming to buy anyway.
 
[X] Maximum Safety
[X] Fine

Can't put too much time into it right now, but while the stances don't go into an EFB, we didn't want to have them do so anyway. They are also very good in their own rights in their respective fields.

I'm fine with taking Shadowcord for the help, because even if the omake storm is successful it's less likely to succeed than the above.
 
Byzantine said:
it does indeed. Though some reactions are going to suck regardless. Like my most recent one was really fucking depressing. The mindset Hunger had to get Cut Through just solidifies my desire to stay far, far away from the forebear.
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The way we played Hunger, from Doylist perspective, that whole "Victory is all that matters" death of Hunger's wife really fucked Hunger up something fierce. Unfucking that probably needs to come from relationship with other people.

I got a lot of hopes hinging on Gisena, to be honest. As of the latest couple of updates, she is aware of the damages, and been trying to get Hunger to loosen up a little since pretty much very start. If anything, that relationship is probably the straw that could potentially held us from plunging into the abyss.

Putting some more attention of Letrz's being a child soldier could also help Hunger with some self-perspective, I suppose, but that aspect of Letrz-Hunger relationship hasn't been getting much attention at all. Perhaps once we come to the Human Sphere?..
 
Byzantine said:
For the same reason I'm trying despite having begged people to not take the Marshal: It's a dick move to intentionally throw the thread to the dogs because you didn't get what you want, and force other people to do the work of stopping it from being suicidal.
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No, it isn't?

If the thread generates enough Arete, then we get Crimson Flare (which I didn't want, but it's an EFB at least). If it doesn't, then there's a high (?) chance of death. As someone who was a proponent of Praxis, the latter is basically a non-factor to me.

You can choose whatever you wish instead, and convince others to do so. I'm not going to stop you at all.
 
It's late where I'm at, but I'm going to see if I can get together a reaction or something to help with points. It's a bit unfair of me not too considering I'm going all in for Greed to get the flare. It might have to wait till tomorrow as sleep is really playing her siren song, and I wouldn't expect it to be shakespear, but I'll try and get at least something in even if it's while dealing with work before Rihaku throws a update up.
 
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Byzantine said:
No. No it is not. It is more or less the most horrifying thing ever, and I am greatly disturbed by the people who are so willing to trade mutilation for power.

And this is coming from someone with no attachment to their humanity whatsoever.
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Maybe you just have a lot of attachment to the human bodyform? Losing bodyparts doesn't make someone more -or less- human.

Personally I'm waiting for when I can connect my mind directly to a computer so I can transcend this feeble form of flesh.
 
Taka said:
...

Garbled shouts echoed in the clearing. Distant in his ears for all he could hear was the lance unlodging itself from the Rotspawn beneath him. His eyes told him he still held the weapon, more than the unfelt grip around it. There was a crackle in his ear, a stream of questions soon followed. He moved a step forward and faced in full the remaining Elite Rotspawn.

It was a hideous thing. Tall as a house, with far too much muscle. Its four legs exuded strength beyond compare, as if one swipe could tear down an entire convoy. Toxic breath billowed from its opened maw, lined with yellowed and rotten fangs. Even as it stalked to the side, its hide showcased, the beast belied no straightforward weakness. And, far as these things went, there would be some form of trump card.

A deep breath had color return to the world. Alongside came words. With them, understanding of how overwhelming the monsters before him were. Though injured on both sides, only his own had maimed and crippled fighters. Jennifer had been kind enough to rattle out specifics. Loss of limbs. Expended equipment. 'An actual raft with no paddle up shit creak.'

Nine always did feel envy at her eloquence.

"Run." The mercenary, youngest of them all, ordered. Intent and pressure, a blade that cut apart the hysterics. He swung his broken lance, as it brimmed with so much power that it practically glowed. Faint light traced in its wake. His body loose, despite the exhaustion of his very soul. A figure that brooked no argument.
But one did not live to become a leader without being headstrong. And much like their leader, the others too sounded out their disagreements. It was an array of dissent. Disbelief and concern. Snark and bitterness. Yet all of them, all the same, wanted everyone to survive. Including the brat who tried to wear a pair of boots too big.

"I'll catch up. I Promise."

There was no other choice. No other feasible plan. He had agreed himself into forging ahead despite the risks. Pushed the idea into fruition. Therefore, he held a responsibility that others did not pay for his actions. Hans was not here. Kennedy was in no position to assist. Him staying behind, then, was no leap of logic. Besides. He made a promise. Those weren't meant to be broken, in spite of what others might say.

