Shard
One and Many
- Location
- Malaysia
Because the Accursed directly referenced having fought the Forebear before.
A Simple Transaction I
- Thread starter Rihaku
- Start date
- Original
LordOfMurder
Bhaal
- Location
- Australia
Just because his did it before doesn't mean he has to do it again. As far as I know we don't even know why he fought the accursed in the first place.
Um, yes? It's not the fact they're powerful that I'm talking about. It's the specific incentives and consequences of Rank + Ruin vs the Praxis. The fact both are tyrannical swordsmen is, indeed, exactly why I referred directly to swords and tyrants in my response.
Both are capable of entering a belligerent state where they get what they want or else, but only one of them is compelled to exist permanently in that state by the ingrained selection pressure of the Procession of Worlds. The other only temporarily exhibits such qualities, and has shown a marked interest in mitigating them.
Huh? I don't remember that theory at all. Did I just memory hole the whole thing?
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Strange9
hdellaverson@gmail.com
- Location
- Los Angeles, CA
Ah, the coward's harem ending.
(I kid, but not a fan, personally)
HoratioVonBecker
Imperfectly Aligned
By murdering her counterpart?!
[X] Freedom
HoratioVonBecker
Imperfectly Aligned
Shard
One and Many
- Location
- Malaysia
Hunger might well be able or even more capable of taking down the Hidden Ones in the Freedom ending. He either wasn't capable or willing to do it the first time around as the Forebear even though they imposed the Procession of Worlds on him. In the Vengeance Ending he still has to deal with Apo-chan, even if he has Progression still. In the Freedom Ending, though, the lack of having to deal with Apo-Chan may well improve his true odds of defeating the Hidden Ones, even if it takes 'longer'.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
>be Hunger
>sacrifice wife and unborn child to destroy Tyrant
>be miserable crippled survivor agitating uselessly for Freedom
>train fight train fight train fight train
>fight weird ultra-powerful doppleganger of wife
>be offered return of wife in exchange for embracing Freedom
>commit irreversibly to being Tyrant, cast aside hope of wife and unborn child being restored.
Yeah, I'm not feeling it.
>sacrifice wife and unborn child to destroy Tyrant
>be miserable crippled survivor agitating uselessly for Freedom
>train fight train fight train fight train
>fight weird ultra-powerful doppleganger of wife
>be offered return of wife in exchange for embracing Freedom
>commit irreversibly to being Tyrant, cast aside hope of wife and unborn child being restored.
Yeah, I'm not feeling it.
Maybe try having greentext that actually follows what happened in the quest instead of throwing together random shit that makes no sense my guy
Hunger fought impossible battle to bring Hidden Ones to justice, that is the initial premise of this quest, as we choose Vengeance to begin with. Now that their defeat is finally within the realm of possibility we want to give up because, uh, just because I guess.
I know that SV is cowardly as they tend to be, but you guys are trying to fold to Maiden, Apo and Hidden Ones all at the same time. That takes some talent.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
When Hunger swore relentless vengeance, it was after he had lost everyone he loved, struck down his hated enemy, and failed to pursue everything he valued.
When you're offered everything you love back, and the alternative is to become something very similar to your hated enemy and give up on everything you valued, this may perhaps be a reason to consider relenting the vengeance quest.
The Accursed's advice to us if we took Vengeance at the beginning was "Take care that you do not become that which you despise." I suspect he knew what he was talking about.
When you're offered everything you love back, and the alternative is to become something very similar to your hated enemy and give up on everything you valued, this may perhaps be a reason to consider relenting the vengeance quest.
The Accursed's advice to us if we took Vengeance at the beginning was "Take care that you do not become that which you despise." I suspect he knew what he was talking about.
Yo what kind of batman logic is this. No you won't become like them if you shot them, the Vengeance explicitly is the option where we go for Victorious World. It is an opportunity to take Curse of Tyranny off the most powerful being in the existence. The price is to leave two dead people dead, and Hunger doing what he does best.
To pass on this opportunity is crime beyond comparison, death and tragedy on scale quite literally unimaginable. Is it too much to just do good?
To pass on this opportunity is crime beyond comparison, death and tragedy on scale quite literally unimaginable. Is it too much to just do good?
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Heh.
Right.
Yes. Yes, that must be it.
That's exactly it.
I want bad logic. Everything I say is lies and anti-reasoning. I hate doing good. I value nothing. I care about nothing. Obviously. I don't make sense. I never have. I never will. I'm a coward.
Such wisdom. There are no words for the clarity of insight, the truthfulness, with which my every pretense is laid bare.
I am seen through. Undone.
Clearly that explains everything.
[X] Freedom
Right.
Yes. Yes, that must be it.
That's exactly it.
I want bad logic. Everything I say is lies and anti-reasoning. I hate doing good. I value nothing. I care about nothing. Obviously. I don't make sense. I never have. I never will. I'm a coward.
Such wisdom. There are no words for the clarity of insight, the truthfulness, with which my every pretense is laid bare.
I am seen through. Undone.
Clearly that explains everything.
[X] Freedom
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Aabcehmu
Confusion as a Natural State of Being
- Location
- Chicago, IL
- Pronouns
- Any/All
Previously, on Harold Smith-Stacks and the Crossworld Arena...
Fanwork#6100 words
It ends up taking all the rest of the night and cut a little bit into the dawn, enough that I have to be just a little late for morning drills, but the Archive and I do manage to formulate a fast-acting injectable amnestic that's safe to mix into a single injection with my regenerative tincture. Actually synthesizing any of it, on the other hand, proves impossible with the ingredients I can conjure via Earth Elementalism or find within the castle grounds, at least outside of Merlin's personal store of reagents. Until I actually get the chance to analyze at least a single dose of the real deal, or at the very least all of the raw materials and the tools needed to process them, I won't be able to materialize any from the Archive. Maybe I can talk to Nimue about that, actually...Not before introducing her to Penjani, though.
Morning drills, though, are pretty exciting with the King around. He's not shy about his own training, and while he doesn't spar with anybody, he does tear through a mountain of training dummies in various states of technomagical animation. He didn't break a sweat, but he eats well at breakfast afterwards, so I think he did exert himself just a little, maybe just to really test the dummies. They should be capable of repairing themselves, but with how the King thrashed them, I should double check later today. It'll be a good opportunity to have Penjani and Nimue meet, I think. Having something to do and let them show their shared interests should help them acclimate to each other.
'WHY DIDN'T YOU STITCH BACK TO GATHER MORE DATA? WE COULD HAVE MADE SIGNIFICANT PROGRESS ON REPLICATING EXCALIBUR'S FEATURES FROM REWATCHING THAT DISPLAY.'
'I've got some delicate conversations to deal with today. I need to talk with the ambassadorial aide, and with my sect handler, and make my council dead-drop. I want to have all the stitches in case I need to undo a mistake. Plus, there's always the chance of another hunter turning up unexpectedly.'
The Archive emanates irritation but is unable to actually rebut my points. It's definitely getting more irascible with the lack of real fights. Fortunately, my debrief with the aide is up next on my schedule, and I can work out the details of joining the King on his Quest at the same time.
