A Simple Transaction I

[Rihaku]

[X] Bloodslayer has won. Gisena is busy, working on developing her Sorcerous powers, but says she'll be finished in a day or two. What now to do?

[ ] The Encampment - Now that he's considerably more powerful than a Middle Temple Outrider, Hunger believes the risk / reward ratio of the Encampment to be much more favorable. He can also check on Graven and his brother to see if they've finished preparing the foods he wanted to buy for Letrizia, and to interrogate them about the adventurers who suddenly showed up around the antechamber...

*Hunger will follow reasonable precautions to avoid Doom of the Tyrant interactions, but will not grossly alter his personality to work around it
*Can try to hire/persuade adventurers to join him, though he doesn't have a particular surfeit of actual funds...
*Chance of Tyranny proc: estimated 30-50% for one day of interaction, but Hunger believes 90%+ of these will not result in a disadvantageous situation for him.

[ ] Hunt Relentlessly - So long as his fleshly body remains un-slain, Hunger can now recover easily from damage taken within fights. This allows for a pace of hunting previously unseen, the wholesale butchery of thousands of foes a day. By substituting raw numbers of enemy quality, and by relying on the advanced progression of the Ring of Blood, Hunger can make some forward progress while keeping to the Outer Temple. Even the likes of the Dreadbeast can be felled with relative ease given his new strength and offensive parameters. Let us hope it does not attract untoward attention.

*Duration: 1-2 days before Hunger stops receiving noticeable benefits from Outer Temple opponents.
*Gain 2 picks. Estimated chances below:
*90% chance of uneventful victory
*8% chance of receiving +1 pick from a powerful enemy
*2% chance of engaging a truly powerful enemy (starts combat)

[ ] Breach the Middle - Assault the Middle Temple again. There is no time to waste. You'll have to adjust your tactics somewhat to make up for the lack of Gisena, though your now-massively improved offensive arsenal will more than bridge the gap against most foes.

*Duration: 1 day
*Gain 3 or 4 picks. Estimated chances below:
*50% chance of uneventful victory
*30% chance of engaging a truly powerful enemy (starts combat)
*15% chance of engaging an overwhelmingly powerful enemy (starts combat)
*5% chance of death, with a 60% chance that Form of Rage allows for successful withdrawal thereafter.

More powerful enemies may offer heightened Rank or rare Advancements.

[ ] Buff Gisena - It's been a long couple of days. Hunger could use some time off, and it's dangerous to engage significant foes without Gisena. Instead use the Ring of Blood to augment her, giving her limitless energy and vibrant health during her research, and see if you can help her advance. May hasten and/or improve results of her research.

*Duration: 1-2 days
*Effectiveness determined by Intelligence
*Gain 1 pick if successful
*+Gisena, +Letrizia, removes Chill of the Grave
*Reduce the Arete cost of [Super Juggernaut Undead Chimera] by 1

Picks from the options above will be utilized in a separate spending point.

---

You received 1 pick from defeating the Green Knight and his mob. You have 2.9 Arete. Choose only one.

[ ] Echo of the Forebear - Cloud shadow of the Forebear's might. Legendary strength and speed, and the resilience to exert them. Can be taken multiple times. [+Might, +Agility]

[ ] Opalescence - The soft light of evening before which all attacks falter. Improves defensive parameters. [+Protection]

[ ] Fierce Quickening - The absurd violence of Blood unleashed. Let all that falls within its dominion be spilled, if it be in service to the Ringbearer. Adds [++Agility, +Wits] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Vigor Itself - The primordial might and glory of Blood resplendent. Let all who witness its form tremble, and be subject. Adds [++Might, +Charisma] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Augment Dominion: Blood - The world-wielding will of the Ring. Treat the wielder's Rank as if it were (.5 Low/.25 Medium/.1 High) higher for purposes of the [Ring of Power] effect applied to the Blood domain, increasing its potency and versatility. Repeatable, but costs 1 more pick each time.

[ ] Fall of Night - 2 Arete. Conjunctional [Forebear's Blade, Evening Sky]. The stroke of his blade is the fall of night, to every foe the sun of hope extinguished. ++Strength, +Agility. Blade projections of all kinds deal one-third more damage with a one-tenth chance to inflict critical damage, tripling the harm done and applying half again the power of ruin. Control and manipulation of blade winds becomes far less taxing. The surcharge in power for stronger blade-winds is substantially reduced. The wielder becomes capable of manipulating the properties of his falls; falls whose nature is languid but whose movement is swift, gentle falls that strike with magnified weight and heft, falls from great distance that do no harm, and so on.

[ ] Exalted Spirit - 2 Arete. Conjunctional [Hunger, Evening Sky]. Mind made vigorous as the body. Gain +Int, +Wits, +Wis, +Cha, -Heartlessness, while in a form with physical blood. Allies under blood enhancement gain +Int, +Cha. Blood enhancement requires physical blood.

[ ] Blood Rage - 2 Arete. Conjunctional [Hunger, Forebear's Blade]. Blind fury which grants the will to fight on. +Might. Roll twice, take better to activate the Form of Rage. If the second roll is needed to activate, it activates successfully but the character goes berserk until the target of his rage is destroyed or fled from.

[ ] Knight of Holly - 2 Arete. Defining Advancement. The knight out of legend, unbowed and alone, who withstands the terrible blow to strike back threefold.

You may only have three Defining Advancements.

*Gain +++AGI, +++Might, and +Protection while in your flesh body.
*Gain +Luck, -20% Experience.
*Once per battle, ignore one wound to your physical form. You suffer no wound penalties from it and gain temporary Health equal to the Health lost from it. Even decapitation is no problem with this. Temporary Health fades slowly over the course of 24 hours.
*Choose one: -20% to INT, WIS, WITS, or CHA, and to subsequent growth of that Attribute.
*Increase by 10% the value of Rank increases associated with martial valor, honor, or purity, but decrease by 30% the value of other Rank increases.

 

[Rihaku]

Once and Future

Evening came. Letrizia had retreated into Verschlengorge to rest, while Gisena meditated quietly beside the campfire, legs crossed in the lotus position. Instincts honed through years of supernatural warfare alerted him to the gathering of mystical force. He rose, blade in hand, scanning the horizon.

"Oh, did I startle you?" Gisena's eyes opened. "Sorry! I'm close to a breakthrough right now."

"Warn me first," he admonished, sitting back down. "I thought we had more teleporters incoming."

She laughed, scooting next to him. "If that'd been the case I would have warned you!"

"So, a breakthrough."

She nodded. "I've got to keep up, or you'll be all by your lonesome. Lucky for you I'm so smart."

"Just me, Letrizia, and Verschlengorge. All alone."

"Yup! But don't worry, I think I've grasped a new aspect to the nature of findross. If I'm correct, the Foremost utilized it as well. Letrizia's work has been quite helpful on the matter."

"Really?" He looked at her, eyes wide.

She giggled. "Curious now? I wonder what you'll give to know... ?"

"I'm giving you my attention right now," he deadpanned. "That could change."

"Oh my!" She clutched her hands to her chest. "Well, in that case, how about this? Tell me something about your adventures. Letrizia's not the only one with a mysterious past, mister hero."

"Hmph." He closed his eyes. "My... wife was the adopted heiress of the Tyrant. She originally infiltrated our group on his orders, but turned against him when she saw the depredations inflicted upon the people. She sacrificed herself and our unborn child so I could deliver the killing blow against him. I put everything of myself into that final attack. By my estimation, half my spirit and my memories were burned away. That was about a year ago now. Much of the past is a mystery to me as well."

Gisena gently laid a hand on his arm. "May I give you a hug?"

He closed his eyes. "Sure."

She drew him into a soft embrace, whispered words falling gently into his ear. Her hair draped over his face, its delicate scent wafting over him. "It's not your fault. You know she doesn't blame you. That she would reject any idea that you had failed at all. But that doesn't feel like it's good enough. You want to blame yourself, because that means you could have made a difference, perhaps?"

"Gisena..."

She drew back slightly, bringing them face to face, and cocked her head in an expression of faux innocence. "Hm? Am I wrong?"

He scoffed lightly. "What do you think?"

"I think it's not healthy to keep everything bottled up by yourself. You can rely on us, just until you get everything in order."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're one to talk. Have you ever lost your composure before?"

She smiled sadly, leaning into the embrace again. "I've been trying to become less controlled since I arrived in this world!"

Gisena paused, mulling over her next words. "The Maiden... is every Sorceress' role model, the founder of our civilization and source of all our Graces. To quickly advance in Sorcery, one should emulate her as closely as possible. Excellence in every field. Perfection in grace and poise. And, it goes without saying, remaining a pure and chaste maiden. Not to brag, but it all came easily for me. Many lords tried courting me, but none of them ever came close to keeping up, so it was easy to avoid becoming interested. It was easy to deflect them, easy to master the arts and sciences, easy to advance as a Sorceress... I never really faced anything comparable to what you did, since I portaled away before the Hero could begin his conquest. My home civilization may be doomed, but I've never had to see it burn. Would I lose my composure if I had?"

She shrugged, voice soft. "...I don't know. It's not that it doesn't hurt, but it's simply not in my nature to show it. Perhaps that's because of training. But, I think it's more likely that I was always like this. That it's simply who I am."

"...Perhaps you're fine as you are. In any case, it was a ringing endorsement of yourself."

"Isn't it? I could go on all day about how wonderful I am. The perfect distraction from your ills!"

"Well, at least she's self-aware."

"Speaking of, I'm hopeful this new breakthrough will free me of the Maiden's shadow, allowing me to improve my sorceries directly! Though I'm not certain of the exact benefits it'll bring..."

"Don't blow yourself up."

"Hm? Gonna miss me?"

"I won't miss your cooking, that's for certain."

"Really? I think it's cute. Everyone should have at last one quirk like that."

"As long as one doesn't inflict it on others."

"I'll have you know, I unwrapped some ration bars for Letrizia the other day, and she said they tasted perfectly fine!"

He patted her on the back. "There, there. Do you hear this? That's the sound of one hand clapping."

---

Dawn of the next day saw him rising from his bedroll to greet the sun. Letrizia was up as well, furiously brushing her teeth as Verschlengorge slumbered. The Armament's chest was open, low to the ground so that its pilot could use the inbuilt bathroom for its water faucet and mirror.

"I've been meaning to ask, has your civilization not invented an easier solution for that?"

"Hwah?" She gargled and spat. "Sorry, what?"

"The toothbrush and toothpaste."

"Oh!" She set her cup down, splashing water repeatedly on her face, energetically applying a towel. "You and Miss Gisena have it easy, with your Rank and fancy findross. We do have technologically sophisticated dental hygiene, but it requires some infrastructure. Out in the field this is just more reliable."

"Like your paper manuals?"

"Yup!" She chirped, leaning against Verschlengorge's recumbent hand. "Also, a lot of augments aren't compatible with the Totality control scheme. Verschlengorge was grumpy even about my hair for a while, and that's nothing!"

She pretended casualness, dragging her foot in the dirt. "So, what's the plan for today, intrepid bodyguard? Going to invade the Temple again?"

"Thinking about it," he stretched idly. "Gisena will stay here with you, but don't expect her to be of any use. She's busy meditating to attain a Sorcerous breakthrough of some kind."

"So I'll have to keep her safe, huh? Maybe I should dock your pay for that!"

"You can try," he said amusedly.