The concord in his ear died out. Silenced. "Fffuck, Nines. Don't make Izmerel cry." And with those words, the line went dead. Affirmation enough that they were on board with this suicidal plan of his. Immediately did his mind tear them away. Unburdened his ailing strength from notions and ideas that did not contribute to piercing through.

Man and Rotspawn locked gazes. Naught but ferocity reflected. Crimson eyes roared.

Experience molded his form. Intent forged his strike. Nine numbed himself from the pain and exhaustion, and tore at the strength that dared to hide from him. The faint glow of his lance became incandescent. "Come on, Nine...!"A quiet scream ripped itself from his lips as he fired the broken lance. Razor sharp lines formed into an ethereal arrowhead, tails of lightning coalescing into a singular point.

Distance immaterial; the projectile lined up to pierce through the exposed throat.

Yet was the Rotspawn a mere target? Were it not given a nomenclature of an Elite? Attempts at its life required more than just the bravado of a child. Its wild mane, seemingly inert, moved. Petals of fur that hardened enough to push the projectile down, ricocheting it to the earth. The impact gouged out the soil even as the Rotspawn lunged forward. Its bound was a sight that promoted fear. Encompassing in its size, no optimistic falsehood existed where a normal human would survive upon its landing.

A wall of capsules turned lances barred its entrance.

"I am!" Its dive halted, the Rotspawn was a moment too slow. "Sick and tired!" A fourth lance blurred by its leg, Nine following soon after. Both arms swung with all their might, a cleaving strike that left a spray of blood in its wake. "Of you Astral-damned fucks!" The force behind the swing bled into momentum as Nine spun the lance and dug the back to the earth. Again, the lance head burned with energy as the frightful paw came swiping.

The mercenary braced both himself and his lance. Hardened rot-flesh gave way to the lance, even as the strength of the swipe followed through. Smacked away from his position, his pathetic body absorbed what force the weapon could not. Bones broke while his insides screamed. It felt as if molten flames trickled down his veins.
He heard not his own screams nor succumbed to the ending sensation. By sheer force of will did Nine force his broken left to respond. As if renewed with vigor did it respond. More spare lances came into play as the red eyed mercenary began to treat them as arrows. One after the other, filled to the brim with strength taken from his very being, struck at the Rotspawn. Some, the beast deflected with its mane. Others, lodged into its form.

A walking pincushion of lances yet its strength did not wane. With equal severity did it exchange strikes with the bag of flesh. Claws had rend apart armor and flesh. Its sharpened fangs clipped past narrow dodges, even as noxious blood began to drip from its gums. It took so little strength to rip apart entire trees from its roots, what more for meat unstrengthen? But for reasons it could not fathom, the bug continued to attack.

Little things, these lances. It stung, and it hurt. Yet these toothpicks forced it to obey. To change course. To adapt to something that need not be adapted to. The continued escalation bewildered it, however. Every strike contained even more power. Its own blood leaving its body faster than before. Its maw opened, a chasm of futility. But the jaws of defeat oft found itself subverted through narrative influence. And for Nine, who dared write a story beyond his own means, cared little for what stood in his way.

Uncontainable. A lance raised forth by a boy, thrown by he who now was a Man. His path had been found. Heart, in full acceptance of what he was. There were no need for heroic dreams. To be untarnished. A symbol of hope and peace. Through his own blood. His own sacrifice. Each scar a memory. Each injury a lesson. All he needed to do was pick up his lance. And fight. And fight. And fight until his goal was achieved. Even death would be denied, if only until in service of his objective.

It carried the heat of a thousand suns. Of a life time of hardships and his own future thereof. A mundane lance, now a bolt of lightning. Blood red. Grander than even salvation. Elevate to something even further beyond. To a realm not meant for humanity. For but a moment, become the brightest flame.


Bequeathed with all that he was, is, and could ever be, the lance flew.



"Just a bit more. I'll be back, soon enough."



Onwards, for everyone's tomorrow.


…



…


...




-----

… [9] The Promises Of A Man.

1221 Words.
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Thanks for writing that Taka, I've enjoyed the adventures of [9] a great deal!
 
Shard said:
Maybe you just have a lot of attachment to the human bodyform? Losing bodyparts doesn't make someone more -or less- human.