It only takes me a moment to track him down after breakfast, standing in our normal debriefing spot in the castle's central garden. Simultaneously, I begin speaking in three voices. With my true voice, contained within the shell of my enhanced knight-armor, I begin incanting the phonemes of Stitch in Time. With an ordinary synthesized voice, I initiate conversation with the ambassador's aide. "<Counselor Khadani. I wanted to talk with you about my potential participation in King Arthur's upcoming Quest into the contested northern territory.>" Finally, with a phaser beam carefully angled into the aide's ear, I relay my secret debriefing. "<There hasn't been much to report, sir. I've delivered the schematics I've been able to derive for the devices and spells that I've observed so far to the embassy database through secure channels. Everything I know about troop movements and future military plans is already public knowledge.>"
"<Guardsman Smith-Stacks. Yes, I'd heard about that after mingling with the local nobility. I've spoken with Ambassador Dzetangi and he's granted you permittance for this venture.>" The aide places a hand on my shoulder. I can feel a vibro-nanite diaphragm form on the palm of his hand and begin to vibrate, and he gives me a smile that I can only just tell is a great deal of frustration. "<On the condition that you are on your very best behavior, and will return as soon as is feasible given the situation on the ground.>" At the same time, my armor translates the code silently humming into my shoulder, but I've memorized it well enough that I'm interpreting it just as quickly. "<Your duty is to Wakanda, to Princess Penjani, to Ambassador Dzetangi, and to myself, not to this king-of-an-island. This quest is acceptable to us, but we expect more than basic schematics of ill-kept secrets when you return. Make sure that you reap some proper rewards, for Wakanda as well as yourself.>"
"<Yes, sir. Of course, sir.>" I reply automatically, resisting the urge to stitch back. There's nothing to be gained by retrying this, I barely said anything in the first place. "<Thank you, and thank the Ambassador. Is there anything else I should know?>"
The aide removes his hand from my shoulder, the vibro-nanites having already retreated back inside his sleeve. He turns and cups a flower blossom in his hand briefly. "<No, that will be all for now guardsman. Have a good day.>"
"<You as well, sir.>" Then I depart, maybe a little too quickly, but honestly as brief as it was, that exchange was really stressful and I need to process it a bit before I move on to the next task on today's to-do list. Penjani's probably not done with her morning routine yet, it's still pretty early. The King's going on a quick hunt in the afternoon, I'll probably confirm my attendance on the Quest with him then, but he's going to be busy with...Merlin. The Wizard will almost certainly be bothering the King all day today, which means Nimue might actually be free right about now.
It's normally considered rude to move through the walls of the castle. They're ostensibly warded against basic Earth Elemental permeation, but the work-arounds I figured out are not technically public knowledge, and Nimue and I both play a little fast and loose with those sorts of rules when it comes to pranking each other. Nimue still hasn't updated the wards on her workshop, so if I glide down through the ceiling right here, I should be able to get the drop on her...
"Wow, you really thought I hadn't caught that yet?" I resist the urge to stitch back as, rather than Nimue's unsuspecting workshop, I've slid into what I now realize is an illusory copy. A well-constructed one, too, given it even fooled my sonar until just now as it starts to dissolve. The true workshop beneath the glamor is not very different, but importantly, there is an over-engineered magic circle I am not trapped inside of. I think I could break out of this, if I went all out, but not without completely trashing the workshop, setting off all sorts of alarms, and most importantly, proving to Nimue that she had forced me to rely on brute strength or time-travel.
I still need to figure out a clever way to get out, though. I test the barrier with Step Up, but no luck. It was a long shot, my teleportation abilities are well known, but it would have been foolish to not check. I reach out with a hand, pressing it against the invisible wall of force emanating from the magic circle. I can tell from my Earth-sense that the ceiling above me is no longer permeable, even with my advanced technique. No radio contact, either. Maybe something sonic? "Well, you know I had to double check. I doubt you would have appreciated it if I'd let such a gaping hole in your defenses go unremarked upon!" My speech is interwoven with an infrasonic signal, just strong enough to reach the sensors back at my workstation in my quarters, which should dispatch a vibro-nanite cluster that'll hopefully get here in a minute or two. I could feel some rumbling from her working in here all the way from the floor above, so her noise suppression wards shouldn't block the signal.
Nimue gives me a scrutinizing look. "Are you trying to affect me with your voice, Stax? Seriously? That was already old hat back in the sixth century. I could defend against this in my sleep." She ponders that for a moment. "I literally have defended against it in my sleep, actually." She puts on a mock expression of disappointment. "I expect better from a colleague of your stature!"
I dramatically slump with equally mocking dejection against the wall of the magic circle. "Oh, how will my reputation ever recover! Bested by the second most powerful mage in all of Albion! My shame will live immortal in the minds of every Briton for all of time. Oh mighty Nimue, what can I do--"
She lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, that's enough. I accept your surrender, though I'm not letting you out until I've thought of an appropriately embarrassing punishment to inflict upon you for being stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trap."
She steps around my little column of confinement, and I stand up from my slouch to watch her navigate the workshop. "So, what are you working on? I heard some rumbling earlier, I assume you've got something big planned."
She looks over her shoulder at me with a smirk before raising her up revelatorily, another illusion falling away to uncover...honestly even looking at it, it's hard to parse what exactly it is. Parts of it fold in and out of view in a perspective-defying, vertigo-inducing way. If I unfocus my eyes and try to just look at its outline, it sort of gives me the impression of a fountain, or maybe a flower that's blooming. "I heard from Merlin yesterday that Arthur's planning to attack the Corpse-Queen's hold up in Monkchester, and I know that's going to be a pretty hard target, as is ever Arthur's wont to choose, so I thought I'd see if I could repurpose some things I made in the olden days, along with a project I was already working on for...other reasons, and make something to help crack this nut's shell."
I refocus on the object with genuine fascination, the Archive's attention redoubling as it becomes a new potential target for analysis. "Oh? What exactly does it do?" I could sort of feel the gist of it, something esoteric, something that moved and rearranged things, extremely precise and rapid movement, probably somewhat autonomous.
"At the moment? Not much, other than pack down real tight." She makes a downward gesture with her hand and the object begins to fold in on itself, collapsing into its shadow on the workshop floor, shrinking from a pillar of shifting silver to a simple metal box, about the size of a briefcase. She lifts her hand back up, and the machine reemerges. "All the main components aren't properly hooked up yet, and a couple still aren't properly finished in themselves yet, but once I have that all sorted out, it'll help counteract the Corpse-Queen's witchcraft."
I nod along, despite the Archive's waning interest. "I look forward to seeing it in action, then."
"Oh, you're joining Arthur on this one? Congratulations! Your first proper Quest is always special."
I smile with just a touch of real pride. "Yeah! That was actually part of why I was coming by this morning."
"Part of why? What were your other reasons?"
"Well, I needed to make sure you hadn't actually left your workshop unguarded," she chuckles in response, "And, I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in checking up on the training dummies with me, maybe a bit before lunch? The King absolutely demolished them and I wanted to make sure they'll all recover...and maybe do a bit of after-action analysis to see if we can make them less of a total cake-walk."
Nimue considers it, but only for a second before nodding. "Sure. Normally I wouldn't bother, but if we're looking to spice things up the next time someone busts them out, I might actually have some fun."
"Cool! Would it be alright if I brought another friend along as well? Princess Penjani is a brilliant engineer, and has been getting into magitech. She's not so much a prankster as us, but I still think you and her would get along great." As I say this, my armor informs me that the nanite cluster has entered the room and is proceeding to overlay itself across the inscription of the magic circle. It took me a while, when I first came to Colchester, to figure out how adjust the resonant characteristics of the vibro-nanites to let them pass through magical wards undetected, but now that I have the basics down it's mostly a matter of keeping them up to date with Nimue's latest developments.
This time she takes a long moment, her gaze becoming cold and calculating, but eventually she nods again. "Alright, but if she's a jerk like the diplomat guy then I'll make you regret it later."
"Right, right. Thank you for giving her a chance. I'll come by and grab you once I know she's free, probably in a couple hours, if that's alright?"
"Sounds good, though we'll see whether you're free in a couple hours. It might take me longer than that to think of your penance for prank-failure." She gives me an exaggeratedly smug grin.
"Nice. See you later!" I say, ignoring the latter part of what she says. I command the nanites to disrupt the magic circle, which they promptly do, inaudibly and invisibly. Then I walk out of the magic circle as if it weren't there, and quickly out of her workshop before she can pull a new trick out of her bag. The way her expression rapidly shifts as I flee, first from devilish glee to shock, then to crest-fall, then curiosity, and finally good cheer warms my heart.
Next on my morning schedule is contacting Elder Lín, my handler back at the Clear Window. Like with Counselor Khadani this involves a lot of sensitive information, but Elder Lín isn't here and doesn't have access to advanced secure communication channels like the Wakandan Embassy does. Thus, I spend most of the next two hours sealed up in my quarters, with all of my security measures turned up to full strength, recounting via high-speed qi-speech all of the (broadly unimportant) intelligence I'd gathered and all of the detailed schematics I'd developed since last month's report to her.