"W-what's that supposed to mean? Think I won't do it?"

"It'd be Gisena's portion of the pay, feel free to take it up with her."

"Aheheheh..."

"Anyway," she walked around him, hands behind her back, "You don't need to worry about us. If anything, we should be doing the bulk of the worrying here. Have you considered taking it easy for a day or two?"

"Yes, I decided against it."

She nodded, a bit downcast. "Okay. Hey, when do you think 'Ber' is going to return? Are we strong enough to beat him yet?"

"I doubt it. But he won't be back for a while. We have at least a few weeks more. In that time, I'll need to surpass him, or get Verschlengorge's biological components repaired to an acceptable standard."

"That's going to be tough." She bit her lip. "Without the proper facilities, it'll be hard to bring him to anywhere near fully operational. Most of the biological side is Foremost technology. I know your ring is powerful, but..."

"Give it time. We'll see in a week or two if the Armament is still beyond this particular ring of power. And if not, there's another one that I'm trying to liberate from the Temple denizens."

"Well, good luck!" She said, skipping over to the Armament's cockpit. "Don't be out too late. Any preferences for dinner?"

"That soup was good."

"Mm-hm! Soup it is!"

---

[X] Breach the Middle with [X] Fall of Night has won.

Gisena's Sorcerous evolution will be complete in two days. You did not choose to assist her, but you may still gain access to some of the options via Arete expenditure, representing Gisena's own moment of genius. You have 2 Arete.

High Sorceress - Through her examination of Letrizia's research into the nature of Pressure, Astral Rank and the Foremost, Gisena has transformed herself into a High Sorceress, findross integrated indelibly into her spirit so that her Sorcerous state is now the default. Her separate Graces have been merged and expanded into an overarching power of Nullity, though she remains conversant only with a few functions identical to her previous power-set at the current time. Still, the potential for future growth is tremendous, and she's already made a breakthrough in one area:

[ ] Incident Nullification - Gisena is able to nullify specific phenomena or concepts on which she has practiced extensively; the more abstract and influential the target, the more difficult the Nullifcation, with even moderate nullifications being of surpassing complexity. However, the ultimate potential for this ability is vast.

*Low initial utility, high potential.

[ ] Lance of Nullity - A focused burst of intensified Nullity that carries the full disenchanting force of her Ultimate, but at far less cost. Simple and effective, if a bit linear.

*High initial utility, low potential.

[ ] Grand Nullification - 2 Arete. Focusing on the single greatest threat to the party's safety and livelihood, Gisena mitigates the Apocryphal Curse one full step further. This will sharply decrease the amount of energy and potential she has to spare on combat applications, unless you invest considerably into her future development options.

*I hope I don't have to point out the merits of this option
*I will say that it has minimal bearing on your immediate circumstances, however.

[ ] Sublime Attainment - 2 Arete. It is said that this Sorceress' only lot is to nullify, but that is false. The powers of the Maiden are but one aspect of her Grace; her supernal perfection is the other. For is it not the province of the Maiden to excel at all things? And who better to embody that legacy than Lady Gisena Allria, genius of her age? Fitting that a genius would so adeptly play to her strengths.

Sharply increases the Attribute bonuses granted to Gisena from Sorcery, increasing Gisena's physical attributes, Wits, and Appearance to levels competitive with Hunger's higher stats.

*Very high initial utility, medium potential
*Makes her existing arsenal much more accurate and improves her powers in social combat

Gisena will still have access to Incident Nullification and increased parameters either way, but not selecting them means she will not focus her efforts on those areas unless prompted in the future.

---

Though no true accommodation is possible with the residents of the Temple, it could not hurt to make them think otherwise, especially with your venturing into the Middle Temple alone. Then again, a hardened attitude and unswerving focus on violence have a certain effectiveness of their own...

[ ] Hear Them Out - Attempt diplomacy, reveal information about yourself and your Ring in an attempt to draw out information about the Inner Temple and their Ring. See if any pressure points remain for subversion or corruption of existing forces. Your Ring of Blood makes you intimidating to most living foes; many should be willing to talk when their very hearts quiver in fear of you. [+.25 Arete, +information?]

[ ] Cut Through - Their deaths are regrettable. But their opposition is inevitable. Therefore it can be no other way. Do it cleanly. Do it simply. No false pretenses. Like the Forebear would have wanted. [+1 pick to be spent on Forebear's Blade options, +5% effectiveness, +Mental Contamination, -1 Once and Future Cost]

[ ] Opportunistic Raiding - Actually, see if you can catch another party of adventurers in the midst of battle with the Middle or Inner Residents, ideally a party in need of some assistance. You can gain a group of useful companions and take out a powerful outrider in one fell swoop. And with the power of Astral Rank, you needn't rely solely on random chance to deliver such a tempting prospect to you! [+temp companions, +0-20% effectiveness, 20% chance of failure, in which case proceed with Breach the Middle unmodified]

 

[Rihaku]

Honor Unstained

As always, a blue horizon. The deep blue horizon of a mist-shrouded morning, the sky a callous gradient from black to bruise-blue, birdsong and a distant rumbling the only interruptions to the thick silence of this hour, a quiet thicker than the all-pervasive fog. A quiet like iron smog settling in the lungs. Even the detritus of the Inners is oppressive.

He shook his head, blinking away his father's resentments. The contamination was worsening. For six hundred and seventy-six days, Vanreir had awoken at exactly this time to attend to his daily duties. He grabbed pail and cloth and began to scrub.

There were those for whom duty was a prison and habit its cage, but he considered both more as scaffolding, the bedrock structure on which a life could be built. Meticulously he cleaned his room, the light of his soul kept coiled and inert, and moved steadily on to his sister's.

"Mm..." Erii was sleeping still, wrapped protectively around her plush pillow, and he maneuvered around her with quick, efficient movements, wiping down the weathered wood of the floors and carefully organizing her toys and knick-knacks.

"Brother?" She murmured groggily, slowly sitting up. She was growing more alert, even as his own body continued its slow decay. One day they would meet in the middle, and then irreversibly diverge. But not today.

"Hush, small one. Go back to sleep." He smiled and placed a hand on her head. Today, he could still keep her safe.

"M'kay. Love you." She nuzzled his hand affectionately before settling down to sleep.

It is all on your shoulders now, my son. Everything I am, I leave to you. Let my soul be your guide. Let your soul be my tomb. And let this be enough, to awaken that which was promised. Please... let it be enough.

Finished with his task, he walked past the now-empty master bedroom and towards the water closet. Their home was presentable, time to work on himself. A simple, linear routine was best. Fluctuation was the predecessor to instability.

In the distance, the Star-forges of the Inner Ring began their spinup, ceaseless clanging like a bell endlessly rung. They would not stop until well after the sun went down. Were the Inner Residents inured to the clamor, or did some miraculous artifice render them immune?

One day, they would know the answer. One day, they would live Inside as well. Soon, if he proved himself. If he made just one more step forward. They were such wondrous rumors of the Land Inside, and yet the veil of secrecy was profound, so much so that even an Outrider of his exalted rank didn't warrant concrete details. Of all the scattered peoples who'd come together around the Ring, his House had had the most precipitous fall. Once a legend, now a cautionary tale. His father had lived Inside, but Vanreir had never seen past the cerulean shell that marked the Inner Perimeter, and by the time of his birth his father had been unable to speak of matters beyond the sword and his legacy. Nonetheless, he didn't resent those who'd engineered their fall. Why wallow in bitterness, when one could move forward instead? He would dispatch them, like any other opponent, when the time came. One policy for all enemies was simplest.

His sigil hummed, and Vanreir suppressed a frown. The coordinators were well aware of how the light of his soul operated. They knew he was not to be bothered in the morning, regardless of the urgency of the task. An even, regular routine was necessary to stabilize the power within; for all the sharpness of his light, it could only ever move in one direction. He did not consider such a fault. That which was linear, was also stable. That which was simple, was also strong.

"First Blade," the sigil spoke, and he recognized the cadence of Chief Coordinator Thran, whose normally-jovial disposition was utterly absent now.

"How can I help?" He said. As he spoke he continued to move, shaving cream applied to the throat with circular whisks of his horsehair brush.

"There's been a major incursion. Your services are requested."

"Is it the Brutes again? I thought Gondar had dealt with them."

"No. The Fairbright."

Shocked as he was, his movements did not stop. Fluidly, effortlessly he drew the razor over skin, allowing himself to enjoy the satisfying schlick of the blade as it scooped cream and hair from skin. There, all done. Faultless and bloodless as always. His hands had never been so steady before his father's death.

He flicked away the last daub of shaving debris and slapped a hand across his cheeks, examining his reflection coolly. Eyes of storm blue. Hair of storm grey. His body's discorporation had not yet become apparent, his secret unrevealed. Time enough for two souls to do what one could not. Give us just one year more. One year, and Erii would be safe.

"The Fairbright," he finally said, voice level. "Her stay of execution's been lifted?"

"The Inners decided they want no part of her. Make it clean, First Blade. The stain on your House has almost been lifted."

His eyes widened slightly. "Faster than I'd expected. It hasn't even been two years. Will this be the last, then?"

"No. But we've detected two other R-types in the region. Bag them both and the Tribunal has agreed to review your case."

"Don't give me false hope, Coordinator."

"Experience has shown your abilities to be anything but false, Sir Amarlt. Keep this up and you'll be Lord Amarlt by day's end. Your grandfather would be pleased."

"And my father," he said.

The Coordinator coughed uncomfortably. "Er, yes. And... him. Good hunting, First Blade."

Unfortunate. He was far from peak condition, with his morning routine interrupted so. Still, this calibre of enemy did not demand his utmost. A junior Fairbright, her power barely tested. Mighty as their bloodline was, it could not compare to the light of his soul, much less his father's.

Seven decades had Justinan Amarlt trained to erase the disgrace of his youth. He'd never succeeded, but Vanreir was his legacy in form and in truth, the sword of their composite soul unfurling in perfect unity. Justinan the Blade. Vanreir the Unerring. They were hilt and tang, bullet and blasting-cap: helpless apart, but together unstoppable. Artificial as it was, they were the Unerring Blade returned, the Amarlt inheritance resurgent at last. As had been promised, if the successors were true and the hour was dire. Look through the cycle, and where I am needed, there you will find me.

Sometimes he wished that their forebear's standards had not been quite so high. Sometimes he thought that his father's life had been too high a price to pay, simply to prove the sincerity of their cause. But he cast such thoughts quickly out of mind. Sincerity was simple, that did not mean it was easy. For a disgraced line, even this minute Return was grace undeserved. His father had bent everything to their restoration. Some would say he had gone too far. They would never understand the nature of a Blade. This, son, is the essence of our Thrust...

Lightly he took his sword from its rack and stepped out the door. Dawn's first rays graced the horizon, the gold commingling with the blue. He spun his blade gently, crystal-steel trapping and refracting the light, sunbeams shattered into a dizzying spray. They painted the cobblestones and the world-worn walls of the Middle District and slipped futilely off the Inner Perimeter just beyond, its matte-blue opacity obdurate and unchanging.

Erii would be behind that sturdiest of walls soon enough. She was able, empathic and wise, already skilled in political maneuver. One day, she would ensure that House Amarlt could stand on its own legs once more, without the First Sword of the Outriders looming over its foes. On that day he would relinquish his father and join her for whatever years he had remaining. Until that day, there was only one thing that he could do.