Personally I'm waiting for when I can connect my mind directly to a computer so I can transcend this feeble form of flesh.
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In fairness, I think most people irl with our current technology would balk at losing many of the organs Hunger has. I try not to reveal too much personal info online but I say this as someone who deals with visions related issues, sight is especially dear to quite a many people, and I can't blame anyone for feeling squeamish at the thought of having that diminish by losing one of your eyes permanently.

Edit: That said, I am able to take a step back and while i'm invested in hunger's happiness, I don't blame people for finding Rune King a cool option. To SHatter Heaven on all our magics is pretty great.
 
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Taka said:
1221 Words.
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[9]7

[X] Unacceptable

S A V E

[X] Somewhat Safe

If even Maximal Greed has a chance to execute a wounded fighting retreat, I think Somewhat Safe should be able to manage while still working towards an EFB, one that's extremely relevant to our current circumstances because it's just pure power with no investment required. It's a snap buy too, which makes it even better.

Too bad we didn't pick Gondar.

[X] Maximal Greed

That said, should we miraculously make it to 24 Arete, Crimson Flare would be pretty sweet as for a R A N K build.
 
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BrainInAJar said:
A man is more than his Vengeance, however much it may consume him. It would do us well to remember that.
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Yeah. @Byzantine is right; I can definitely see Hunger's path just tearing him the fuck apart eventually to the point where even if he becomes all-powerful, or rather all-powerful second only to the Accursed, and even if he achieves all his goals of revenge and the restoration of his friends and family... he'll have effectively lost everything and be a shell of a man- or 'that which he hates.'

He needs to be more than a reckless-for-power revenge monster.

DkArthas said:
I mean Hunger has already done so. Doom of the Tyrant is greater and deeper than losing body parts.
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Yeah, and I don't like the part where it is now nigh-unmitigatable, though there is at least some hope since there's an EFB that lets us at least put a fucking dent in it now and then.

Shard said:
Maybe you just have a lot of attachment to the human bodyform? Losing bodyparts doesn't make someone more -or less- human.
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Yeah, but Hunger's giving up stuff that's more essentially human (the ability to compromise with other people, having any real semblance of a fear of death...), and the physical sacrifices of body parts seem to be hitting him on a symbolic/magical level as well as the gross physical level.

A guy with one eye isn't less human than a guy with two eyes, in and of himself. But a guy who traded an eyeball for magical knowledge is always going to be a bit more of an outsider and a stranger to the human condition than would otherwise be the case.

Odin was not "one of the guys," you know?
 
I think we have probably crossed that line several times given our votes. And given the votes we will likely make in the future.

Ultimately Hunger is a character in a quest and is not us. Rihaku's poll on what option we would take given the option of being a Cursebearer personally revealed that most voters would select a significantly less extreme option than what Hunger selected in-story.
 
"For a child, you showed some real promise there."​

...?

"Come now, confusion?
You've been cursing in my name I'd have to be deaf not to hear it."​

What's happening?

"I suppose that this is par the course. You won't be the first addled voyager.
You won't be the last."​

Wasn't I supposed to be dead?

"Well, you're not wrong there.
You obliterated your right arm throwing that weapon of yours.
Ribs are as good as dust. Lungs? Corroded beyond repair by the gas.
Managing to stand long enough for until the Rotspawn died was,
honestly, the last miracle in a string of other miracles."​

Is that me?

"Oh, quite, yes. You stood tall, even as a corpse!
Color me impressed, child. Here, look."​

…!

"Speechless, I see. Exquisite, isn't it?
Those eyes of yours are something to behold. Not quite Top 5 material but then again,
that's comparing it to actual legends who were 'beyond compare.'"​

Beyond...compare?

"Ah, yes, yes.
People of such prowess in their own fields that songs
and stories
have been handed through time...and even space."​

…

"Is that interest I smell, child?
You are!
Oh, joy!
Well then...should I introduce myself? Hmm...if you become strong enough I might.
I might! Show up again, introduce myself properly then."​

Such theatrics...

"And theatrics are but fun and games for beings such as I, child!
Now..."

"Do you wish to enter into a transaction,
child?"​

A transaction?

"Unbounded progress.
Strength and knowledge beyond compare!
Allllll for the small, itty bitty, infinitesimal price of entertaining
me."​

…

"Whaddaya say? You've got a promise to keep too, don't you, child?"​

---

Continue ?

[ ] Where do I sign?