Honestly, qi-speech is one of the things I'm most looking forward to teaching Penjani, if this marriage plan doesn't fall through. It's just so much more efficient than conventional speech, even compared to talking with the other royal guards via ultrasonic code-talk. The kind of work we could get gone together if we could be as in-sync as I was with my teammates back at the sect...
I also mention to her that I'm courting one of the Wakandan royals, though I make it clear that nothing is official at this point and that things have remained entirely chaste. My jade tablet emanates an almost motherly pride and maybe a hint of excitement as Elder Lín expresses her approval of my actions. After that it's just a bit of news about how things are going back in the East, which mostly amounted to the usual inter- and intra-sect politics, though an Imperial Tournament would be happening later this year in celebration of the anniversary of the Grafting (as the splicing event is called back in Shénzhōu) which everyone was gearing up for. Apparently, Zhōu Wōtāo, the leader of the Forging and Quenching Palace and disciple of the Great Dragon Xuānyuán, was planning to make some kind of big announcement during it.
With that, the report is complete, Elder Lín heads off to get started preparing for the nightly rituals and I unspool most of my security measures and head off in search of Penjani. Curiously, she isn't in her quarters, in any of the gardens, in the great hall, or any of her usual haunts. Instead, after getting worried and sending out a few stronger sonar scan-pulses, I manage to find her in the kitchens, seemingly observing the cooks working on lunch preparations. I probably startle a few servants with how quickly I fly out of a window and down to the kitchen when I first locate her. I am a bit freaked out, but I manage to get a grip and unrustle my jimmies before I silently swoop in through one of the kitchen's windows. Inside, standing off from the rest of the cooks, the head chef Digraut is showing Penjani and Yande, one of her handmaids, a batch of kouign-amann he's just pulled out of the oven and set on a couple of cooling racks. I float down to the floor, retracting my tlanuwa wings to avoid getting in the way of the busy cooks, and the princess turns and gives me a bashful smile as I approach. "Guardsman Smith-Stacks! Or should I say Sir Harold, as in the local style?"
Her English is actually less accented than mine, at least in a British context, since I've so far retained my midwestern American accent. Benefits of keeping in touch with my friends back home, I guess. "Whatever pleases you, my princess." I genuflect momentarily before continuing, "You are quite the elusive woman this morning. May I ask what brings you to the kitchens?"
Yande giggles as Penjani pins her with a stare before answering. "I first tasted these pastries," she throws an acquisitive glance towards the cooling kouign-amann, "at the feast last night, and was stunned by their excellence. I had expected they used some kind of unique, difficult to acquire ingredients, maybe even some sort of magic. But no! It's a handful of simple techniques," she gives a nod to Digraut, "masterfully applied of course, and high quality but entirely mundane ingredients, albeit in an utterly absurd ratio." She picks up one of the still-hot pastries and displays it dramatically. "This has nearly as much butter in it as it does flour! And an equal amount of sugar! And yet, it is neither unbearably greasy nor cloyingly sweet! I am almost embarrassed that I hadn't thought of it on my own, though admittedly food science has never been my area of focus..."
"Well, it's not my specialty either, but if my princess would like, we could do some analysis on the recipe, and maybe some others if Digraut is willing to share, and see if we can puzzle out something delicious of our own design?"
Penjani and I share a thoughtful look, before my eyes shift to Digraut giving us a mirthful and knowing nod and Penjani's to Yande, whose face bears an odd expression somewhere between fascination and disgust, then sliding down to the kouign-amann. "An excellent idea, Sir Harold. Perhaps Sir Digraut could share those recipes now, while we wait for these to cool, and then we can retire to my quarters with them and get to work on that?"
I give the head chef (and technically Knight of the Round, though he hasn't been on a Quest since old days, and never got his name in any of the stories) a nod, and he launches into the recipes for some of Camelot's favorite dishes, both new and old. Yande's expression is transformed, just for an instant, into one of shock and scandal, presumably at such a casual proposal of 'retiring to her quarters' with a man, and a royal guard at that, but she regains control of herself quickly. She's going to be gossiping about this with the other handmaids no doubt, but given Penjani's forwardness I assume that she's gotten a positive response from her mother, in which case it shouldn't be unmanageable.
After about ten minutes of her gaze drifting over the pastries and sniffing their delectable aroma, Penjani's patience has run out. "Thank you, Sir Digraut, but this waiting is simply unbearable. I think Sir Harold and I have heard enough, for now. If we need more information, we'll be sure to find you again. Miss Yande, you may return to the work I took you from, but make sure that these recipes make their way back to the palace chefs' ears." Yande nods with a growing smile before quickly walking away. Finally, she turns back to me and gestures to the kouign-amann. "Sir Harold, take these with us please."
Naturally I comply, and then we're on our way back to her quarters before Digraut can voice any complaints. Penjani periodically snatches a kouign-amann from the racks as we walk. She's nearly finished her third as I seal the door behind us and she begins the process of reactivating some security measures and spoofing others. "<So, how did your mother respond, if you've gotten word back yet?>" I ask, switching to Wakandan automatically, once she gives the all-clear.
"<I have,>" she replies as she grabs a fourth pastry, "<and she was surprisingly positive! She'd apparently already found out about the marriage clause from one of the main branch matrons. They were discussing whether they could arrange something between Prince T'Shamba and a girl from one of the ascendant factions, something about a house of blacksmiths? She says that they seemed stumped, since the factions' political climate is too insular.>"
Somehow, perhaps because she's no longer distracted by walking, she's already nearly half way done with her current kouign-amann. It's honestly kind of impressive how quickly she's eating them without making any mess or muffling her speech.
"<She was rather happy to hear that I'd made in-roads into a similar group, I hardly had to do any convincing to get her on board. I just mentioned that you were the man I had in mind, and that pretty much decided it for her. In her words, it 'presents a very convenient simplification to Guardsman Smith-Stacks's situation', and after we worked out some of the details, she went off to talk with father about it. I expect to hear back from him tonight, and probably to have official word on the proposal from the King by early next week. We agree that, unless there's some completely unforeseen complication, that he's almost certain to approve of it. Uncle has always been something of a progressive, even if the Splicing put him on the defensive.>" She gives me a prideful smile and pops the last of her current pastry into her mouth, immediately plucking another from the racks. "<Now then, how about we get started on this culinary journey?>"
I grab a kouign-amann for myself at this point as I begin to realize that the princess might actually eat all two dozen of them herself if I don't, before nodding to her. "<First though, I had another question for you. I have a friend here in Colchester, Nimue. She's an apprentice of Merlin, she's a genius, she's a techie like us, and I think the two of you would get along great. I'm planning on doing a postmortem analysis on the training dummies with her later today, since King Arthur really let them have it this morning, and I thought I'd ask if you'd be interested in joining in?>"
She considers it for a long moment, long enough to worry me a little, but eventually she gives me a nod. "<I trust your judgement Stax. When were you thinking of doing this postmortem?>"
I take a bite of my pastry, which is just as delicious as the last time I had one of Digraut's kouign-amann, and am renewed in my surprise that Penjani is tearing through them as quickly as she is. It's true that they're not super heavy on the palate or overly sweet, but they are incredibly rich, to the point where I feel pretty much satisfied with mine after one bite. As I savor that bite, I send a silent message off to Nimue to tell her that Penjani is indeed interested, but that I've become somewhat entangled in another activity so my two hour estimate is probably going to be wrong, and that I'll message her again once I'm done. "<It depends on how long this 'culinary journey' takes us. I was thinking sometime before I went off with King Arthur and some of the other Knights on a hunt this afternoon, but we don't need to rush. If there isn't time this morning we can get to it this evening instead, or even sometime tomorrow.>"
I get Nimue's acknowledgement back as Penjani nods. "<Right then. Let's start with a battery of structural resonance tests and phaser diffraction scans, just to get an idea of what these> kouign-amann <are really like at the nano scale...>"
The pastry analysis ends up all through the morning, and far enough into the afternoon that I need to rush to catch with the other Knights before they set out on the hunt. It turns out that the way that the sugar and butter are layered and folded into the kouign-amann (and lots of other pastries, albeit to a lesser degree) has some parallels to atomic vibro-metallurgy, which lead us down a bit of a rabbit hole of trying to figure out just how far we could push it in that direction. The Archive even started chiming in too, diffidently at first when we started considering whether this could be an innovation in delivering medicine, then with interest when we considered whether this plausibly could be incorporated into the recently developed enhancement program that the royals and royal guard have been subject to.