Gabrielle Fairbright fell without incident. The blood of ten thousand heroes sang in her veins, choirs of the Astral had descended to shield her, her blade of legend had blazed like a second sun, plain become glass before its incandescence; and yet none of that had saved her from the ordinary thrust of his blade, which with unerring force struck true. That was his pride and culmination, the sole point and purpose of his existence, for which his father had given his life and his mother had died in despair. Strike a thousand times, or make one strike that tells.

That single strike his father had practiced day-in and day-out, practiced until his tendons wore down and his joints melted away, until his blood became dust and his bones became kindling, until the killing blow was nothing less than a way of life, and the conclusion of its stroke indistinguishable from life's ending.

I do not know if you will understand.
In the end, language can only reduce things so far.
This, son, is the essence of our Thrust:
Pierce through. Even if it cannot be pierced.

Panting, he leaned atop the blade like an old man with a cane, eyes roaming his body to assess the damage. His right arm was burned, his left arm a seared ruin, one eye gone, the lung on his left side unresponsive. A small price to pay to see a Fairbright downed. Though his body was a ruin, the light of his soul hummed merrily, eager and undiminished, its appetite whetted but far from sated. It was the nature of a thrust to go too far, to over-penetrate. That was how you made certain of the kill.

On to the next.

---

The winners were [X] Opportunistic Raiding and [X] Sublime Attainment. When did Hunger come across the First Blade?

[ ] R-Type #1 - How convenient, that the R-types would converge. Now Vanreir would not have to go searching. Enough simply to overcome them. A difficult task, but simple. The kind he liked best.

*Receive a +11% effectiveness bonus from allies of circumstance
*Though Vanreir is wounded, the light of his soul is otherwise at close to full power.

[ ] Close of Day - Mopping up some remnants, Vanreir encountered the second R-type, a man whose wounds were oddly symmetrical with those he'd picked up from his first fight of the day. Weakened and exhausted from his battles so far, nonetheless he would pierce through. One last obstacle, one last barrier, and then Erii would be safe.

*Vanreir is significantly weakened and, more importantly, fatigued from using his Compound Soul Evocation in multiple fights.
*However, his determination at this point is unstoppable, the inertia of the day and its proximity to victory fueling his will in all things.

Hunger's preliminary observations of Vanreir:

*A strange affinity
*A highly skilled swordsman, even moreso than Hunger himself
*Employs simple, linear, but highly effective tactics
*His basic thrust is his 'ultimate move'
*Once begun, his thrust cannot be interrupted, nor does he miss. Range is not a factor.
*Similarly, he cannot cancel out of his thrust either. It requires wholehearted commitment.
*His overall parameters are substantially greater than Hunger's, though this does not account for any blood-based debuffs or the Form of Rage.
*However, his thrust would be threatening even to that Form.

Choose 2 modifiers:

[ ] Preparation: Withdrawal - Just try to stay alive. Vanreir wants your head, but even if he chases you to the Outer Temple, it's unlikely he'll be able to pass through the antechamber's defenses.

+20% chance of survival
+40% chance of no rewards from this fight
+Discretion

[ ] Preparation: Focus - You've faced longer odds with fewer forces. Against a magus, perhaps you are helpless without Gisena or the element of surprise. But this is a swordsman, and if his skill in the art is presently the greater, still Hunger recalls his war against a bladesmaster far greater than him. Before the violet blade of the Tyrant, what is one man's ordinary Thrust?

+5% effectiveness
+Awakens Moderate Condition: Trauma after the fight concludes
+Valor

[ ] Preparation: Dialogue [2 Arete] - Try to draw upon the strange affinity and turn him to your side. There's no reason beyond raw intuition to think this would work...

Baseline 10% chance of success, can be modified by other votes and discussion.
As it currently stands, will put you in Arete Debt.

[ ] Preparation: Resolve - Withstand the Thrust, its sharp terrible wounds of body and soul, and opportunity arises. Speed and technique are not the only types of strength. Weather the enemy's blow and they are open to counterattack.

+8% combat effectiveness, +17% Form of Rage chance
+50% chance to suffer a devastating condition if victorious

Tactics, omakes and discussion of all kinds will improve your odds independent of, and possibly synergistic with, your choices, even if they are not used in the update itself. Consider your votes carefully!

 

[Rihaku]

Sky Above Sky

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.

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.

Such power had served him well, rendering the entirety of the Outer Temple a trivial exercise, and yet...

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Panting, Hunger gave his opponent a nod of acknowledgement. He could respect the tenacity, the sheer force of will behind his unswerving technique.

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.

"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.

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."

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.

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.

"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.

"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?"

"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.

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.

Enough of sword-projections. An opponent such as this deserved the physical blade.

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.

There was a clang of steel against silver, a clarion note of pure deflection. The Forebear's Blade fell from nerveless fingers.

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.

Falling rapidly, the bones of his hand a shattered ruin, the Forebear'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.

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.

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.

---

The winner was Dialogue and Resolve The Accursed, as expected. Choose your Devastating Complication.

[ ] Punctured Soul - Rank reduced by 10%, physical attributes by 20%, mental attributes by 30%, and social attributes by 40% for 1 month.

[ ] True Maiming - Liver wounded on a metaphysical level. Permanently reduce CON and CON improvements by 10% and suffer 400% increased vulnerability to poison and supernatural disease. Suffer severe damage upon strenuous exertion for the next three days.

[ ] Lingering Exhaustion - Exhausted for a week and Tired for the week after. Any interruption of rest may worsen Exhaustion.

---

You have 4 picks and have special dispensation to spend up to 2 Arete, assuming that your Arete generation this update will cover it.

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Echo of the Forebear - Cloud-shadow of the Forebear's might.
Legendary strength and speed, and the resilience to exert them. Can be taken multiple times. [+Might, +Agility]

[ ] The Ring of Power - Dominion - 2 Arete
A ring of power does not exert influence casually. It has its own will, its own preferences, and if that will should be inseparable from its owner's, its sway thereby shall be greater for it.

Select a domain of influence. While acting within its domain, [Ring of Power] effects are substantially less taxing and more potent; the effects of this can be abstracted as follows: treat the owner's Rank as if it somewhat* higher for related actions. You may select this advancement multiple times, choosing a different domain each time. If multiple domains apply, their bonuses do not compound.

*+0.5 if Low, +.25 if Mid, +.1 if High.

The available domains for Hunger are: War, Passion

[ ] Fierce Quickening - The absurd violence of Blood unleashed. Let all that falls within its dominion be spilled, if it be in service to the Ringbearer. Adds [++Agility, +Wits] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Vigor Itself - The primordial might and glory of Blood resplendent. Let all who witness its form tremble, and be subject. Adds [++Might, +Charisma] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Augment Dominion: Blood - The world-wielding will of the Ring.
Treat the wielder's Rank as if it were (.5 Low/.25 Medium/.1 High) higher for purposes of the [Ring of Power] effect applied to the Blood domain, increasing its potency and versatility. Repeatable, but costs 1 more pick each time.

[ ] Evening Sky - Opalescence - The soft light of evening before which all attacks falter.
Improves defensive parameters. [+Protection]

[ ] Evening Sky - Iridescence - 2 Arete - The sharp light of the stars before which all malice is lessened.
+Protection, +Charisma. Expands the range of effects subject to the Evening Sky, allowing it to passively weaken almost all forms of magic. Even Nullity itself can be once withstood before the Sky recedes.

--- 3-pick Advancements ---

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Ruinous Valor (3 picks)

Where he advanced, so did the tide of entire wars, the shock of his blade like a hurled epicenter, the trail of his passage but wasteland and rubble.

[+++++Strength]
Power of Ruin now scales upwards depending on your Strength.

Choose:
Einhander - You may not regrow or replace your left arm by any means. Substantially reduces the cost and increases the range of special attacks made with the Forebear's Blade. This Advancement grants Might instead of Strength (+Might = +Str, +Con).
Zweihander - Regrow your left arm. Your barehanded strikes now carry the full destructive power of the Forebear's Blade.

If Einhander is taken, unlocks One Arm Fury.
If Zweihander is taken, unlocks Martial Stances: Forebear's Blade

[ ] The Ring of Power - Inheritor (3 picks, 2 Arete)

He whose soul contains multitudes, may inherit the legacy of those fallen.

Defining Advancement. You may only have three Defining Advancements.

*Choose one Soul Evocation user you have slain. You may use their Soul Evocation at a substantial fraction of the original wielder's skill. Apply [To Shatter Heaven] to their Soul Evocation, but gain fragments of their selfhood.
*+50% to the value of that user's highest Attribute +s.
*+50% the value of that user's second highest Attribute +s.
*-10% to the value of future Rank +s, but you may train Rank manually.
*++Mental Contamination from the user you target. Their soul lives on as your prisoner.
*Available Evocations: The Librarian. The Correspondent. The Unerring.

--- 4-pick advancements ---

[ ] Feat: Kinslayer - A true opponent's worth. Set Rank to 5. (4 picks)

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Uttermost (4 picks)

Focus beyond absolute focus. To cut what cannot be cut. To pierce what cannot be pierced. To go further and even further beyond in the unrelenting pursuit of perfection. To exert every iota of self, turn every faculty of purpose, bind every testament of will towards a single, unswerving ideal: that is what it means to do one's uttermost. There are no compromises for he who walks the path of the blade.

Do, even if it cannot be done.

Defining Advancement. You may only have three Defining Advancements.

Cannot mitigate the Doom of the Tyrant beyond its original state
Expends and sacrifices the Form of Rage
Increase by 30% the value of all Rank +s
Reduce by 30% to the value of Luck, Protection, Wisdom and Charisma +s
+++++++Willpower, ++All Other Stats
First Blade: Restores the Forebear's Blade. Apply the effects of the Fell-Handed Stroke, including modifiers, to all basic attacks with no surcharge. You may upgrade [A Thousand Cuts] to [Cut Through] for the difference in their Arete costs.

[ ] Hunger - Stranglethorn (4 picks)

Age and treachery made flesh.

The might of beasts is not the only province of the ring Hunger. It bears witness to a deeper and elder power as well, the strength of root and stem that bleeds life from the earth itself to thrust upwards towards heaven. The might of oaks, ancient and thousand-ringed, which crumbles stone and blunts steel, which repels the wind and absorbs the tide, which stands unscathed even in the face of heat and fury. That juggernaut stubbornness like a gnarled fist: the power to push through problems with patient, unyielding strength, to break them down and see them crushed beneath you.

Defining Advancement. You may only have three Defining Advancements.

Increase by 20% the value of all Rank +s
Double the value of Strength and Constitution +s
Double the value of Willpower +s
Reduce by 20% the value of Agility +s
Establishment: By committing meaningful resources towards a given context, and staking out a solid position, you slowly but increasingly accrue power and influence within that context, becoming ever-more inescapable and impossible to dislodge.

 

[Rihaku]

Arisen Again

Hunger trudged wearily out of the Temple, kicking up clouds and eddies of dust with his ragged, irregular stride. He had the speed and strength of two hundred men, and the physical resilience to support that power, but the bone-deep exhaustion from his fight with Amarlt left his pace slow and tremulous. The swordsmaster had been by far the mightiest outrider that he'd crossed paths with, and only his last-minute gambit with the Ring had torn victory from the clutches of death.