[ ] I refuse.​

280 words.

Part 0 - End
 
Well, something got done before I hit the bed. The internet fixed itself quickly, which was lucky. I'll try to see if I can crank up another one after I go to bed.

Rihaku said:
Hunger had an uneasy feeling as he carved through the legions of the Outer Temple, rushing headlong towards the Middle once more. He was making visible progress every day, growing in strength and proximity to the Imprisoned, but some ill premonition dogged him still, a feeling that, despite the life-and-death battles he'd participated in, the real challenge was still to come.
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Ahh, isn't it nostalgic when Vanreir was considered the "real challenge" of the Temple? Good times. As of writing this; we're about to face a guy that could eat him for breakfast, with similar odds of survival! I wish this hadn't become our routine sometimes. Then I read one of Rihaku's fight scenes and that feeling instantly vanishes. I may have a problem.

Don't know where Hunger gets these weird feelings though, likely Rank. I wish we had access to Hunger's sort of premonition when it came to thread decisions, that would make things a lot easier!
Rihaku said:
Focused exclusively on blood enhancement, his strength, speed, and regeneration all had increased prodigiously after the fight with the Archer, though his ranged attacks had benefited most of all. Now his blade-winds and projections struck with singing force, curving and dancing across the battlefield with easy fluidity, far less taxing to employ than before. With a substantial exertion of self, he could compress the power of his strikes even further, folding seven cuts into a single blow that would rend flesh and spirit alike.
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Hunger enjoying the after-effects of taking Quickening. Something we seem to take for granted now felt a lot more wondrous then. I suppose that's one of the downsides of Progression, seeing power pass you by so quickly. What a first world problem to have. Sad it never seems enough though, but that's just the path we chose.
Rihaku said:
Such power had served him well, rendering the entirety of the Outer Temple a trivial exercise, and yet...
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Man, traveling the Outer Temple feels like ages ago. At this point it would be not worth mentioning even, just "they came, they died". Hasn't even been a week! Progression sure is scary.
Rihaku said:
The residents of the Middle Temple treated the Outer as nothing more than ablative armor, its autonomous armies culling the chaff from those unfortunates bound to the Temple's call. Any who made it to the Middle were controlled via carefully selected incentives, the carrot of bribery and the stick of the Outriders acting in concert to neuter the outsider threat. Even the weakest Outrider patrols seemed a match for the mightiest beasts of the Outer Temple.
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Weird strategy in retrospect. I mean, why have the Outer Temple at all when you could just have Outriders patrol? Or just have the autonomous defenses support the Outriders in this? It is called the "Ritual Grounds", so I'm sure it has some properly terrifying secret behind it. Maybe all those Knights in armor are the bound souls of dead adventurers? Hmm, that doesn't sound scary nor important enough. Maybe dead adventurer's souls are the materials of the elusive Star-Forges? Maybe the the Temple needs to separated into three parts for obscure magical reasons? Can't think of a third motive.

Hm, maybe they just like the aesthetic! They'd be in good company, then.
Rihaku said:
If the Middle represented so great an increase in sophistication over the Outer, then what did that bode for the Ring's guardian itself? For all that his rate of progression had been absurd, was he growing strong enough, fast enough, in the fields that mattered against so versatile and well-resourced a foe? This was no single monster, to be baited and easily hunted. It was an entire civilization bent to the purpose of keeping their Ring imprisoned and extracting its value thereby. Was his own power too linear, too physically focused, to overcome them?
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We haven't really fixed this at all, have we? Edeldross is a start, but until we develop Graces it's still just something for making basic shapes with and buffing us. Not really a change in the linearity department. This might bite us in the ass as early as next update! Oh, Shadowlord, you were too good for this sinful world. Maybe next time we will have developed some relevant Graces! If there's a next time, that is.
Rihaku said:
But for all that he could doubt his chances of success, there was no doubt as to his course of action. He would cut through, until the Ring was freed.
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And how did you Cut Through, my boy. You Cut Through good.

It's a shame such dogged determination is wasted following such dunderheads such as us. Maybe if I self-deprecate enough, I will finally have peace with our terrible decision making. Hasn't worked out so far though.
Rihaku said:
Mid-morning saw him in the Middle Temple again, deep past the bucolic pastures of its outskirts and into civilization proper, densely-populated towns of high medieval architecture separated by sweeping, carefully regimented fields of crops. In the valley between two towns he spotted an ongoing battle: A one-armed swordsman in grey Outrider leathers against a figure clad in unadorned plate. It was going poorly for the latter, puncture holes dotting their torso, the heavy steel of their armor rent and ruptured around each exit wound.
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Man, these guys have based an entire civilization around unimaginable torture of a sapient being and they haven't even elevated most of the population from the Medieval level? Come on, what the hell is this?