'ALRIGHT, I CAN ACCEPT THERE IS SOME VALUE TO THIS RELATIONSHIP. BUT THE OTHERS ARE ABOUT TO DEPART ON THE HUNT! GO!'
We're well on the way to something, maybe even something big, but the Archive has a point. "<I need to go join the other Knights and the King on the hunt. I'll check in as soon as we're back.>"
"<Naturally, Stax.>" She pulls me into a hug, then a kiss, before sliding my helmet back on for me. "<I'll look forward to seeing your quarries in the great hall tonight, and to meeting this Nimue you've mentioned!>"
Then I'm off, flying only slightly slower than I did this morning, shooting across the courtyard outside Penjani's window, sending another message to Nimue to apologize for the delay. I glide down into my place among the gathered throng of Knights, alongside my fellow neophytes, though Sir Seth isn't with us. I don't catch any of the King's pre-hunt speech, and then Merlin comes around with his coterie of druids-in-training, leads us to the standing stones a little way outside the city limits (new ones, that he apparently raised not long after the splicing), and starts performing some kind of ritual, which culminates with several cattle being slaughtered on the plinth.
When the sky goes dark and a pillar of clouds descends to the plinth before opening into a luminous portal with a crack of thunder, I start to regret missing the King's speech and having no idea what the hell is actually going on. Then the King leads us through the portal, and as I cross the threshold, I can feel the difference. The air itself is thick with magic, so full of ethereal power that I can practically feel it washing against my armor, and I can see most of the other Knights react, only the King's inner circle and a few of the other old-timers seeming really prepared for the experience. "Welcome, my loyal Knights, to the Puckwood!" the King exclaims, "The gate of mist will close at sunset, but until then, feel free to explore! I will be pursuing some game of personal interest, which I'm sure you will see later. I will not be making a show of my hunt, so unless you believe yourself able to keep my pace, I encourage you to follow your own paths!" He punctuates that with a sweep of his brilliant blade, cutting through the cloudy sky and revealing a necklace of blue and the Sun as its jewel, slowly but steadily sinking towards the horizon. "Good hunting!"
Then he disappears in a flash of light, and the Knights dissolve into small teams and individual hunters immediately, rushing through the trees to try and find suitably impressive prey. I hadn't made plans to team-up with anyone, and don't really have time to talk now, so I'm on my own. I'm not super attached to earning a lot of glory here, I'll have plenty of opportunity for that on the Quest, but as I rise into the sky and cast out my suit's numerous probes and scanners to build a map of this place, I realize that this might be an ideal time to drink some good, powerful blood. Not from the other Knights, obviously, but from some variety of sylvan fey-creature.
Experimentally, I slide my faceplate open and take a deep, unfiltered breath of the forest air, and can't suppress the shiver that runs through me as I process all the countless scents and auras permeating it. Even without my suit's help, my vampire-senses can tell there's powerful blood all around, ripe for the picking. I close my faceplate again, committing the locations of potential targets to memory, and then fly, my suit's computer calculating an efficient flight-path to take to one after another.
By the time the sun is touching the horizon, I'm more than a bit blood-drunk. It's a really strange sensation, especially considering I've never been normal-drunk, but it's certainly not unpleasant. I can see why going into feeding frenzies might be an issue, especially for non-Masters. Fortunately I can seal up the vents on my armor, so I don't need to worry about getting a whiff of somebody and not being able to stop myself from biting them, and I can rely on my armor's motion stabilizer and voice modifier to cover up the other noticeable symptoms. Nothing to be done about the reduced focus aside from letting it digest, though. The evening slips by quickly, first the presenting of the catches, including the monstrous, gilded and jeweled boar which the King brought. There's dancing and music, and I give Penjani a perhaps ill-considered whirl on the dance-floor. The game is dressed and slaughtered and cooked and eaten alongside more delicious fare from the castle kitchens. I only manage to swallow the bare minimum to meet decorum, still feeling uncomfortably full of blood. There is more dancing and music, and as my drunkenness begins to abate I dance with Penjani again, this time a bit more coherently. There's more to the feast after that, but it's acceptable for a newer Knight like me to retire for the evening at this point, and I do. Penjani is understanding of my plight, even worried for me, and I excuse myself by saying that I overexerted myself on the hunt and need some rest. My train of thought is still too slippery for me to really think straight, and I need some time to clear my head before I sneak off to make my dead drop at around 3 AM.
The Archive grumbles soundlessly in the back of my mind, but with its direct access to my brain-state, it can't argue that I'm in a poor state to make meaningful progress on any of our designs. Thus, I spent the next several hours meditating, circulating my qi, and observing my body and spirit as they broke down the blood I'd consumed, absorbed its constituent matter and magic, and then synthesized them into more of myself. My drunkenness didn't help, but it fades progressively and by the time 3 AM comes around I've seen enough to have the strong feeling that the process could be optimized through cultivation, or at least better controlled, though I have no idea how. I add a request for some info on that to my dead drop, and maybe I'll do some digging in the Clear Window's archive the next time I'm actually on the sect campus.
Regardless, tonight my excess feeding has earned me two new powers: the ability to hypnotize the feeble-minded and weak-willed, and the ability to project cutting streams of blood from my eyes, like the combination of a greater short-horned lizard and a waterjet. The former is very useful, though also more than a bit frustrating, since I can feel that the hypnotic trance I could create would also interfere with the formation of memories during it, more or less completely obviating the need for the amnestic formula that I and the Archive developed last night. The latter is...potentially useful? I need to experiment to see how it interacted with my enhancements and qi techniques before I can really decide on its relevance, though.
That settled, I fabricate my dead drop parcel (the Elder Council is rather fond of physical media for some reason) and fly out of my window and into the night's darkness. The dead drop location is a ways away, about as far out into the country as you can get on an island of Britain's size, but at my speed it's still only a little over a minute of flying. Like always, it's just some nondescript patch of dirt in the middle of a forest, nowhere near any footpaths, well-covered by trees. A good place to hide something, naturally. That, plus the fact that I'm still a little blood-drunk, is probably why I don't notice the shape in the darkness that proceeded to grapple me out of the air and drag me down below the treetops.
Fearing that the dead drop location has been compromised by a hunter, I spit out the syllables of Stitch in Time as quickly as I can, rewinding back. I attempt to probe out the position of my attacker, approaching the drop-off site from every angle and wielding all of my suit's sensors, but soon I've reached the limit of my spiritual stamina. I'll have to either take this fight head-on, or abandon the dead drop and suffer the consequences.
'STAX, THIS ISN'T A HUNTER, OR AT LEAST NOT ONE USING ANY OF THE TECHNIQUES OR EQUIPMENT ON RECORD. AS MUCH AS IT PAINS ME TO SAY THIS, IT MIGHT BE BETTER TO STAND DOWN.'
'It's worth a shot, I guess.' I reply, before bracing myself for the incoming impact of the grapple. Sure enough, I'm pulled down to the earth by the shadows once again, this time keeping Bolt from the Blue's utterance at the ready. However, after contorting me into a suitably pinned position, rather than staking or decapitating me, my captor attempts (and fails, incredibly, thanks to my fusion of Albionian and Wakandan engineering) to remove my helmet before deciding to just whisper into the portion of it over my ear.
"Your passivity has drawn the ire of the Council, yearling. You have grown satisfied in your safety, and failed to pay the Council its due respect. I am here to correct your mistake. You will be following my orders until the Council deems your loyalty proven. You will report to me on a weekly basis. Your work will not end with mere observation of the mortal's activity. You will be my tool for sapping the stubborn defenses of this pitiful island. Do you understand?" My captor, who my intuition now detects as another opponent in the Arena, gives me a painful squeeze to punctuate their question.
"Y-yes, I understand." My reply is synthesized, as my true voice continues to cycle through the initial words of Bolt from the Blue, just in case.