He'd tangled with a few more outriders on his path of retreat, but they were no more skilled than the goldenrod archer. Refreshingly, they fell quickly to his standard feints and tactics, requiring barely more exertion than the ghostly Knights. Though he'd not fully absorbed the power from the Amarlt's defeat, perhaps it was already paying dividends. Despite the weariness, in some respects his mind and body actually felt sharper.

Even so, he could go no further today. Slowly he made his way to Verschlengorge, catching Letrizia in the middle of a skirmish against a pack of Astral Beasts. Exhausted as he was, still his power eclipsed these rabble utterly. With a brief exertion he appeared before them, linear slice like a sudden horizon bisecting their angular frames. They chittered and fell over, green blood spouting furiously from their bodies as they slowly succumbed.

He frowned. Though the Ring had healed his wounds of the body, something about his restored liver felt slightly off. Had Amarlt's first blow struck also at his spirit? In the heat of battle he'd hardly noticed, but the organ seemed somewhat frailer than before. His healed eye appeared to have avoided any complications, but that had been a shallow thrust, while the swordsman's first strike had pierced cleanly through.

He would have Gisena take a look when she was finished. He was fortunate not to have taken many true wounds from the battle with Vanreir, despite how taxing it had been. It was a tired cliche that a duel between experts could easily be decided by a single wound, but true nonetheless. In that sense his stroke had cut deeper, though he'd been outclassed both in power and skill. And yet sometimes that was the way of the world. Circumstance was a weapon no less deadly for the fact that it was profoundly unfair.

"You're back early!" Letrizia's cheerful voice boomed over her Armament's speakers. "Also, no stealing my targets! I've got to stay in shape somehow!"

"Oh? I thought I was your bodyguard. Going to prevent me from fulfilling my duties?"

"Gotta stay sharp so I can defend myself!" Verschlengorge punched the air energetically. "Else, I'll be paying for bodyguards forever!"

"Ah, they grow up so fast..."

"Anyway, how was it today? Did you make good progress?"

"In a sense." He sat, leaning the Forebear's Blade against a boulder. Briefly he allowed his eyes to slip closed. The daytime sun bore down relentlessly, but the pull of slumber was stronger still, soft undertow of thoughtless dreams...

"Wait, is that... ?" Verschlengorge loomed above, its inquisitive face blocking out sun and sky.

His eyes opened blearily. "Hm?"

"A-ah! Sorry, never mind! It's not a big deal. I didn't see you were trying to sleep."

"Don't worry about it. More enemies?" He scanned the horizon swiftly, cloak swirling about as he began to rise.

"No, nothing like that. Go back to sleep! Hehe. Today it's my turn to guard both you and Miss Gisena!"

"Were you looking at my sword?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I-I was just surprised! Did you find a blacksmith or something?"

He called the Forebear's Blade to hand, the bright sharp shard of its silver blade now a full handspan longer than when he'd left. The sword was steadily replenishing itself, feeding ravenously from the energy of his triumph against Amarlt. By the evening he expected the entire weapon to be restored. That was truly a strange feeling. The last time it had been unbroken was when...

He closed his eye. No point in dwelling. "I slew a swordsman of considerable skill. I should have lost. He was better than me, but too straightforward."

"Aha! Your undead chimera powers are growing stronger. Now you've somehow gained the power of... having a full sword!"

"Terrifying, isn't it. A classic vampiric ability. Truthfully, this Blade is much diminished from what it once was. If it's replenished by this evening as I suspect, I'll be able to defend you much more effectively."

He remembered now, the heft, the mountainous solidity of the Blade in hand, the terrible crushing momentum of its stroke, the sharp bitter bite of its edge. The shadow of its passing was water made ice; pressed to the flesh, it was ice against marrow. The Forebear had been inevitability made manifest, an overlord so mighty he'd no need of cruelty.

He would need to restore his other arm. Two hands were needed to wield it properly.

"More power, huh? I hope you're not angling for a raise."

"Afraid? Does House Artriez lack confidence in the strength of its coffers?"

"A-as if! The Empire's going to pay you, so n-no need to worry about that!"

"Fiscal troubles? I'm planning to work as a mercenary. Help me advertise and I'll give you a cut."

"Are you sure? The name of Artriez does not come cheaply."

"I'm more interested in the name of Letrizia, the Armament pilot. Surely that commands value in military circles."

"Oh! Well, in that case... wait, you can't sweet-talk me into a lower rate! I would require at least fifty percent, and that's with docking Miss Gisena's pay. But don't worry, I'll give your promotion my utmost effort. You can count on me!"

"Thirty percent, final offer."

"Deal. Hehe, I was only aiming for thirty in the first place!"

"I know." He nodded to Gisena, leaning jauntily against the side of her tent with three fingers raised.

"Miss Gisena! You sold me out?!"

"Sure did, Zea! Now what's this about docking my pay?"

---

The winner was [X] Uttermost with [X] True Maiming. With his Ring's regeneration now active, Hunger can fight through the severe damage from maiming, though only in short bursts for the next three days. What now?

[ ] Visit the Encampment - Once Gisena is finished with her meditations and the Forebear's Blade finishes its regeneration, visit the Encampment, allowing her to take point on social interactions. The potential benefits are vast, but some degree of risk is still present. There's much to do, though the mercenaries present may not offer as much comparative value as they once did.
-[ ] Visit the Official Fishing Contest [+1 Arete, +progress towards next +1 pick option] - Fight hard. Fish harder.
-[ ] Do Not Visit the Fishing Contest - The temptation is too great. Discipline must prevail.

[ ] Slack Off - It feels unnatural, but perhaps the best option is to focus intensely on rest and recuperation. In this as in all things, execution makes the result.

+??

[ ] Heal Verschlengorge - Though physical activity strains you, once you're rested there's nothing stopping you from using the Ring of Blood. Work with Letrizia in an attempt to restore Verschlengorge's power, at least in part. Perhaps you can pick up some marginal improvements from the stronger monsters it attracts.

[ ] Vacation - You don't want to go to the Encampment, but it would be nice to partake in civilization somewhere. Heal Verschlengorge with a focus on its navigational abilities and look for something fun and relatively safe. While you are determined to free the Imprisoned Ring, in your current state there simply isn't much that can be done for it.

*Consumes more time than the other options
*+Gisena, +Letrizia
*Gain +0.5 Arete, inane tasks sidequests

---

You've received 1 pick from the Outriders slain after Vanreir. Your choice here may influence the result of the action taken above. You have 4.3 Arete.

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Echo of the Forebear - Cloud-shadow of the Forebear's might.
Legendary strength and speed, and the resilience to exert them. Can be taken multiple times. [+Might, +Agility]

[ ] The Ring of Power - Dominion - 2 Arete
A ring of power does not exert influence casually. It has its own will, its own preferences, and if that will should be inseparable from its owner's, its sway thereby shall be greater for it.

Select a domain of influence. While acting within its domain, [Ring of Power] effects are substantially less taxing and more potent; the effects of this can be abstracted as follows: treat the owner's Rank as if it somewhat* higher for related actions. You may select this advancement multiple times, choosing a different domain each time. If multiple domains apply, their bonuses do not compound.

*+0.5 if Low, +.25 if Mid, +.1 if High.

The available domains for Hunger are: War, Passion

[ ] Fierce Quickening - The absurd violence of Blood unleashed. Let all that falls within its dominion be spilled, if it be in service to the Ringbearer. Adds [++Agility, +Wits] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Vigor Itself - The primordial might and glory of Blood resplendent. Let all who witness its form tremble, and be subject. Adds [++Might, +Charisma] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Augment Dominion: Blood - The world-wielding will of the Ring.
Treat the wielder's Rank as if it were (.5 Low/.25 Medium/.1 High) higher for purposes of the [Ring of Power] effect applied to the Blood domain, increasing its potency and versatility. Repeatable, but costs 1 more pick each time.

[ ] Evening Sky - Opalescence - The soft light of evening before which all attacks falter.
Improves defensive parameters. [+Protection]

[ ] Evening Sky - Iridescence - 2 Arete - The sharp light of the stars before which all malice is lessened.
+Protection, +Charisma. Expands the range of effects subject to the Evening Sky, allowing it to passively weaken almost all forms of magic. Even Nullity itself can be once withstood before the Sky recedes.

[ ] Exalted Spirit - 2 Arete. Conjunctional [Hunger, Evening Sky]. Mind made vigorous as the body. Gain +Int, +Wits, +Wis, +Cha, -Heartlessness, while in a form with physical blood. Allies under blood enhancement gain +Int, +Cha. Blood enhancement requires physical blood.

[ ] Null Slice - 7 Arete. Conjunctional [Hunger, Gisena]. ++Wits, ++AGI. Severs a conceptual aspect from the target. Resistable. More abstract and difficult concepts are much harder to strike and may induce Tiredness or Exhaustion in the attempt. While this offers minimal power now, it can potentially lead to a wide variety of applications with time and training. Discounts either [Once and Future] or [Cut Through] by 2 Arete.

 

[Rihaku]

Thunder of Blood

After dinner concluded (the soup was delicious), Hunger stalked over to the Armament, Ring brimming with light. Slowly he ran his hand against the monstrosity's right shoulder-face, which in power-conserving mode slept ceaselessly through night and day. Verschlengorge's main head flicked open an eye, staring down with benevolent menace. It had a certain facility for making the most threatening expressions feel protective.

"He's not a dog, you know!" Letrizia came around his side, hands folded behind her. Her hair had, oddly, reverted to its natural shade. "You don't need to pet him to make him work!"

"Is that what dogs are to you? Just workers?"

"Huh?" She turned to face him, eyes wide. "Aren't they used in low-technology worlds to detect contraband?"

"On Earth we kept them as pets. On my second world as well. Hmph. I say 'we,' but I don't think I ever had one. Civilization, human society did."

"Ah. I think most people these days use synthoids or virtual pets. Natural-born pets can't compete with their cuteness! Plus, it's less cruel than keeping natural organisms in a human-optimized environment. No need to forcibly neuter them in order to control the population."

"...Are you looking down on my barbaric ways?"

"Well, you're a product of your times. I suppose it's forgivable."

"Or perhaps, somewhere along the line your civilization lost its way. Speaking of which, I'm trying to fix Verschlengorge's navigational system. You said it's Foremost technology, so it should be in its biologicals, correct?"

"Probably..." She leaned forward sternly. "Though I'm beginning to wonder if it's simply a function of his Rank. You're naturally able to navigate the Voyaging Realm yourself."

"May be. Still, four heads are better than one."

He began to circulate the equivalent of blood throughout the dizzyingly complex edifice beneath the Armament's skin. The head beneath his palm grunted discontentedly, shifting in its sleep.

Ereadhihr. The Elder Implement. Though it had existed for eons of war, there was not so much as a scar or imperfection within the fantastically dense bio-circuitry of the Armament's body. Physical wounds existed, but what had healed had done so perfectly. Still, in some grimly intangible way he felt the weight of those eons as he communed with the creature, a legacy of savagery a billion times repeated, vigor and sheer heedless fury, the all-consuming urge to devour. So deep was the catalogue of its experiences that they'd been imprinted on its spiritual marrow, its very essence.

The Armament was no human veteran, whom war ground down to make hard and hollow. It was a being axiomatically designed for its purpose, and looked forward to battle and consumption with the invincible eagerness of deep instinct. To wade into chaos alongside its operator was its mission and inexhaustible purpose.