Like, I've heard it argued before that walking away from Omelas into modern society is incredibly hypocritical since the modern world produces far more constant suffering to far more individuals than a single child, and you'd basically be choosing the bigger suffering that's so big you you can't comprehend it and abandoning the lesser evil because you can understand it. A million deaths is just a static, after all.

But if they produce suffering on top of this just so a certain class of people becomes more incredibly more privileged, what's the point? In a sense, the Azure Ring is no different than the countless other victims of the Inner Council, and deserves saving just as much as any of them. Propping up an unjust system in the name of safety is just prolonging suffering in the long run. These people deserve at least a modern standard of living!

Anyway, the battle. The other R-type versus Vanreir. Seemed to be a robot? I think Hunger would recognize something like that from his original world if remembers anime. Maybe it's just a magically animated suit of armor or some sort of golem. Who knows?
Rihaku said:
The swordsman spotted him out of the corner of his eye and swiftly attacked, jabbing with his blade in Hunger's direction. His movement was a blur even to the Cursebearer, and scarce had Hunger interposed the Evening Sky before it was pierced easily through, a wound sprouting across his lower torso. Whipping his cloak around he sprinted behind a nearby hill, blocking the swordsman's line of sight.
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RIP Evening Sky, the most loyal trooper of all. Dutifully trying to protect us from our own mistakes!

Man, Vanreir was basically an aimbot, huh? His thrust ignores range, but he seems to need to aim it at something given evading line of sight worked. Must be some sort of conceptual limitation; the attack always hits the target, but can't be done if it doesn't target something? It's almost a spell, really; but instead of Fist it's Thrust. Huh, that came out a bit wrong.
Rihaku said:
A perfect shot to the liver, punching clean through to daylight. Were it not for his Ring of Blood, it would quickly become a lethal wound. As it was, the relatively small cross-section of the attack meant it would only be the inconvenience of seconds. And yet there was no time to lose. Once the outrider dispatched his current opponent, Hunger would be next, and the enemy's incredible speed meant that pursuit would not favor him. What did he know so far? High physical parameters, already wounded, ranged thrust attacks with apparently infallible aim. His best solution was to meet offense with offense.
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Damn, "killed" in one blow, that guy doesn't fuck around. Seeing that our defense is completely inadequate, going all in on offense seems to be a correct response, especially when he's preoccupied with that other guy! Obvious tactics so far.
Rihaku said:
Wasting no further instants, he quickly leapt out from the hillside, launching a sevenfold blade projection directly at the swordsman as he charged. Eyes flickering briefly, the enemy intercepted his blade projection with one of his own, the thrust every bit the equal of the cut, spearing it in twain. Collapsed blade-force carved a meters-deep divot into the ground as the attack folded in on itself.
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Wow, that was disheartening to read. Literally parried our cut. It's kind of cool imagery, and very clear to me too. This guy's thrusts are ridiculous.
Rihaku said:
Hunger was already lunging, sword like a flickering thresher as he fired forward consecutive blade-winds, Ring of Blood flaring to exacerbate the outrider's wounds and repair his own. Without hesitation the swordsman turned to face him, effortlessly countering the swarm of blade-winds while a strategically placed thrust put a hole through Hunger's heart.
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Stop killing us dude!

How embarrassing, all our efforts perfectly countered while still giving a powerful reply! While the Ring is debuffing him no less! Vanreir was a scary dude.
Rihaku said:
A critical organ for most, but not for the bearer of the Blood Ring. Without so much as breaking stride Hunger continued brazenly forward, and the swordsman was forced to leap back in order to avoid a close-range grapple. At that moment the armored figure fired, its arm falling away to reveal a cannon-like apparatus before launching a thunderous salvo.
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Lol, how shocking it must be to explode someone's heart and have them not even notice. Shame he was prepared for the charge, but oh well.