There's a long pause before they continue. "Acceptable. You will give me your report now." I release the folder, thick with pages of inconsequential information, into the grasp of the darkness where it disappears from my sight and sensors. "You will meet me at the next location in seven night's time."
Then, the darkness holding me disappears, and I'm alone in the woods. 'Fucking hell.'
'I DID MANAGE TO ANALYZE SOME OF THEIR TECHNIQUES, DESPITE THE SENSOR JAMMING. WE WILL BE BETTER PREPARED NEXT TIME.'
'Maybe so, but I'll need to figure out how to handle the new directive first. We won't be in any better a situation if I manage to thrash this guy but call down the Elders' wrath.'
The Archive gives its wordless acknowledgement, and I fly back to Colchester in rather poor spirits. Hopefully tomorrow can bring some better news.
Fanwork#6100 words
Harold Smith-Stacks and The Unexpected Rendezvous
It ends up taking all the rest of the night and cut a little bit into the dawn, enough that I have to be just a little late for morning drills, but the Archive and I do manage to formulate a fast-acting injectable amnestic that's safe to mix into a single injection with my regenerative tincture. Actually synthesizing any of it, on the other hand, proves impossible with the ingredients I can conjure via Earth Elementalism or find within the castle grounds, at least outside of Merlin's personal store of reagents. Until I actually get the chance to analyze at least a single dose of the real deal, or at the very least all of the raw materials and the tools needed to process them, I won't be able to materialize any from the Archive. Maybe I can talk to Nimue about that, actually...Not before introducing her to Penjani, though.Morning drills, though, are pretty exciting with the King around. He's not shy about his own training, and while he doesn't spar with anybody, he does tear through a mountain of training dummies in various states of technomagical animation. He didn't break a sweat, but he eats well at breakfast afterwards, so I think he did exert himself just a little, maybe just to really test the dummies. They should be capable of repairing themselves, but with how the King thrashed them, I should double check later today. It'll be a good opportunity to have Penjani and Nimue meet, I think. Having something to do and let them show their shared interests should help them acclimate to each other.
'WHY DIDN'T YOU STITCH BACK TO GATHER MORE DATA? WE COULD HAVE MADE SIGNIFICANT PROGRESS ON REPLICATING EXCALIBUR'S FEATURES FROM REWATCHING THAT DISPLAY.'
'I've got some delicate conversations to deal with today. I need to talk with the ambassadorial aide, and with my sect handler, and make my council dead-drop. I want to have all the stitches in case I need to undo a mistake. Plus, there's always the chance of another hunter turning up unexpectedly.'
The Archive emanates irritation but is unable to actually rebut my points. It's definitely getting more irascible with the lack of real fights. Fortunately, my debrief with the aide is up next on my schedule, and I can work out the details of joining the King on his Quest at the same time.
It only takes me a moment to track him down after breakfast, standing in our normal debriefing spot in the castle's central garden. Simultaneously, I begin speaking in three voices. With my true voice, contained within the shell of my enhanced knight-armor, I begin incanting the phonemes of Stitch in Time. With an ordinary synthesized voice, I initiate conversation with the ambassador's aide. "<Counselor Khadani. I wanted to talk with you about my potential participation in King Arthur's upcoming Quest into the contested northern territory.>" Finally, with a phaser beam carefully angled into the aide's ear, I relay my secret debriefing. "<There hasn't been much to report, sir. I've delivered the schematics I've been able to derive for the devices and spells that I've observed so far to the embassy database through secure channels. Everything I know about troop movements and future military plans is already public knowledge.>"
"<Guardsman Smith-Stacks. Yes, I'd heard about that after mingling with the local nobility. I've spoken with Ambassador Dzetangi and he's granted you permittance for this venture.>" The aide places a hand on my shoulder. I can feel a vibro-nanite diaphragm form on the palm of his hand and begin to vibrate, and he gives me a smile that I can only just tell is a great deal of frustration. "<On the condition that you are on your very best behavior, and will return as soon as is feasible given the situation on the ground.>" At the same time, my armor translates the code silently humming into my shoulder, but I've memorized it well enough that I'm interpreting it just as quickly. "<Your duty is to Wakanda, to Princess Penjani, to Ambassador Dzetangi, and to myself, not to this king-of-an-island. This quest is acceptable to us, but we expect more than basic schematics of ill-kept secrets when you return. Make sure that you reap some proper rewards, for Wakanda as well as yourself.>"
"<Yes, sir. Of course, sir.>" I reply automatically, resisting the urge to stitch back. There's nothing to be gained by retrying this, I barely said anything in the first place. "<Thank you, and thank the Ambassador. Is there anything else I should know?>"
The aide removes his hand from my shoulder, the vibro-nanites having already retreated back inside his sleeve. He turns and cups a flower blossom in his hand briefly. "<No, that will be all for now guardsman. Have a good day.>"
"<You as well, sir.>" Then I depart, maybe a little too quickly, but honestly as brief as it was, that exchange was really stressful and I need to process it a bit before I move on to the next task on today's to-do list. Penjani's probably not done with her morning routine yet, it's still pretty early. The King's going on a quick hunt in the afternoon, I'll probably confirm my attendance on the Quest with him then, but he's going to be busy with...Merlin. The Wizard will almost certainly be bothering the King all day today, which means Nimue might actually be free right about now.
⁂
It's normally considered rude to move through the walls of the castle. They're ostensibly warded against basic Earth Elemental permeation, but the work-arounds I figured out are not technically public knowledge, and Nimue and I both play a little fast and loose with those sorts of rules when it comes to pranking each other. Nimue still hasn't updated the wards on her workshop, so if I glide down through the ceiling right here, I should be able to get the drop on her...
"Wow, you really thought I hadn't caught that yet?" I resist the urge to stitch back as, rather than Nimue's unsuspecting workshop, I've slid into what I now realize is an illusory copy. A well-constructed one, too, given it even fooled my sonar until just now as it starts to dissolve. The true workshop beneath the glamor is not very different, but importantly, there is an over-engineered magic circle I am not trapped inside of. I think I could break out of this, if I went all out, but not without completely trashing the workshop, setting off all sorts of alarms, and most importantly, proving to Nimue that she had forced me to rely on brute strength or time-travel.
I still need to figure out a clever way to get out, though. I test the barrier with Step Up, but no luck. It was a long shot, my teleportation abilities are well known, but it would have been foolish to not check. I reach out with a hand, pressing it against the invisible wall of force emanating from the magic circle. I can tell from my Earth-sense that the ceiling above me is no longer permeable, even with my advanced technique. No radio contact, either. Maybe something sonic? "Well, you know I had to double check. I doubt you would have appreciated it if I'd let such a gaping hole in your defenses go unremarked upon!" My speech is interwoven with an infrasonic signal, just strong enough to reach the sensors back at my workstation in my quarters, which should dispatch a vibro-nanite cluster that'll hopefully get here in a minute or two. I could feel some rumbling from her working in here all the way from the floor above, so her noise suppression wards shouldn't block the signal.
Nimue gives me a scrutinizing look. "Are you trying to affect me with your voice, Stax? Seriously? That was already old hat back in the sixth century. I could defend against this in my sleep." She ponders that for a moment. "I literally have defended against it in my sleep, actually." She puts on a mock expression of disappointment. "I expect better from a colleague of your stature!"
I dramatically slump with equally mocking dejection against the wall of the magic circle. "Oh, how will my reputation ever recover! Bested by the second most powerful mage in all of Albion! My shame will live immortal in the minds of every Briton for all of time. Oh mighty Nimue, what can I do--"
She lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, that's enough. I accept your surrender, though I'm not letting you out until I've thought of an appropriately embarrassing punishment to inflict upon you for being stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trap."
She steps around my little column of confinement, and I stand up from my slouch to watch her navigate the workshop. "So, what are you working on? I heard some rumbling earlier, I assume you've got something big planned."
She looks over her shoulder at me with a smirk before raising her up revelatorily, another illusion falling away to uncover...honestly even looking at it, it's hard to parse what exactly it is. Parts of it fold in and out of view in a perspective-defying, vertigo-inducing way. If I unfocus my eyes and try to just look at its outline, it sort of gives me the impression of a fountain, or maybe a flower that's blooming. "I heard from Merlin yesterday that Arthur's planning to attack the Corpse-Queen's hold up in Monkchester, and I know that's going to be a pretty hard target, as is ever Arthur's wont to choose, so I thought I'd see if I could repurpose some things I made in the olden days, along with a project I was already working on for...other reasons, and make something to help crack this nut's shell."