It could comprehend human minds, even feel compassion for their weakness and frailty, but that did not change the fundamental structure of its mind. A man could comprehend a beast, even feel pity for its misguided antics, without adopting the beast's values. So too with the Armament and its mortal operators. It was loyal to its pilot, and to its bonded Cursebearer, but understood that their minds were fundamentally alien to it.

It that sense it was not so different from the Forebear's Blade, or, presumably, even the synthoid pets Letrizia had commented upon. A tool created to fulfill a goal. He wondered what it was like, to enter the world with such unshakeable purpose.

The Armament's blood sang with amusement. It shifted its currents and eddies, directing circulation to a specific lobe within its primary head. Was that the navigational system he sought? He found that the structure of the lobe was oddly self-evident, as if its three-dimensional shape were itself a glyph in some instinctual Cursebearer language. It was a focusing organ for the application of Astral Rank towards spatial perception and manipulation. Not simply a tool for traversing the Voyaging Realm, but for positioning in spacetime as a whole.

He saw, too, that while the power of Blood could restore some functionality to the organ, there were hard limits to the work he could do without a much higher Rank. Technique alone was insufficient.

"The power of the Ring can repair some of it, but many capabilities remain locked," he said, frowning. "Still, we should be able to get around faster now. I'm curious how your technicians repair these organs. They seem to be well beyond the limits of human technology."

Letrizia shrugged. "I think they use serums harvested from high-level Astral Beasts. For best efficiency, they have to be specially processed with Foremost artifacts. Verschlengorge can regenerate from eating enemies as well, but his effective Rank's too low to use that function right now."

He frowned. "Why is it that physical wounds can reduce its Rank at all? Typically you would need specialized attacks to do something like that. I could lose half my body and my Pressure would remain unaffected."

"Your guess is as good as mine! When he's at full strength, most injuries don't weaken his Pressure by much. But if you hurt him enough, I think he begins ablating Rank to preserve his fundamental structure. Unlike you, the Armament's not a complete person by itself. It was designed with a pilot in mind. Its astral shadow only exists because of its physical body, but it may be that high-grade Foremost technology can't exist in the physical world without some degree of support from Pressure. Kind of like how a black hole can't exist below a certain level of mass density. Since the two are co-dependent, it may have to sacrifice one side to shore up the other if catastrophic damage is taken."

"How knowledgeable for a mere hobbyist."

"Hehe. It's important to be informed of things like this when you're entrusting your life to the device."

"How serious. You need a vacation."

"Hm? Not planning to head into the Temple tomorrow?"

"I can't, not in this state. I'll need a few days to integrate my new powers and see if I can fix my liver. This latest enemy gave me a lot of 'digest.' "

"You and Verschlengorge really are two peas in a pod. This swordsman seems to have made an impression on you. You don't usually talk about your foes."

"His name was Vanreir Amarlt. I had the sense he was fighting to protect someone dear to him. Most of the outriders carry more mercenary objectives."

"Amarlt?! Huh, to think some of them landed around here."

"Hm?"

"They used to be a big deal in the Republic. The Republic makes a fuss about not recognizing noble titles, but they're an oligarchy whose upper ranks are still filled with the high nobility. The Amarlt family used to command Procyon, the Plenary Armament, but fell from power a few centuries ago. Procyon's actually stationed here in the Voyaging Realm right now!" She went quiet, perhaps remembering that the pilot - likely a friend - could well have betrayed her.

He coughed. "No match for you, I take it."

"Of course not! ...So, why've you decided you need a vacation?"

"I'd like to see the sights now that we're here," he deadpanned. "We're planning to overthrow their civilization, that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves in the vicinity. And now that your Armament's spatial organ is fixed, we can do just that. Anything in particular you'd like to do?"

"It'd be nice if we could recruit some mages... dangerous, though. I'd love to see some of the more exotic parts of the Voyaging Realm! The farmlands we passed through on our way here were beautiful, but a bit plain."

"How does that work, exactly? I'm surprised your civilization hasn't made a concerted effort to extract every mage they can from this place, especially if you don't have native magicians."

"Ah, well... it was tried. The Voyaging Realm will tolerate some level of exploitation, but industrial-scale extraction of magics leads it to act out in increasingly apocalyptic ways... these days we're mostly limited to those mages that find their way to our City, and even then half the magics only work inside the Realm itself. There are unsanctioned efforts to extract more, the Republic especially deploys strike teams for that purpose, but the casualty rates are horrific. It's frequently a death sentence even if you succeed."

"Let's hope you aren't doomed for bringing two such mages outside the Realm, then. Gisena's findross is self-contained, so she should be alright. As for me..."

"You shouldn't even qualify, Lord Hunger! You only have an unusually high Astral Rank, which the Foremost themselves were theorized to exhibit in select individuals. That's hardly magecraft. And, while you're able to efficiently channel that Rank through your artifacts in unusually reliable ways, in principle that's no different from an Armament's Shroud-derived unique abilities."

"Why do I feel vaguely insulted? And just 'Hunger' is fine, Letrizia, we've talked about this."

"Hey, the path of magecraft is not for everyone! Wouldn't it interfere with your teamwork alongside Miss Gisena?"

"Just you wait. And here I was going to teach you magic once I'd acquired some."

"W-who'd want to learn magic from you? I'd much prefer Miss Gisena as a teacher."

"Good, that's one thing taken care of. We set out first thing in the morning."

"Hmph. I'll become the best sorcerous apprentice ever! That'll show you!"

"Yes, show me up. We could use the firepower."

---

The winners are [X] Vigor Itself and [X] Vacation. How well could Hunger heal Verschlengorge via its circulatory system alone?

[ ] To Rank 4.5

50% chance of basic encounters
50% chance of modestly productive encounters

[ ] To Rank 5.25 - Req. 2 Arete

50% chance of productive encounters
30% chance of moderately challenging encounters
20% chance of significantly challenging encounters

[ ] To Rank 5.75 - Req. 2 Arete, -1 future pick

50% chance of moderately challenging encounters
30% chance of significantly challenging encounters
10% chance of overwhelming dangerous encounters
10% chance of major bonus (worth ~2 Arete)

Higher Ranks mean quicker travel time, stronger Astral Beasts and a more useful mech overall. Rank >5 enables Totality control method and potential access to more information.

---

What did they encounter on their attempted scenic escapade?

[ ] A Besieged Colony - This group of Imperial separatists, wishing to establish a colony in the Voyaging Realm for reasons of liberty and the likely vain hope of access to magic, founded a flourishing resort enclave around a natural hot springs. Carving out a space for themselves via plasma-fire and Armor Prototype, they've managed to survive for a few decades in this sometimes-harsh and often shifting land. Miraculously, magic has appeared among the new generation of children born in the Voyaging Realm, but alongside it a shadow has fallen over their colony, the titanic Rotbeast whose army of cadaverous spawn lays unending siege to their once-beautiful community.

*Encounter Difficulty: Moderate (if fighting spawn), Somewhat High (if directly attacking Rotbeast)
*Access to ruggedized Imperial Tech (moderately useful to Gisena and Letrizia, mostly useless for you), potential access to spellcasters, access to Elixir Springs.
*Elixir Springs: 70% chance of curing one Condition, 30% chance of curing two.
*~15% independent chance of a major bonus

[ ] A Wandering Magus - Something of a rarity, a lone wandering magician with which you've crossed paths. Enigmatic but cheerful, she's traveling to the Temple to investigate the death of her big sister, whom her prognostications say has departed this mortal coil. Her powers of divination are substantial, but her combat strength is lacking, or so she claims. She'll happily join you and help you breach the Temple if you assist in her investigations.

*Diplomatic Difficulty: Low, but Tyrant Proc possible (10-30%)
*Combat Difficulty: ???
*Foresight: Halves travel times, improves encounter effectiveness by 10-20% in all but a few scenarios. Will help you find an ideal vacation spot!
*Oracular Secrets: She may be willing to divest the techniques behind her lore-based magic, for a price. Goods of sufficient quantity and quality would suffice, or a period of contractual service.

[ ] A Republic Kill-Team - Surely this could only be a coincidence. Just as you and Letrizia were discussing the black ops extraction teams of the Republic, you encounter a badly ravaged force limping alongside the road, their Armor Prototypes charred and smoking from some recently unpleasant encounter. Wounded, weary, and far from resupply, nonetheless these represent very nearly the cutting-edge of human-scale combat capability in the Sphere. It would be unwise to provoke them.

*Diplomatic Difficulty: Medium, but Tyrant proc possible (10-20%)
*Combat Difficulty: Extreme. The group contains experimental-grade Armor Prototypes with effective Combat Rank 6.5, outfitted with bleeding-edge Astraltech augs and the finest armor-portable weaponry that modern science can produce. Crippled as they are, they would still be a formidable opponent... or irreplaceable ally.
*Bitchin': Hunger thinks these powered armors are cool and is more likely to enter negotiations with an amiable disposition. Letrizia remarks that Empire designs are cooler.
*Custody: The Kill-Team is "escorting" a hermetically sealed cocoon within which a magic user resides, "for their own protection."
*Aftermath: You're pretty sure operators like this come with nondisclosure warrants. Though you may work together for a time, they may turn their guns on you after the city is in sight, though Letrizia's not sure they would actually attack an Armament pilot...

Thread participation has yielded a substantial bonus:

[ ] +1 pick at next spending point
[ ] 1 re-roll to be used on checks this update
[ ] +1 Arete, -10% Tyrant proc chance this update

 

[Rihaku]

Impunity

They set out on vacation, at last departing the barren wastelands of the Temple exterior in search of a place to recuperate and unwind. With Gisena still meditating in Verschlengorge's cockpit, it was up to Hunger to man the Armament's shoulders and keep a lookout for incoming Astral denizens. Though Verschlengorge was considerably more powerful than it had been, still it was too wounded to be a match for Hunger himself, and that showed in the strength of its Astral beacon. Assaulted by mediocre monstrosities, Hunger did not so much as exert himself on the first day of the trip, each incoming wave dispatched before it had finished emerging from its portal.

It was curious that the Astral invaders were never dispirited by failure, their resolve apparently unbreakable. Though the beasts clearly weren't mindless, they attacked with suicidal vigor, even into so utterly hopeless a situation as this. Perhaps they weren't cognizant of the fact that Verschlengorge had bodyguards at all.

He wondered what dynamics governed the process of their attraction to the Armament, subsequent organization and transport to the physical realm. If Verschlengorge's Astral Beacon did not advertise the existence of any being around it, then he could understand their obliviousness at the presence of a bodyguard. If its presence was fundamentally antithetical to the values of the Astral beings, that would justify their heedless courage.

Was there some way to exploit this? Could he incrementally increase his own power by slowly healing Verschlengorge and ambushing the steadily stronger creatures that came for it? Possibly, though the method was somewhat unreliable and slow. The former was tolerable, the latter potentially disqualifying. At all times the Apocryphal Curse loomed over them; speed of growth was critical to outpacing its relentless escalation.

Live, and grow strong. The very act of the former would necessitate the latter. In that sense it was a convenient yoke, one that impelled him ruthlessly towards his ultimate goal: vengeance against beings whose power was too great for his current mind even to fathom.