He has a cannon for an arm; I had forgotten about that. Maybe he was a robot after all, or a weird magitech version of one anyway.
Rihaku said:
With unerring grace the outrider shifted in midair, blur of his sword a deflecting dance to answer the storm of bullets. Hunger joined in, charging again for the grapple, exerting the full power of his Ring to denude his enemy's blood in erratic, disorienting fits. At last the swordsman appeared to falter, but sensing a feint Hunger juked to the side in the moment before contact. Wisely so, as the outrider spun and thrust twice, displaying heretofore-unseen speed even as his blood was further suppressed. Light jabs both, but Hunger felt his eye put out all the same, and a corresponding groan from the armored figure.
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Vanreir continues being Imba, how annoying. The tactic to disorient him didn't really work, it was almost turned against us! Luckily Hunger is smarter than all of us, we would have fell for that 100% of the time given our tendencies.

And our tactic to blind him was turned against us! This guy, I swear. Good thing we have our blood sense. All our tactics so far have been useless, either outright or because we can't execute them due to a sheer gap in ability. The tyranny of power in action. Again, good thing Hunger is smarter than us!
Rihaku said:
Blind, but he still had his blood sense. No time for despair. And yet what could he do? The enemy was simply too fast, his reflexes too sharp, form and instincts impeccable, every attack landing exactly where it was placed. Desperately he exuded raw Pressure, sheer murderous intent, the cruel shining sun of his spirit blazing ceaselessly over his foe. At this finally the swordsman relented, reeling under that supernal might. For all his strength, there was a seam in this outrider's spirit, a thin dividing line that was only imperfectly sealed.
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When in doubt, use Rank. The godstat once again. He might outstat us in every other way, but not in this! We have successfully pinned him for once. If only we had some sort of soul-based attack to exploit the fault-line between him and his father...

Hmm, would Cut Through work here? It does work at a higher conceptual level; whose to say it can't harm the soul? We'd probably be doing it by the seat of our pants though. To be fair, it wouldn't be any different from all the other times?
Rihaku said:
And yet, how to exploit this weakness? His uttermost extrusion of Pressure had given the man pause, but it was not feasible to continue for long. A spirit-rending attack could harm him for sure, but he had no way of targeting that specific fault-line, and no way to reliably land such an attack against an enemy of this speed. If he let up the pressure for even a moment, the outrider would have time enough to prepare a serious thrust targeting Hunger's brain, and that would be the death of this flesh body. His ghost form, bereft of blood to enhance, would be completely outclassed by this foe. Idly he noted that the armored figure, his erstwhile ally, had no blood at all.
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RIP; no blood to buff! Couldn't you at least have some oil or something mister robot?

The start of Second Form as a liability instead of an asset. How annoying, for a two Arete purchase to end up like this; but such is the fate of anti-synergy. We really gotta fix that at some point.
Rihaku said:
He felt more than heard that figure's next movement, steamroller charge of pure crushing force, fury and clangor like an ironworks onrushing. Hunger redoubled the expulsion of his Pressure, hollowing himself out, pinning-in-place the outrider by sheer verity of spirit. Even so, at the last moment he felt the enemy throw off his influence, violent force as the outrider's very soul seemed to nearly rupture in twain, one-half of it absorbing the brunt of his assault so that the other could go free.
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Our temporary robot friend tries to take advantage of the Rank pin! The description of them as a "steamroller" and as an "ironworks" suggests to me this was a steampunk robot, of all things. It just gives off that impression, given the whole "onrushing train" ultimate move bit.

Man, it couldn't end right there, could it? His father's soul split himself so he could counter the charge. What a sacrifice; is this the power of filial piety? Considering the effects of this Soul Fusion on Vanreir, this must have also hurt like a bitch.
Rihaku said:
There was a clap of thunder.

Blind and briefly spent, Hunger could barely react to the outside world as he marshaled his reserves once more. Through his bloodsense he saw the figure of the swordsman, blade outstretched, and heard the tinkling of armor plates falling to the ground.
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It seems breaking the pin also dazed Hunger as a consequence. Some sort of conceptual feedback after pouring so much of yourself into suppressing him?

It seems that was enough time for Vanreir to break our companion's charge. What a shame.
Rihaku said:
Slowly his Ring's regeneration restored his sight. The swordsman was a ragged ruin, raw muscle and bone naked to the winds, blood dribbling and pooling from countless tears across his form. In the last instant he must have met the incoming armor with a counter-charge of his own, a full-bodied piercing lunge that cored out the mass of plate in a single fell stroke. Indeed, there was a swordsman-shaped exit blown out the back of the hulking machine, which now slowly toppled. Of course, such an attack left no protection for its executor against the terrible crushing momentum of the armored figure's charge.
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Wow, that's kind of cartoonish.