I refocus on the object with genuine fascination, the Archive's attention redoubling as it becomes a new potential target for analysis. "Oh? What exactly does it do?" I could sort of feel the gist of it, something esoteric, something that moved and rearranged things, extremely precise and rapid movement, probably somewhat autonomous.
"At the moment? Not much, other than pack down real tight." She makes a downward gesture with her hand and the object begins to fold in on itself, collapsing into its shadow on the workshop floor, shrinking from a pillar of shifting silver to a simple metal box, about the size of a briefcase. She lifts her hand back up, and the machine reemerges. "All the main components aren't properly hooked up yet, and a couple still aren't properly finished in themselves yet, but once I have that all sorted out, it'll help counteract the Corpse-Queen's witchcraft."
I nod along, despite the Archive's waning interest. "I look forward to seeing it in action, then."
"Oh, you're joining Arthur on this one? Congratulations! Your first proper Quest is always special."
I smile with just a touch of real pride. "Yeah! That was actually part of why I was coming by this morning."
"Part of why? What were your other reasons?"
"Well, I needed to make sure you hadn't actually left your workshop unguarded," she chuckles in response, "And, I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in checking up on the training dummies with me, maybe a bit before lunch? The King absolutely demolished them and I wanted to make sure they'll all recover...and maybe do a bit of after-action analysis to see if we can make them less of a total cake-walk."
Nimue considers it, but only for a second before nodding. "Sure. Normally I wouldn't bother, but if we're looking to spice things up the next time someone busts them out, I might actually have some fun."
"Cool! Would it be alright if I brought another friend along as well? Princess Penjani is a brilliant engineer, and has been getting into magitech. She's not so much a prankster as us, but I still think you and her would get along great." As I say this, my armor informs me that the nanite cluster has entered the room and is proceeding to overlay itself across the inscription of the magic circle. It took me a while, when I first came to Colchester, to figure out how adjust the resonant characteristics of the vibro-nanites to let them pass through magical wards undetected, but now that I have the basics down it's mostly a matter of keeping them up to date with Nimue's latest developments.
This time she takes a long moment, her gaze becoming cold and calculating, but eventually she nods again. "Alright, but if she's a jerk like the diplomat guy then I'll make you regret it later."
"Right, right. Thank you for giving her a chance. I'll come by and grab you once I know she's free, probably in a couple hours, if that's alright?"
"Sounds good, though we'll see whether you're free in a couple hours. It might take me longer than that to think of your penance for prank-failure." She gives me an exaggeratedly smug grin.
"Nice. See you later!" I say, ignoring the latter part of what she says. I command the nanites to disrupt the magic circle, which they promptly do, inaudibly and invisibly. Then I walk out of the magic circle as if it weren't there, and quickly out of her workshop before she can pull a new trick out of her bag. The way her expression rapidly shifts as I flee, first from devilish glee to shock, then to crest-fall, then curiosity, and finally good cheer warms my heart.
⁂
Next on my morning schedule is contacting Elder Lín, my handler back at the Clear Window. Like with Counselor Khadani this involves a lot of sensitive information, but Elder Lín isn't here and doesn't have access to advanced secure communication channels like the Wakandan Embassy does. Thus, I spend most of the next two hours sealed up in my quarters, with all of my security measures turned up to full strength, recounting via high-speed qi-speech all of the (broadly unimportant) intelligence I'd gathered and all of the detailed schematics I'd developed since last month's report to her.
Honestly, qi-speech is one of the things I'm most looking forward to teaching Penjani, if this marriage plan doesn't fall through. It's just so much more efficient than conventional speech, even compared to talking with the other royal guards via ultrasonic code-talk. The kind of work we could get gone together if we could be as in-sync as I was with my teammates back at the sect...
I also mention to her that I'm courting one of the Wakandan royals, though I make it clear that nothing is official at this point and that things have remained entirely chaste. My jade tablet emanates an almost motherly pride and maybe a hint of excitement as Elder Lín expresses her approval of my actions. After that it's just a bit of news about how things are going back in the East, which mostly amounted to the usual inter- and intra-sect politics, though an Imperial Tournament would be happening later this year in celebration of the anniversary of the Grafting (as the splicing event is called back in Shénzhōu) which everyone was gearing up for. Apparently, Zhōu Wōtāo, the leader of the Forging and Quenching Palace and disciple of the Great Dragon Xuānyuán, was planning to make some kind of big announcement during it.
With that, the report is complete, Elder Lín heads off to get started preparing for the nightly rituals and I unspool most of my security measures and head off in search of Penjani. Curiously, she isn't in her quarters, in any of the gardens, in the great hall, or any of her usual haunts. Instead, after getting worried and sending out a few stronger sonar scan-pulses, I manage to find her in the kitchens, seemingly observing the cooks working on lunch preparations. I probably startle a few servants with how quickly I fly out of a window and down to the kitchen when I first locate her. I am a bit freaked out, but I manage to get a grip and unrustle my jimmies before I silently swoop in through one of the kitchen's windows. Inside, standing off from the rest of the cooks, the head chef Digraut is showing Penjani and Yande, one of her handmaids, a batch of kouign-amann he's just pulled out of the oven and set on a couple of cooling racks. I float down to the floor, retracting my tlanuwa wings to avoid getting in the way of the busy cooks, and the princess turns and gives me a bashful smile as I approach. "Guardsman Smith-Stacks! Or should I say Sir Harold, as in the local style?"
Her English is actually less accented than mine, at least in a British context, since I've so far retained my midwestern American accent. Benefits of keeping in touch with my friends back home, I guess. "Whatever pleases you, my princess." I genuflect momentarily before continuing, "You are quite the elusive woman this morning. May I ask what brings you to the kitchens?"
Yande giggles as Penjani pins her with a stare before answering. "I first tasted these pastries," she throws an acquisitive glance towards the cooling kouign-amann, "at the feast last night, and was stunned by their excellence. I had expected they used some kind of unique, difficult to acquire ingredients, maybe even some sort of magic. But no! It's a handful of simple techniques," she gives a nod to Digraut, "masterfully applied of course, and high quality but entirely mundane ingredients, albeit in an utterly absurd ratio." She picks up one of the still-hot pastries and displays it dramatically. "This has nearly as much butter in it as it does flour! And an equal amount of sugar! And yet, it is neither unbearably greasy nor cloyingly sweet! I am almost embarrassed that I hadn't thought of it on my own, though admittedly food science has never been my area of focus..."
"Well, it's not my specialty either, but if my princess would like, we could do some analysis on the recipe, and maybe some others if Digraut is willing to share, and see if we can puzzle out something delicious of our own design?"
Penjani and I share a thoughtful look, before my eyes shift to Digraut giving us a mirthful and knowing nod and Penjani's to Yande, whose face bears an odd expression somewhere between fascination and disgust, then sliding down to the kouign-amann. "An excellent idea, Sir Harold. Perhaps Sir Digraut could share those recipes now, while we wait for these to cool, and then we can retire to my quarters with them and get to work on that?"
I give the head chef (and technically Knight of the Round, though he hasn't been on a Quest since old days, and never got his name in any of the stories) a nod, and he launches into the recipes for some of Camelot's favorite dishes, both new and old. Yande's expression is transformed, just for an instant, into one of shock and scandal, presumably at such a casual proposal of 'retiring to her quarters' with a man, and a royal guard at that, but she regains control of herself quickly. She's going to be gossiping about this with the other handmaids no doubt, but given Penjani's forwardness I assume that she's gotten a positive response from her mother, in which case it shouldn't be unmanageable.
After about ten minutes of her gaze drifting over the pastries and sniffing their delectable aroma, Penjani's patience has run out. "Thank you, Sir Digraut, but this waiting is simply unbearable. I think Sir Harold and I have heard enough, for now. If we need more information, we'll be sure to find you again. Miss Yande, you may return to the work I took you from, but make sure that these recipes make their way back to the palace chefs' ears." Yande nods with a growing smile before quickly walking away. Finally, she turns back to me and gestures to the kouign-amann. "Sir Harold, take these with us please."