Cutting through another group of Astral invaders, Hunger frowned. There was some disquieting symmetry to the whole situation. The invaders were driven by an inescapable need to destroy Verschlengorge and were blind to the strength of its defender. Was that not an uncanny mirror of his own situation with the Imprisoned Ring? He too was compelled to reach it, and similarly ignorant of its ultimate guardians. Was it even possible for him to prevail here, when the Temple had stood unconquered for millennia before? What if its final defender was simply so powerful that no amount of strength accumulated against its lessers would suffice to challenge it? He himself was the same to these beasts.

A simple massive discontinuity in combat strength would serve as a hard deterrent against invaders like himself or Ber, whose growth was rapid but fundamentally incremental in nature. A meta-contextual moat of sheer ability. The torment of the Ring was nearly unbearable, but even more unbearable was the prospect that he could fail.

And yet the prospect of unnecessary delay filled him with contempt. They who only challenged foes that were unquestionably weaker had discarded the most crucial strength of all. Stagnation of the self, a slow diminishing of the vital spirit, was their inescapable fate, for in their hearts they knew themselves to be cowards.

"Doing some meditation of your own?" Letrizia asked. Verschlengorge's primary eyes turned in his direction, shimmering gold with fleeting specks of blue.

"Was it that obvious?" He propped the Forebear's Blade against a gun turret and rose to meet her gaze.

"It's good to be self-absorbed once in a while, but you can brood when we're not on vacation. Just take a look at this scenery!"

The Armament strode through high, sheer canyons of water-sluiced stone, rock of pale violet and ochre that gave way to densely-packed layers of compressed crystal, glittering like stained glass beneath the desert sun. The pulverized dust of stone and crystal formed great sloping lines through the ancient riverbed, sharp color against the stark barrens, the fingerpaint trail of some primordial colossus whose knuckles were the mountain-range, its glacier-sheets his nails.

He nodded. "It's pleasant. Shall we stop for lunch?"

"Hehe. You said it, not me!"

"The words of a woman on the precipice of an eating disorder."

Spread out on Letrizia's blue and white picnic blanket, they encamped for lunch with a few of her declining stock of genuine sandwiches. She also produced a clear yellow powder that, when poured into water, resulted in a pitcher's worth of fresh lemonade.

"Verschlengorge's refrigerator is almost empty," Letrizia remarked glumly, pitifully but dutifully enjoying her share.

He closed his eyes. "I was going to surprise you, but I ordered some specialty meats from a group of merchants I met in the Outer Temple. When we return, we'll pick them up."

"Really!?" She perked up. "You're the best!"

She leapt towards him, tightly hugging his neck. "I take back all the bad things I said about you! This is wonderful! You're the best bodyguard ever!"

He patted her head fondly. "I was right. You do have an eating disorder."

"But you've never seen an eating disorder this cute!" Gisena was perched dangerously on the canyon's edge, legs swinging freely. "Too bad, if only I had some way to capture this moment forever..."

"I don't care what you say. Nothing can make me unhappy right now." Humming merrily to herself, Letrizia returned to consuming her sandwich, now with ravenous, uninhibited bites.

"Were you always like this, or did piloting Verschlengorge make you this way..."

Their idyllic repast was interrupted, however, by the appearance of a matte-gray flying vehicle overhead. He frowned. Its angular lines were almost reminiscent of Verschlengorge's own armor...

Gisena oohed appreciatively as it made a perfectly vertical descent to land near the lip of the canyon. Armored figures emerged swiftly, carrying lean, mechanized rifles alongside torso-length polarized shields.

"What the..." Letrizia frowned. "That's Empire military surplus. Who are these guys?"

"Stay behind me." Hunger rose, Evening Sky a cloud of menace behind him.

One of the more finely-maintained armors approached, gun slung towards the ground. "You there! Who are you, and what are your intentions towards the Elixir Sovereignty?"

"Elixir Sovereignty?" Letrizia raised a mildly amused eyebrow, looking as if she were restraining a laugh.

"We don't have any intentions for you," Hunger said plainly. "You came to us."

"You are impinging on our northeast border," the armored figure replied. "With what appears to be a Imperial Armament. I apologize if we overreacted, but we came to the Voyaging Realm to break free of the Empire's reins. Even if you possess an Armament, if you seek to deprive us of our liberty, know that we will resist your incursion to the last."

"Your border means nothing to me," Hunger shrugged. "But I have no intention of killing you unless attacked."

"Hmph. These guys must have made it deep into the Voyaging Realm before I was stationed here. I've never even heard of them." Letrizia frowned. "Separatists. I'm surprised they're still alive."

"Enemies of yours?" Hunger asked, idly spinning the Blade.

She shook her head. "Not really. Technically I guess they're traitors to the crown, but they're harmless enough. Maybe we can trade with them? Could be a trial run for your mercenary work in the future."

"I see. Probably best for you two to negotiate, then. I'll stand behind you and look menacing."

"Of course, that's a bodyguard's job, after all."

Gisena walked over to the armors, disarmingly beautiful, the picture of wide-eyed naïveté. "Oh my, such miraculous devices! Excuse me, do you mind if I take a look? What an incredible rifle! I've used kinetic sidearms before, but this one appears to be plasma-powered. It must be tremendously more effective. May I see it? It's just that I've never encountered such advanced technology before in my life..."

Hunger blinked. He'd expected one of her usual ploys, but no. She really was just enthusiastically studying their machines.

---

What's Letrizia's primary objective?

[ ] Hot Springs And Go - Trade the pearl for two nights' of suites at their premier hot springs resort. Comes with all-you-can-eat room service. [+.75 Arete, 70% Condition Healing, 30% Double Healing]

[ ] Lift the Siege - Semi-treasonous or not, these were still her fellow countrymen. As they are beset by a zombie-monster apocalypse, bred by some sort of super undead, it's only fair that her super-juggernaut undead chimera show it who's boss. Lord Hunger is always on about needing worthy opponents to grow stronger, anyway. The separatists, overjoyed with her magnanimous intercession, will gift the party with hot-springs vouchers for life and all the gourmet food and military surplus hardware that the girls could ask for. [Fight the Rotbeast. Worth 3 picks and Premium Vacation at the resort if you prevail.]

[ ] Investigate the Schools - There had to be a reason Verschlengorge brought them here, and through her connection with the Armament she felt it lay among the peers of her age group. Evasive as the separatists have been, still they would not keep her from the truth. She was Verschlengorge's pilot, who had devoured system-spanning fleets and withstood supernovas, who had trawled the Astral nebulae and conquered their Sovereigns and stood astride the hungry dark of a naked singularity. Even that invincible specimen of common matter had quailed before the greater devourer then. What was a... high school... to the likes of her?! [If successful, gain access to the magic system of those born within the Elixir Springs. You can still visit the Hot Springs later.]

---

You have about 9.5 Arete. You've received 1 pick from slaying the monsters attracted by Rank 4.5 Verschlengorge. Alas, they were simply no match for a blade infused with uttermost strength.

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Echo of the Forebear - Cloud-shadow of the Forebear's might.
Legendary strength and speed, and the resilience to exert them. Can be taken multiple times. [+Might, +Agility]

[ ] The Ring of Power - Dominion - 2 Arete
A ring of power does not exert influence casually. It has its own will, its own preferences, and if that will should be inseparable from its owner's, its sway thereby shall be greater for it.

Select a domain of influence. While acting within its domain, [Ring of Power] effects are substantially less taxing and more potent; the effects of this can be abstracted as follows: treat the owner's Rank as if it somewhat* higher for related actions. You may select this advancement multiple times, choosing a different domain each time. If multiple domains apply, their bonuses do not compound.

*+0.5 if Low, +.25 if Mid, +.1 if High.

The available domains for Hunger are: War, Passion

[ ] Fierce Quickening - The absurd violence of Blood unleashed. Let all that falls within its dominion be spilled, if it be in service to the Ringbearer. Adds [++Agility, +Wits] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Vigor Itself - The primordial might and glory of Blood resplendent. Let all who witness its form tremble, and be subject. Adds [++Might, +Charisma] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Augment Dominion: Blood - The world-wielding will of the Ring.
Treat the wielder's Rank as if it were (.5 Low/.25 Medium/.1 High) higher for purposes of the [Ring of Power] effect applied to the Blood domain, increasing its potency and versatility. Repeatable, but costs 1 more pick each time.

[ ] Evening Sky - Opalescence - The soft light of evening before which all attacks falter.
Improves defensive parameters. [+Protection]

[ ] Evening Sky - Iridescence - 2 Arete - The sharp light of the stars before which all malice is lessened.
+Protection, +Charisma. Expands the range of effects subject to the Evening Sky, allowing it to passively weaken almost all forms of magic. Even Nullity itself can be once withstood before the Sky recedes.

[ ] Exalted Spirit - 2 Arete. Conjunctional [Hunger, Evening Sky]. Mind made vigorous as the body. Gain +Int, +Wits, +Wis, +Cha, -Heartlessness, while in a form with physical blood. Allies under blood enhancement gain +Int, +Cha. Blood enhancement requires physical blood.

[ ] Slice Fate - 7 Arete. Conjunctional [Forebear's Blade, Letrizia]. By unity with thy implement, cast off the chains of Fate and seize destiny with thine own two hands. +1 re-roll per 24 hours for Hunger. Enables Letrizia to become [The Devouring Sorceress]. ++Letrizia, +Gisena.

---

As promised, blurbs for the two winning 25 Arete options:

[ ] Super Juggernaut Undead Chimera - 25 Arete

Defining Advancement. If chosen, you may have no more than five Defining Advancements.

Super Juggernaut - The character may manifest an Armament Shroud even if they are not Rank 9+. His Pressure has no influence outside the Shroud. Within the radius of the Shroud, the character's effective Pressure is massively intensified, massively increasing the difficulty of opposition to him and allowing for the manifestation of character-unique effects.

If the character is already Rank 9+, halve the effects of Tiredness and Exhaustion on him and double his Shroud's effective radius and any numerical values in his Shroud effects. Manifesting a Shroud is taxing to the will.

Undead Chimera - Gain the memetic benefits of undeath without the penalties. Immune to most poisons and diseases, not hampered by the loss of most internal organs, no need to eat, breathe, drink or sleep. For each type of undead the character can be said to represent (no more than five), choose one Attribute to apply a +100% bonus to, or increase his current Rank by 10%. Attribute bonuses affect present and future levels. You may stack choices, but each consecutive stack reduces the value by half. Thus, choosing AGI twice yields +150% AGI, and choosing Rank twice yields +15% Rank.

[ ] Cut Through - 25 Arete

Add the character's Willpower to his effective Might and Agility. Elevate the character's sword techniques by one step along the Infinite Singularity Husk.

The character may develop a set of techniques that are equivalent to those of the Sword Praxis, that sliver of the Royal Praxis focused on techniques of the blade. If a Cursebearer, the character may eventually develop techniques equivalent to the Imperial Sword Praxis instead. Naturally, almost any conceivable effect can eventually be realized even through the medium of swordplay, if one's canvas is the Imperial Praxis itself, though the strengths and weaknesses of the Praxis continue to apply.

---

I'm planning to launch the Patreon in the next couple of days. Please wait warmly for it. My hope is to have bonus content already prepared upon launch, which has been tough with a daily update schedule! Would there also be interest in a Discord server?

 

[Rihaku]

The winning vote was [X] Investigate the School with [X] Fierce Quickening. You now have 17.7 Arete.

