The Path Unending (A Cultivation Quest)

DangerKitty said:

[X] The metal door that is hot to the touch.

Ring is pretty neat. Nice to have storage. Though i'm dubious on the usefulness of the estate itself, at least while we are in the sect itself. we already have a home and can place our most valuable items in the ring. maybe while we are out on the road? could be nice to sleep in comfort while traveling. since you could sleep and it would recharge while ur awake. basically a portable campsite with only one entrance (for non space artists) so its even easy to gaurd if needed.

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zang269 said:

You are small, and unformed, and the only thing in your mind is hunger.

It consumes you, entirely and without mercy. There is nothing inside of you, no shape to your soul, except the relentless desire to hunt and consume your prey. This is the entirety of your existence, the undeniable reality imposed on you by your nature.

Still, the undeniable is not the unavoidable, and you hold yourself apart from that reality to order your thoughts. For many this would be impossible, but if you were to lower yourself to being measured against others you would be a rank failure.

You briefly open your eyes, and again take in The Forge Eternal where you rest. Sound penetrates the haze of your mind, a clamorous pounding of metal against metal in a ceaseless pattern as you take in the familiar chaos. Tools are scattered everywhere, there is no smith at work, and wispy smoke drifts through the air. One of the workbenches is covered with scraps in the vague shape of armor, set out neatly and with a respect at odds with the rest of your environment. On closer inspection, that entire section is just a touch more respectable, as if something new is entering the forge.

Returning to your rest, you let sight of the Forge leave you, and begin divining the shape of the change at it's completion. It's a difficult task, nearly impossible even for one such as you, but by surrendering vision you have enough energy to do so.

Unfortunately, this dedication to improvement means the first sign that you have a guest is the rapid series of jabs to your forehead.

You are unprepared for this totally unprecedented and yet familiar disregard for your greatness, and for a moment all your thoughts unravel into pointless, undirected violence, your jaw bending into a snarl and your limbs spasming with hatred. You seize control of yourself and force purpose onto your body again, to open your eyes and gaze upon whatever dares to insult you so.

A woman with dark skin and braided hair loosely tied back is perhaps two inches away from your face, staring directly into your eyes.

"Subject responds to disruptive stimuli with a brief period of uncontrolled activity, followed by a highly unusual level of focus," the woman mumbles to herself, unflinching even as a growl escapes you, "information gathering capabilities seem to be roughly twice that of a normal Soldier's Vestige."

You burn with fury at the insult that you can be compared to such a lesser creature as the animals within another Artist. You are too weak to move, too weak to prove yourself, but you have enough strength to speak."

"A Kong," you grind out, as the intruder blurs back to a more reasonable distance, "will be at least three times the craftsman any other weakling Artist is." Speaking is foreign to you, and each word is forced out like pulling a rusted bolt free of it's home. Still, the woman before you remains quiet, even if an unseemly joy is boiling up in her as she stares intently. "I will be the masterpiece Kong Zhi spends his entire life making, and the purpose of his death." You gather yourself, one more time, to make your final pronouncement.

"Refer to me as if I am anything less than the greatest art of my kind and I will devour you whole," you hiss out, before allowing your declaration time to sink in.

Your head is immediately pinned back as delighted, shrieking laughter rings throughout the forge.

"This is such an incredible find!" the demon babbles pointlessly as you do your utmost to draw blood. "The subject displays a staggering amount of arrogance, and a superiority complex unrivaled by any surviving member of the Delving Heart! Comprehension of foreign entities and the difference between an artist and vestige seems to have developed for the sole purpose of insulting a similar beings origin!"

You're trying your damndest to bite her fingers off. You can't get your mouth near them and your efforts are fruitless.

"The subject's relationship with its origin seems to mirror the origins relationship to charms, and it's maintaining thought by dividing it's higher thought pattern into a separate instance of existence. Similarities between the ability and the origin's technique will need to be studied more closely at a later date."

Suddenly, there is nothing holding your head back, and your head falls forward trying to snap at the intruder in The Forge Eternal. You growl at the smiling woman, before she falls apart with a snap of her fingers.

You hate Artists so much.

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bookofportals said:

Also... what in the blazing hells did we find?

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