Naturally I comply, and then we're on our way back to her quarters before Digraut can voice any complaints. Penjani periodically snatches a kouign-amann from the racks as we walk. She's nearly finished her third as I seal the door behind us and she begins the process of reactivating some security measures and spoofing others. "<So, how did your mother respond, if you've gotten word back yet?>" I ask, switching to Wakandan automatically, once she gives the all-clear.
"<I have,>" she replies as she grabs a fourth pastry, "<and she was surprisingly positive! She'd apparently already found out about the marriage clause from one of the main branch matrons. They were discussing whether they could arrange something between Prince T'Shamba and a girl from one of the ascendant factions, something about a house of blacksmiths? She says that they seemed stumped, since the factions' political climate is too insular.>"
Somehow, perhaps because she's no longer distracted by walking, she's already nearly half way done with her current kouign-amann. It's honestly kind of impressive how quickly she's eating them without making any mess or muffling her speech.
"<She was rather happy to hear that I'd made in-roads into a similar group, I hardly had to do any convincing to get her on board. I just mentioned that you were the man I had in mind, and that pretty much decided it for her. In her words, it 'presents a very convenient simplification to Guardsman Smith-Stacks's situation', and after we worked out some of the details, she went off to talk with father about it. I expect to hear back from him tonight, and probably to have official word on the proposal from the King by early next week. We agree that, unless there's some completely unforeseen complication, that he's almost certain to approve of it. Uncle has always been something of a progressive, even if the Splicing put him on the defensive.>" She gives me a prideful smile and pops the last of her current pastry into her mouth, immediately plucking another from the racks. "<Now then, how about we get started on this culinary journey?>"
I grab a kouign-amann for myself at this point as I begin to realize that the princess might actually eat all two dozen of them herself if I don't, before nodding to her. "<First though, I had another question for you. I have a friend here in Colchester, Nimue. She's an apprentice of Merlin, she's a genius, she's a techie like us, and I think the two of you would get along great. I'm planning on doing a postmortem analysis on the training dummies with her later today, since King Arthur really let them have it this morning, and I thought I'd ask if you'd be interested in joining in?>"
She considers it for a long moment, long enough to worry me a little, but eventually she gives me a nod. "<I trust your judgement Stax. When were you thinking of doing this postmortem?>"
I take a bite of my pastry, which is just as delicious as the last time I had one of Digraut's kouign-amann, and am renewed in my surprise that Penjani is tearing through them as quickly as she is. It's true that they're not super heavy on the palate or overly sweet, but they are incredibly rich, to the point where I feel pretty much satisfied with mine after one bite. As I savor that bite, I send a silent message off to Nimue to tell her that Penjani is indeed interested, but that I've become somewhat entangled in another activity so my two hour estimate is probably going to be wrong, and that I'll message her again once I'm done. "<It depends on how long this 'culinary journey' takes us. I was thinking sometime before I went off with King Arthur and some of the other Knights on a hunt this afternoon, but we don't need to rush. If there isn't time this morning we can get to it this evening instead, or even sometime tomorrow.>"
I get Nimue's acknowledgement back as Penjani nods. "<Right then. Let's start with a battery of structural resonance tests and phaser diffraction scans, just to get an idea of what these> kouign-amann <are really like at the nano scale...>"
⁂
The pastry analysis ends up all through the morning, and far enough into the afternoon that I need to rush to catch with the other Knights before they set out on the hunt. It turns out that the way that the sugar and butter are layered and folded into the kouign-amann (and lots of other pastries, albeit to a lesser degree) has some parallels to atomic vibro-metallurgy, which lead us down a bit of a rabbit hole of trying to figure out just how far we could push it in that direction. The Archive even started chiming in too, diffidently at first when we started considering whether this could be an innovation in delivering medicine, then with interest when we considered whether this plausibly could be incorporated into the recently developed enhancement program that the royals and royal guard have been subject to.
'ALRIGHT, I CAN ACCEPT THERE IS SOME VALUE TO THIS RELATIONSHIP. BUT THE OTHERS ARE ABOUT TO DEPART ON THE HUNT! GO!'
We're well on the way to something, maybe even something big, but the Archive has a point. "<I need to go join the other Knights and the King on the hunt. I'll check in as soon as we're back.>"
"<Naturally, Stax.>" She pulls me into a hug, then a kiss, before sliding my helmet back on for me. "<I'll look forward to seeing your quarries in the great hall tonight, and to meeting this Nimue you've mentioned!>"
Then I'm off, flying only slightly slower than I did this morning, shooting across the courtyard outside Penjani's window, sending another message to Nimue to apologize for the delay. I glide down into my place among the gathered throng of Knights, alongside my fellow neophytes, though Sir Seth isn't with us. I don't catch any of the King's pre-hunt speech, and then Merlin comes around with his coterie of druids-in-training, leads us to the standing stones a little way outside the city limits (new ones, that he apparently raised not long after the splicing), and starts performing some kind of ritual, which culminates with several cattle being slaughtered on the plinth.
When the sky goes dark and a pillar of clouds descends to the plinth before opening into a luminous portal with a crack of thunder, I start to regret missing the King's speech and having no idea what the hell is actually going on. Then the King leads us through the portal, and as I cross the threshold, I can feel the difference. The air itself is thick with magic, so full of ethereal power that I can practically feel it washing against my armor, and I can see most of the other Knights react, only the King's inner circle and a few of the other old-timers seeming really prepared for the experience. "Welcome, my loyal Knights, to the Puckwood!" the King exclaims, "The gate of mist will close at sunset, but until then, feel free to explore! I will be pursuing some game of personal interest, which I'm sure you will see later. I will not be making a show of my hunt, so unless you believe yourself able to keep my pace, I encourage you to follow your own paths!" He punctuates that with a sweep of his brilliant blade, cutting through the cloudy sky and revealing a necklace of blue and the Sun as its jewel, slowly but steadily sinking towards the horizon. "Good hunting!"
Then he disappears in a flash of light, and the Knights dissolve into small teams and individual hunters immediately, rushing through the trees to try and find suitably impressive prey. I hadn't made plans to team-up with anyone, and don't really have time to talk now, so I'm on my own. I'm not super attached to earning a lot of glory here, I'll have plenty of opportunity for that on the Quest, but as I rise into the sky and cast out my suit's numerous probes and scanners to build a map of this place, I realize that this might be an ideal time to drink some good, powerful blood. Not from the other Knights, obviously, but from some variety of sylvan fey-creature.
Experimentally, I slide my faceplate open and take a deep, unfiltered breath of the forest air, and can't suppress the shiver that runs through me as I process all the countless scents and auras permeating it. Even without my suit's help, my vampire-senses can tell there's powerful blood all around, ripe for the picking. I close my faceplate again, committing the locations of potential targets to memory, and then fly, my suit's computer calculating an efficient flight-path to take to one after another.
⁂
By the time the sun is touching the horizon, I'm more than a bit blood-drunk. It's a really strange sensation, especially considering I've never been normal-drunk, but it's certainly not unpleasant. I can see why going into feeding frenzies might be an issue, especially for non-Masters. Fortunately I can seal up the vents on my armor, so I don't need to worry about getting a whiff of somebody and not being able to stop myself from biting them, and I can rely on my armor's motion stabilizer and voice modifier to cover up the other noticeable symptoms. Nothing to be done about the reduced focus aside from letting it digest, though. The evening slips by quickly, first the presenting of the catches, including the monstrous, gilded and jeweled boar which the King brought. There's dancing and music, and I give Penjani a perhaps ill-considered whirl on the dance-floor. The game is dressed and slaughtered and cooked and eaten alongside more delicious fare from the castle kitchens. I only manage to swallow the bare minimum to meet decorum, still feeling uncomfortably full of blood. There is more dancing and music, and as my drunkenness begins to abate I dance with Penjani again, this time a bit more coherently. There's more to the feast after that, but it's acceptable for a newer Knight like me to retire for the evening at this point, and I do. Penjani is understanding of my plight, even worried for me, and I excuse myself by saying that I overexerted myself on the hunt and need some rest. My train of thought is still too slippery for me to really think straight, and I need some time to clear my head before I sneak off to make my dead drop at around 3 AM.