Dude is flayed alive and still more dangerous than us. Again what a dude. It seems "Pierce, even if it cannot be pierced" extends to piercing even when it would be a bad idea, huh. Still, I can relate. Don't read too much into that.
Rihaku said:
Panting, Hunger gave his opponent a nod of acknowledgement. He could respect the tenacity, the sheer force of will behind his unswerving technique.
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Of all the things that would be key to victory, I don't think Hunger would have considered that it would be this gesture going in. Still, the smallest actions can have the biggest consequences, for both good and bad. This nod spelled Vanreir's defeat.
Rihaku said:
Politely, the outrider inclined his own head. Neither had the strength in this moment to summon an attack capable of bringing his opponent low. Hunger could only hope that the Ring of Blood rejuvenated him faster than the swordsman adapted to his own wounds. Trauma that would have killed a normal man seemed to only briefly faze him. Under the influence of his Ring, very little blood now remained in the man's veins, but the outrider stood stoic and nearly upright, a blade bent but unbroken. And like a blade, chipped and marred, damage to his physical form would weaken, but fail to render useless, so long as the edge was sharp.
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Flayed, exsanguinated, missing an arm, eye and lung; and still has most of his strength. His Soul Evocation is some shit; it works as long as he can lift up his blade. I'd call this unfair, but we are a Progression type Cursebearer, so...

Rihaku said:
"Vanreir, Amarlt," said the outrider, breathing heavily still, his voice a whispery croak. "The strength, of your spirit, is commendable."

"The spirit," Hunger remarked, his breaths equally ragged, "is willing; but the flesh, is weak."

Vanreir raised his hand and waved it slightly, as if to say that he had seen worse.
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Hah, that's not usually the situation in which I hear this reply. This is certainly quite the exchange if you don't have any context!

Rihaku said:
Slowly, painfully, he turned his blade to face Hunger, its tip pointed unsteadily at his eye.

"I, regret, the necessity of this," he said, "but know, that it's for, a good cause."
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Ah, the things we tell ourselves to prop up a tyrannical regime. I suppose few people have something so blatant as a little sister they're trying to protect though. How convenient for the Inner Council!
Rihaku said:
Fighting through the exhaustion, Hunger took up his own stance, blade raised and poised to cut. The world contracted, static fuzzing in at the edges of his vision. He'd gone too far again, spent too much of his own essence pursuing an impossible feat. Still he dredged up what pitiful slivers remained, enough perhaps for one concerted attack.
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Man, we are both running on fumes, and for us, our soul is quite literally spent. Whatever comes next would be our final attack.

Rihaku said:
He would let the man kill his flesh body, and hope that the surprise of his ghost form's emergence outweighed its now-lacking strength and speed. It was perhaps a vain hope. For the entirety of this battle Hunger had not landed a single physical blow upon this opponent.
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Even mid-conversation with the guy, he's still thinking about how to defeat him; this is Age and Treachery right here. Of course, we've seen nothing yet.

Rihaku said:
"I understand," Hunger said, steadying his blade. "Cut through, even if it cannot be cut. It must be quite the cause."

The swordsman frowned, eyes sharp. "You..."

Sensing an opening, a moment of weakness, Hunger still did not strike. He allowed his opponent to gather his thoughts.
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So, this is the moment Hunger sensed his opportunity. Never interrupt your opponent when he's making a mistake and all. Fate itself was in our favor here, seriously.

Rihaku said:
"Hmph," Vanreir shook his head. "What are the chances... my father once said something very similar. I'm not one to believe in fate, but I'm glad you were my final opponent. A worthy enemy can be rarer than even a true friend."

"Well said," Hunger replied, idly scanning the battlefield. He raised his hand, setting his opponent's heart to beating, restoring some volume of Vanreir's blood. "Shall we decide properly which of our swords is the greater?"
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"I'm glad you were my final opponent"; you must be more careful with what you say, Vanreir my boy! It just might become true. I wonder if he still thought of us as a worthy enemy; when it was all said and done. We did lead him on something fierce.

And I see Hunger scanning the battlefield; that moment was likely when his plan was made. All that in barely a second; that's quite the experience!