What was Hunger doing while Letrizia went 'undercover' on her self-appointed mission? Choose 2.

[ ] Studying the Blade - While they ranted about the shackles of Imperial representation, he studied the Blade. While she participated in frivolous antics, he studied the Blade. And now that the rot spawn are at the gates, they turn to him for help?

Well, fine. But it'll cost 'em.

*Hunger fights the Rotspawn, the semi-undead army created by the Rotbeast, greatly relieving pressure on the town's defenders for a bit. He may encounter either mundane Rotspawn, Elite Rotspawn, or Primary Rotspawn.
*The vast majority of Rotspawn are mundane, but by presenting such an overwhelming threat, it's likely Hunger will force out more powerful specimens.
*50% chance of +1 pick
*35% chance of +2 picks
*15% chance of +2 picks, +.5 Arete, +1 major complication
*You may choose to 'target' a specific type of Rotspawn, greatly increasing encounter chances, by reaching a consensus on discussion of which to target and directing discussion and omake power towards it. You'll still get Arete for those omakes.
*Improves your value in the eyes of the townsfolk, reducing the penalties of any Tyrant proc.

[ ] Pursuing Technological Solutions - While they don't have anywhere near the facilities appropriate for properly maintaining an Armament, the Elixir Sovereignty is still a functioning small-scale technological civilization with sufficient industrial base (mostly automated) to produce outdated Imperial technology. This should really be Letrizia's job, but with her occupied on her mission it falls to Hunger and Gisena to procure repairs for Verschlengorge's armor and hydraulics, as well as re-stock its supply of missiles and kinetic ammunition.

*Improves Verschlengorge's combat capability without increasing its Rank, making it more self-sufficient and relevant in battle
*+Gisena, Gisena weaponry upgrade
*+Letrizia
*+1 day consumed; repairs take time

[ ] Relaxing at the Hot Springs - This is supposed to be a vacation, and that means only one thing: the absolute bliss of a worry-free existence at the Elixir Springs! Tomorrow there may be travail and fearsome tribulation, but today there is only the healing power of the geothermally-heated waters!

*+Gisena
*+10% healing chance, +10% Double Healing chance
*Pillars of Creation** is unlocked and can be purchased during any reasonably plausible Experience spend point for 1 pick, 25 Arete.
*Pillars of Creation is extremely powerful utility, offering Curse Mitigation, powerful buffs, and level-appropriate enemies in a reasonably safe environment. It would be extremely useful in the mid to late game.

[ ] Bloodwraith [2 Arete] - There must be a way to overcome the limitations of the spirit form. Its lack of blood renders it an underwhelming combatant compared to Hunger's fleshly body, and given his reliance on it in the past that cannot be allowed. The purview of Progression is the achievement of any feat, no matter how impossible it may seem. Now that he has time to slow down and actually think, might he discover some way of overcoming this weakness? Perhaps the answer lies in Verschlengorge's blood, for, as Letrizia mentioned, its body is spirit and flesh united, a thing not entirely of the physical world. With a sufficiently large sample and diligent experimentation, perhaps he could selectively enhance specific attributes of his own blood such that it could be retained in ghostly form?

*Doom of the Tyrant: Hunger will extract large quantities of Verschlengorge's blood for his experiments without even thinking to ask Letrizia, weakening its Astral Rank to 4. After all, he's its bonded Cursebearer, a position both he and Verschlengorge know is above that of its pilot!
*--Letrizia, -1 future pick
*Hunger's Second Stage is now treated as having corporeal blood for all purposes. It benefits from Quickening, regenerates via the Ring of Blood, and so on. Not only does this double your effective HP, it also allows you to make use of Quickening's benefits alongside the phasing and increased speed of the Second Stage!

[ ] Market Day [2 Arete] - It's been a long time since he's commingled with the common people as anything but their forlorn champion. Though he's never been much a proponent of enjoying 'normalcy' for its own sake, there is something to be said for walking through civilization with the relative anonymity of the unknown. Though it's somewhat risky given the Tyrant's Doom, there's hardly a safer place than this to learn how to manage it, inasmuch as that is possible at all.

*Extensive practice under potentially risky circumstances yields one purchase of Vigor Itself [++Might, +Cha]
*Gain some potentially priceless experience with the Doom of the Tyrant in a relatively controlled scenario, allowing Hunger to better plan around it when engaging with civilization in the future.

**[Pillars of Creation] - 25 Arete. At the end of each lunar month, wearer and companions may steal away to the realm of Evening, during which no time passes in the mortal world. Divine opulence and every conceivable luxury await the fortunate interlopers, restoring wholeness of mind, body, and spirit.

The realm of Evening responds to the desires of the wearer and can be shaped to induce a variety of effects at nigh-deific scale - worthy enemies, fields of unique reagents, anagathic peaches, arms and armor of myth. Only one rule is absolute: that each stay lasts seven days, no more and no less. Items typically cannot be carried out, though the effects of items consumed within the realm remain after departing it.

All Curses save the Geas of Indenture are only at one-third severity within the realm, though this does not stack with other forms of mitigation, nor impede their function outside.

---

What type of magic did Letrizia discover at the Elixir Springs Prefectural High School?

[ ] Vertex - The design and construction of semi-autonomous magical Vertices, points of power that can be used by anyone initiated into the art. Inset into equipment or orbiting their wielder, these points of light can produce a number of functions so long as they are not destroyed: acting as smart- or dumbfire elemental drones, passively augmenting the Attributes or other aspects of their wielder, ablatively interposing themselves before enemy attacks, and so on. Raw power, complexity of Vertex effects, and intelligence of active Vertices are all determined by separate combinations of skill and Attribute, as well as other factors. For example, the raw power of high-tier effects is influenced in large part by the amount of lifespan the crafter shears away in the process of its creation.

*Can be destroyed by Nullity
*Hunger and Letrizia can theoretically learn to wield and create Vertices, though it's a demanding and time-consuming field, and Hunger would require either picks or Arete to overcome the requirement that one be initiated in one's youth, before the age of twenty-one. You may also buy Vertices even if you don't spend any effort making them yourself, though you'll need something to carry them in.
*The Evening Sky can serve as a natural carrier of Vertices.

[ ] Surgecraft - A seemingly simplistic but bizarrely powerful art by which its practitioners manifest and control vast quantities of a personal Imaginary Element. These range from the mostly physical (Ironflame, with the stability and density of steel but the heat and mobility of fire) to the highly conceptual (Fellspite, a slow but all-corroding mist that induces hatred and despair in those it touches; Fullmight, which simply amplifies the raw power of anything to which it's applied). Even the weakest Surgecrafter can unleash walls and torrents of their element sufficient to annihilate a large building, but control comes slowly and unsteadily for them, if at all. One can imagine the instability of a society populated by such mages.

*Hunger and Letrizia can theoretically learn Surgecraft, though blood manipulation will be needed for Letrizia to acquire it.
*The quality of Hunger's Imaginary Element, should he decide to pursue this route, will depend in part on Arete spent.
*Though none have accomplished it so far, it's relatively easy for experienced Surgecraft practitioners to unleash blasts of their Element that would be relevant on national, planetary, or even interstellar scales. Simple power is something that it develops easily.
*A Surgecrafter's strength in a given moment depends highly on their emotional context, personal circumstances, momentum of the battle and so on. It is at its heart a spontaneous art that disdains preparation.

 

[Rihaku]

Accursed Implement

Letrizia had decided she was going on a self-proclaimed 'undercover' mission to investigate colony's magic, while Gisena was happily examining each and every technological advancement Human Civilization had made since the Renaissance. While they did so, he studied the blade.

The power of his ring hampered low-stakes training while enormously amplifying improvements made in actual conflict, so naturally he asked the soldiers if there was any mercenary work available.

"Well yeah, we've got Rotspawn coming in every day of the year. It's not totally out of control, but we've been losing ground week by week." The man looked warily at his sword and cloak. "If you're some sort of... sword-based wizard, we could probably use your help."

"I'm not cheap," Hunger warned, "And I don't work well with others. Don't expect me to integrate into your command structure."

"That's all acceptable," the officer said, "We just care that Rotspawn are destroyed. If you're willing and able to deal with the Rotbeast itself, that would be even more ideal. We can pay in goods and services, or precious metals at a 20% discount."

He tapped a device on his wrist and small leaflet printed from the VTOL's side cabin. "Here, these are the rates we pay to all wandering mercenaries. On the back you'll find a map of the region. We're here, at the border, and the Rotbeast's invasion is alongside this other border, here, with enemy territory beyond. This mountain-range shaped area is the actual Rotbeast."

"Fine. I just need to bring back proof of my kills?"

"That's right. Scalps for ordinary spawn, while Elite and Primary Spawn have cores made of golden crystal. Those are a bit easier to transport."

"Sounds simple enough."

The contested border was well to the opposite side of Sovereignty land, a semi-mountainous region of rocky hills that sloped downwards into an immense swampy forest. It was from that direction that the Rotspawn invasion occurred, a steady flow of weaker beasts intermittently disrupted by the emergence of an Elite. Elixir troops had access to decades-old Imperial surplus, but it was all decommissioned gear, meant to be sold to civilian organizations. They could maintain what they'd purchased, manufacturing munitions to a limited extent, but outright replacement of high-grade gear like Armor Prototypes was beyond them.

The front line was a series of heavily fortified trenches 'manned' by automated turrets and anchored by mid-sized Armor Prototypes. From Letrizia's earlier remarks, Hunger had gathered that unmanned autonomous craft like bomber drones were adequate for weaker foes, but severely underperformed against peer-level enemies due to a lack of Astral Rank. Though their weapons encampments were more than capable of raking the valley with plasma fire, any group of Elite Rotspawn risked breaching the lines with their focused Pressure.

For the most part, the Rotspawn were a ragged and motley lot, corpse-grey limbs twisted and disfigured by the necrotic force of their progenitor, each beast an unnerving medley of animal parts. Their jerky movements and eerie relentlessness made for a disquieting aura.

With the average Rotspawn weaker than Verschlengorge's usual attackers, Hunger was unconcerned by their numbers and took the time to experiment with his sword technique. He mimicked Amarlt's thrusting stance, attempting to capture the intangible purity of that unadorned thrust, but while his strength was more than sufficient to slay Rotspawn in this manner, no special insights came to him in the doing.

It was clear that there were horizons of swordplay far beyond his meagre achievements, and while Amarlt had possessed the soul-based magic of the Outriders, Hunger had the Forebear's Blade, which ought well be capable of surpassing anything the Outrider had done.

An enormous crustacean-like creature thundered abruptly out of the forest, its shell the deep blue of the far ocean, claws rending wood and steel with the schlick of scissors through paper-mache. Between its beady sapphire eyes was a jewel of brilliant gold, the only spot of aberration against a carapace fully blue.

Hunger leapt to its left flank, plunging his blade into that carapace, which folded like a punctured egg before him. With lightning speed it skittered and turned, but he was faster still, darting around to its other flank, dragging his blade to split it widthwise like an oyster. The power of Ruin tore branching seams out from the clean line of that wound, shell shriveling and flaking away all along its thorax.

The creature reared back as if to bellow, but he sprang towards its front, leaping onto the clacking claw-arm to strike directly at its core. As the jewel shattered the creature swiftly went inert, a golden mist like faerie dust spilling from the gem.