The Archive grumbles soundlessly in the back of my mind, but with its direct access to my brain-state, it can't argue that I'm in a poor state to make meaningful progress on any of our designs. Thus, I spent the next several hours meditating, circulating my qi, and observing my body and spirit as they broke down the blood I'd consumed, absorbed its constituent matter and magic, and then synthesized them into more of myself. My drunkenness didn't help, but it fades progressively and by the time 3 AM comes around I've seen enough to have the strong feeling that the process could be optimized through cultivation, or at least better controlled, though I have no idea how. I add a request for some info on that to my dead drop, and maybe I'll do some digging in the Clear Window's archive the next time I'm actually on the sect campus.
Regardless, tonight my excess feeding has earned me two new powers: the ability to hypnotize the feeble-minded and weak-willed, and the ability to project cutting streams of blood from my eyes, like the combination of a greater short-horned lizard and a waterjet. The former is very useful, though also more than a bit frustrating, since I can feel that the hypnotic trance I could create would also interfere with the formation of memories during it, more or less completely obviating the need for the amnestic formula that I and the Archive developed last night. The latter is...potentially useful? I need to experiment to see how it interacted with my enhancements and qi techniques before I can really decide on its relevance, though.
That settled, I fabricate my dead drop parcel (the Elder Council is rather fond of physical media for some reason) and fly out of my window and into the night's darkness. The dead drop location is a ways away, about as far out into the country as you can get on an island of Britain's size, but at my speed it's still only a little over a minute of flying. Like always, it's just some nondescript patch of dirt in the middle of a forest, nowhere near any footpaths, well-covered by trees. A good place to hide something, naturally. That, plus the fact that I'm still a little blood-drunk, is probably why I don't notice the shape in the darkness that proceeded to grapple me out of the air and drag me down below the treetops.
Fearing that the dead drop location has been compromised by a hunter, I spit out the syllables of Stitch in Time as quickly as I can, rewinding back. I attempt to probe out the position of my attacker, approaching the drop-off site from every angle and wielding all of my suit's sensors, but soon I've reached the limit of my spiritual stamina. I'll have to either take this fight head-on, or abandon the dead drop and suffer the consequences.
'STAX, THIS ISN'T A HUNTER, OR AT LEAST NOT ONE USING ANY OF THE TECHNIQUES OR EQUIPMENT ON RECORD. AS MUCH AS IT PAINS ME TO SAY THIS, IT MIGHT BE BETTER TO STAND DOWN.'
'It's worth a shot, I guess.' I reply, before bracing myself for the incoming impact of the grapple. Sure enough, I'm pulled down to the earth by the shadows once again, this time keeping Bolt from the Blue's utterance at the ready. However, after contorting me into a suitably pinned position, rather than staking or decapitating me, my captor attempts (and fails, incredibly, thanks to my fusion of Albionian and Wakandan engineering) to remove my helmet before deciding to just whisper into the portion of it over my ear.
"Your passivity has drawn the ire of the Council, yearling. You have grown satisfied in your safety, and failed to pay the Council its due respect. I am here to correct your mistake. You will be following my orders until the Council deems your loyalty proven. You will report to me on a weekly basis. Your work will not end with mere observation of the mortal's activity. You will be my tool for sapping the stubborn defenses of this pitiful island. Do you understand?" My captor, who my intuition now detects as another opponent in the Arena, gives me a painful squeeze to punctuate their question.
"Y-yes, I understand." My reply is synthesized, as my true voice continues to cycle through the initial words of Bolt from the Blue, just in case.
There's a long pause before they continue. "Acceptable. You will give me your report now." I release the folder, thick with pages of inconsequential information, into the grasp of the darkness where it disappears from my sight and sensors. "You will meet me at the next location in seven night's time."
Then, the darkness holding me disappears, and I'm alone in the woods. 'Fucking hell.'
'I DID MANAGE TO ANALYZE SOME OF THEIR TECHNIQUES, DESPITE THE SENSOR JAMMING. WE WILL BE BETTER PREPARED NEXT TIME.'
'Maybe so, but I'll need to figure out how to handle the new directive first. We won't be in any better a situation if I manage to thrash this guy but call down the Elders' wrath.'
The Archive gives its wordless acknowledgement, and I fly back to Colchester in rather poor spirits. Hopefully tomorrow can bring some better news.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
You win. Clearly I am simply trying to manipulate you, with my clear and obvious belief that you are susceptible to gilt.
Gabbie
That One Writer
- Location
- Italy
- Pronouns
- They/Them
The problem with this all is that Wolfy is right. Going Freedom is literally throwing away every single drop of sweat Hunger has put in his quest. He chose Vengeance at the beginning, for the promise of rising above those that hurt him. He's not even 1% close to that objective, so why should we stop now? Haeliel had Apocryphal and she's a High Cursebearer, so it is evidently possible to reach those levels. And as Wolfy said, we can take a big-ass Curse off the Accursed. That's like restoring a limb, so...
[X] Vengeance
...because it is the correct choice. Emotions don't matter. Feel-good, wholesome endings are useless in the face of an objectively perfect universe which will bring about infinitely-larger feel-good wholesome endings. The Vengeance option contributes to this world, to the Victorious World. Freedom, at that point, is just blatant and tremendous selfishness. "Boo hoo wife back!!!!!" That is an incredibly selfish reason to decide not to significantly aid the biggest battle of the omniverse or whatever. As the blurb said, the odds we can take off the Tyrant's Doom from the Accursed aren't "even that remote," which means that it is really fucking significant.
Let's also consider the fact that as many people before me mentioned, Hunger isn't alone. He's not going to suddenly turn evil or anti-Accursed because who the fuck knows. We have the literal Seraph of Heroism on our shoulder, and she approves of the Vengeance option. Also the other companions we have support this choice. Do you think they'll just leave and disappear, going, "Well, Hunger, you're an unrepentant prick and an uncompromising ass but that's not really any different from when I first met you, but for some reason, now in particular I don't like you anymore" thus kickstarting Hunger's inevitable fall to eeEeEEeEeeEvil? Let's be honest.
Vengeance is the way to go.
(And either way, Gisena is better. /j )
Magical_Duck
The One Who Quacks
- Location
- A Pond
- Pronouns
- Duck
Hunger has refused the resurrection of his wife and child to strike at those responsible for their deaths before. It was the first decision offered in this quest. He has more information now, but (other than the Accursed's request) nothing that would in my estimation change that choice. Why should the Maiden offering this be any more compelling than taking a Combat-type build with Three Wishes? If anything it's a worse bargain now, because Hunger selected burdens that would complicate a comfy life with his family. He'd have Indenture, Decimation, and Tyranny - three Curses rather than the minimum two that could've achieved this outcome on day one. Plenary and either Lunacy or Slumber would've been better.
All the distance that Hunger has traveled, all the trials that he's overcome, all the times he's slipped free of death's jaws... was all that simply to relitigate the first vote, and make a different decision? What a waste. The odds of victory are low, but that's never dissuaded him before. It's tempting to portray the Forebear of Dynasties as an unrepentant monster, but having spent hundreds of thousands of words inside Hunger's head we know for a fact that's simply untrue. He will not become a monster simply because we vote to stay the course, certainly not with the Seraph of Heroism's advice. He'll continue as he began, which thanks to the thread's collective efforts is hardly a bad thing.
We know what the Forebear does when given the latitude to reshape a world according to his whims. He makes A Winter Dynasty, and spends most of his time and effort training for the next challenge. With Blood Halo his incentives point towards incessant war, but an omniverse with the Bleak Procession has no shortage of cosmic ills worth waging it on. It's not as if the Decimator's Affliction will disappear with Freedom, he'll just have less avenues for mitigation.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
See, that's a philosophical argument I can engage with and respect.
Frankly, I think it has its limits and loses its luster as the numbers that are going up escalate forever.
At some point you end up recapitulating Pascal's Mugging.
Now that's a good one.
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