So he starts with the set-up.
Rihaku said:
"If you wish," Vanreir said, with the air of a man granting a final request. Hunger circled around to a particular point on the battlefield, matching the angle of his initial entry, where the sun fell in neither swordsman's eyes. Slowly he raised his blade aloft, jewel on his finger grim and subdued. The pallor of mortality was like a shadow across the battlefield. Each man knew that this moment could be his last.
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Wow, what a way to disguise the reason for his chosen location, all in the guise of fairness.
Rihaku said:
Vanreir walked to match him, taking up the stance of his signature thrust. Now within melee range, tip of his blade aimed squarely at Hunger's brain pan, the crystal-steel edge caught and splintered the sun's rays, a daytime thunderbolt.
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What a weird Crystal-sword; it seemed to have no special properties whatsoever, unless it was indestructible or something. Still, the imagery was cool!
Rihaku said:
Enough of sword-projections. An opponent such as this deserved the physical blade.
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It seems that despite his trickery, Hunger still legitimately respected Vanreir. Or does he have such discipline he obscures the plan even in his head?
Rihaku said:
On the same count they inhaled. An unspoken understanding passed between them. Time compressed, congealed, folded over on itself like molten amber. On came the thrust, that viperous lash of silver like lightning made steel. Hunger's blade descended, but slowly, far too slowly to land any serious blow. By the time Amarlt's thrust loomed before him, his hand had managed only to interpose itself between the enemy's sword and his own head.
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A classic Mexican standoff situation, only with swords instead of guns. And it seems Vanreir wins on the draw, ending poor Hunger...
Rihaku said:
There was a clang of steel against silver, a clarion note of pure deflection. The Forebear's Blade fell from nerveless fingers.
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...But wait, what is this!?
Rihaku said:
Like an inverse kingfisher Amarlt was pointed skywards, his blade thrusting forwards and up, the all-piercing force of his strike no match for the indestructible Ring in its path, which had been bound to Hunger's finger by the Accursed himself. Hunger pressed downwards with his right foot, titanic strength collapsing the weakened ground around the divot that his very first blade-projection had created.
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Gotta say, I think I speak for the thread when I feel pretty stupid for not realizing we could parry his thrusts with the indestructible Ring. Quite a collective brain fart.

And Hunger reveals even the location of the duel was strategically chosen! All in the service of his plan; what a guile hero.
Rihaku said:
Falling rapidly, the bones of his hand a shattered ruin, the Foebear's Blade was level now with his mouth. Snatching it in his teeth, he fired a single blade-projection, one last absolute exertion. Committed still to his thrust, Vanreir could not change his trajectory. Cleanly bisected, chest from sternum, still his arms and eyes and blade could only face up, up, up: turned forever heavenward, as if to pierce through the sky itself.
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Every part of our panoply contributed to our victory here; the Ring to parry Vanreir, Fall of Night so we could fall fast enough to catch the Blade, and a sword projection for the final blow. All from a single moment where Vanreir exposed his critical weakness, all to give a single blow that tells. This was awesome;, definitely my favorite update this quest and one of my favorites in all of Rihaku's writing.

Rihaku said:
But there was always a sky above the sky. One could pierce for all eternity without finding its limit.

Age and treachery had prevailed again, though victory tasted like ashes in his mouth. Slowly he examined the Ring, its jewel flaring crimson, the pulse of its inhalation drawing a thundering sea of power.
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Man, would have Vanreir just have stood there with his arm outstretched until his thrust hit something? Because "can't be pointed at the sky" is kind of a goofy weakness. Or was it just because it was deflected, and so the force had nowhere to go? Man, conceptual attacks like this are difficult to think about.

I wonder why Hunger doesn't relish his victory here? Was it just because Vanreir was a worthy opponent? Does he actually dislike such tactics? Or is he just referring to his wounds here? Seems ambiguous to me, and maybe that is the point.
Rihaku said:
Jewel and band and finger all were whole and untouched. Of Vanreir Amarlt's final attack, no evidence remained, not even so much as a scratch.
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How feeble is the effort of man, compared to the uncaring forces of the cosmos. Well; I guess the Accursed isn't exactly uncaring. This is the second time one of his gifts explicitly saves us, in fact. Another debt to repay, even if it seems small compared to the gift of Progression.

That nothing remained of Vanreir swan-song is kind of tragic? Well, I can't say he leaves nothing behind; we might be about to meet his friends and family, even. That will be a "fun" meeting, huh?
 
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