That was anticlimactic. He was not Vanreir, but the power of his blade sufficed to dispatch these things with a minimum of fuss. Shaking his head he plunged deeper into the valley, past the plasma-pocked slopes of the grassy hillside and into the territory of the Rotbeast proper. Down into the fetid mist he ran, past the cloying outer perimeter into the heart of the forest, where the ground was soft and putrid but the fog was thick as steel wool.

It pressed down upon him, a slightly damp heaviness, a noxious fullness in the lungs. Were he an ordinary man, movement would be impossible under such conditions, but his strength these past weeks had increased by great bounds, and it troubled him little. A pair of crossed slashes dispelled the fog around him, small tempest of wind carving a clearing in the mist. Creatures emerged from that pale soup of fog, half a dozen disjoint monstrosities each bearing a golden jewel upon their brow. Eagerly he set to work.

Their speed was explosive, their movements so erratic as to be unpredictable, but that mattered little against him. The complete Forebear's Blade could channel his techniques with perfect efficiency. The windup and exertion associated with his sevenfold strike were reduced to a minuscule fraction, so much so that he could apply the technique to every flick and lash of the blade.

Each humming blade-wind dispatched from its edge struck now with murderous force, a staggering crescent of sheer devastation that toppled the Rotspawn, power of Ruin tearing them limb from limb. And yet it was not enough. For all his terrifying speed and force, his was still not the equal of even Vanreir's technique, much less the power of the Forebear that lay slumbering within. What was he missing?

Hunger frowned. One hand was inadequate to the task of handling the restored Forebear's Blade, though its immense destructive force more than compensated for the slight unwieldiness. As he grew in strength, would his lack of limbs become a progressively greater limitation on his technique?

Dozens of Elites fell before a greater monster emerged, the fell wind of its Pressure forcing down his shoulders at its approach. The ground beneath him gave way, muck and grime hollowing out as if pressed by an industrial stamp. He leapt back, launching downward blade-winds to go airborne, but every movement felt stilted and slow in the grip of that Pressure, and he was not able to clear the fog as he would've liked.

It emerged at last from the mist, a golden-eyed creature whose skin was bleached pale, its face an uncanny mix of sublime and grotesque, fine-angled bones above a tusk-bristling maw that drooled syrupy blood. Three meters tall at the very least, with four powerful arms, each holding a curiously curved halberd-like weapon.

It was no Tyrant, but this was the greatest disparity of Pressure he'd felt since coming to this Realm. Hunger attacked without hesitation, knowing that the only way out was through, three dozen blade-winds in the blink of an eye sent screaming towards the foe. One arm snapped forth, halberd twirling, each successive arm taking a guard position behind the last. It weathered the storm of his attacks with sullen indifference, though the one projection that got through tore a deep strip of flesh from its cheek.

No visibility on the ground, and the earth was unsteady. Too difficult to change directions in midair. He parried the thrown halberd that was the thing's counterattack, jolt of the impact sending cruel shivers down his arm, hurling him backwards. All of a sudden the monster blurred, closing distance with furious speed, and scarce had his arm recovered that he was forced to parry fourfold whirling strikes, the creature having casually recovered the copy thrown as it charged.

This was unsustainable. His stance would break or his bones would. He tumbled to the side, attempting to get within the monster's reach, taking a searing cut to the sternum as he moved. His blood sense gave him a good idea of its future movements, but its overwhelming Pressure prevented much direct influence. He whipsawed his blade as he rolled, firing sword-projections towards the creature's wrists, buying him an instant to move freely.

Sprinting away, he cleared distance, Evening Sky shuddering behind him as it partially absorbed the impact of a thrown halberd, casting him to the ground. Even as he fell he conjured more blade-winds, intent on pressuring it, furiously burning his well of energy to keep it at bay.

Some vacation this was. In a way this situation mirrored his fears of the Inner Temple: fodder he could basically ignore, commanded by a guardian that was well above him.

If only he had two arms, blocking would be so much easier. A melee exchange would be more feasible, and in the chaos perhaps he could find an angle, take out its eyes and search for its core...

He knew what he had to do. Cut through, even if it could not be cut. But what did that mean here? Scheming and tricks weren't useful against an inhuman enemy, and unlikely to work given its greater Rank. A single, fulsome attack guided by absolute purity of technique, paring away all that was inessential, mind and blade become void, the path of its stroke an inevitability?

That was Vanreir's art, which he'd tried and failed to imitate. At last he could fire no more blade-winds. Exhausted, he fell to a knee, supporting himself with the Forebear's Blade. It would not take long for this supreme Rotspawn to clear away his swarm of projections, and then it would come for their originator. He could not outrun it for long.

The Forebear's Blade had endured untold eons of conflict in its master's hand. Was there some shadow, some imprint of those battles upon its spiritual essence, as there had been for Verschlengorge? He was the Blade and the Blade was him, but even he was not aware of every psychic shadow that swam beneath the waters of his conscious spirit. Desperate as it was, and uncertain, still he had to try. What would the Forebear do?

Was there some secret? Some trick of the blade? Some hidden technique? Some forbidden art? What did the Forebear draw on, when the hour was dire and death approached like the fall of night?

He remembered, for a moment, the cruelest hour of his life, his victory over the Tyrant.

Catherine with hair of gold had thrown herself before the Tyrant's blade. He remembered the cornflower blue of her eyes, bright with unshed tears, her smile of forgiveness and absolute conviction, spill of her hair like a saintess' halo. He remembered his body moving automatically, exploiting the rare opening the Tyrant had presented him, culmination of ten thousand drills and desperate fighting retreats.

"Win." She'd whispered as he passed her by, her final words on this earth. "Win. That's all that matters."

He remembered the final upward stroke of the Blade as it shattered against the Tyrant's flesh, shards like shrapnel rounds tumbling out and through, the excruciating fire as his soul splintered alongside his weapon. He remembered the final gasping moments as the Tyrant expired at last, body reduced to a slurry of blood and ruin, shell of his murderer standing wide-eyed and broken above him.

He would never discard that memory. He would never cut it away in the pursuit of mere strength. That memory was his strength. It was the reason he'd chosen vengeance when the Accursed had offered happiness instead.

Vanreir's path would never be his own. The Forebear's Blade demanded something else. Something heavier. Something crueler. He recalled - the heft, the mountainous solidity of the Blade in hand, the terrible crushing momentum of its falling stroke, the sharp bitter bite of its edge like ice against marrow -

Grief. Fury. Regret. And the indestructible resolve created thereby. That was its well, the tenor of its strength, wrapped heavy around the limbs like a funeral shroud, such weight and horror that it felt as though he were sinking into the world, sinking down beneath it, tearing through the meager filaments of its foundation to the impossible blue beneath -

Cut. The Cut of the Forebear was not a thing of separation. Its purpose was not so shallow and feeble a task as the mere division of one object from another.

The Forebear used his cut to murder his enemies. That was its purpose. The avalanche force of his Blade bearing down, the pure inevitability of its falling arc - this was not a thing of beauty, nor grace to be admired; not a technique of prowess and certainly no way of life. It was merely, and nothing less than, a thing that took lives.

There was no treachery here, merely Age, merely the hammered-down experience of a billion brutal eons made a single blade of steel and hate. Failure to imitate was only an excuse. Lack of arms was only an excuse. Enemy Pressure was only an excuse. The Forebear had no patience for excuses. Neither did his Blade.

Murder, even if it cannot be murdered. That was the essence of his Cut.

Slowly he advanced, a juggernaut building momentum, Blade aloft and pointed at his enemy. The muck beneath sucked and pulled at him, threatening to drive him under, but sheer inertia kept him in-line as the foe stupidly lunged to meet him. Down came the halberds, but he did not bother blocking. They transfixed him, skewering him four ways, but could not stop him, could barely slow his advance as he tore through, himself impaling, torso falling away, streaming contrails of blood as he finally entered range.

He struck at last, calling to mind all the wretched moments of his long insurgency war, hate and sorrow weighing him down, giving him heft, heft become force, force become might, and the might of his cut split reality at the seams, smashed through the eye-wall of his enemy's Pressure and into its guts and back and through and beyond and further beyond.

He twisted the Blade, an upwards diagonal cut, separating its head and right shoulder from the mass of its body. A downward strike of the pommel, and that body became a morass of flesh and shattered bone. At last his Ring could keep him alive no longer.

The wake of his blade was a cold fathomless blue, like the eyes of the Armament that day at the lake.

Praehihr, it'd called him. Accursed Implement. His wraith form stepped free of his corpse, staring at what he had wrought, the blue fading slowly from the plane of this world, leaving scars of mere reality in its wake.

Sparing nothing, he'd charged into his enemy's attack, charged until he could cut through. Perhaps Vanreir had taught him something after all.

Hunger smiled. This was turning out to be a great vacation.

---

[X] Cut Through, [X] Study the Blade and [X] Hot Springs has won. Overexertion has torn your spirit and its bodily template. Suffer the effects of Punctured Soul with the penalties halved, and the physical penalty halved again due to Quickening. The Hot Springs has cured your Chill of the Grave and Lingering Paralysis conditions.

Choose a participation bonus:

[ ] +1 pick below
[ ] +1 re-roll for major check
[ ] Upgrade Letrizia's Magic (from 2 Arete-equivalent to 7-Arete equivalent)

---

Slaying the Prime Rotspawn has yielded 3 picks, +0.5 Arete. You now have 4.1 Arete.

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Echo of the Forebear - Cloud-shadow of the Forebear's might.
Legendary strength and speed, and the resilience to exert them. Can be taken multiple times. [+Might, +Agility]

[ ] The Ring of Power - Dominion - 2 Arete
A ring of power does not exert influence casually. It has its own will, its own preferences, and if that will should be inseparable from its owner's, its sway thereby shall be greater for it.

Select a domain of influence. While acting within its domain, [Ring of Power] effects are substantially less taxing and more potent; the effects of this can be abstracted as follows: treat the owner's Rank as if it somewhat* higher for related actions. You may select this advancement multiple times, choosing a different domain each time. If multiple domains apply, their bonuses do not compound.

*+0.5 if Low, +.25 if Mid, +.1 if High.

The available domains for Hunger are: War, Passion

[ ] The King Stands Alone - 7 Arete

The king is unswayed. The king is unbowed. That is why, he is the king.

So long as you wield a sword, then when outnumbered, you may treat conflict as a succession of one-on-one duels against each individual opponent. So long as you wield a sword, cap the effects of Rank higher than yours at 'overwhelming advantage' in any direct contest. You may cut through mental and spiritual attacks. +++Willpower.

[ ] Fierce Quickening - The absurd violence of Blood unleashed. Let all that falls within its dominion be spilled, if it be in service to the Ringbearer. Adds [++Agility, +Wits] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Vigor Itself - The primordial might and glory of Blood resplendent. Let all who witness its form tremble, and be subject. Adds [++Might, +Charisma] to the bonuses from Quickening, subject to the usual conditions. Can be taken up to 3 times.

[ ] Augment Dominion: Blood - The world-wielding will of the Ring.
Treat the wielder's Rank as if it were (.5 Low/.25 Medium/.1 High) higher for purposes of the [Ring of Power] effect applied to the Blood domain, increasing its potency and versatility. Repeatable, but costs 1 more pick each time.

[ ] Evening Sky - Opalescence - The soft light of evening before which all attacks falter.
Improves defensive parameters. [+Protection]

[ ] Evening Sky - Iridescence - 2 Arete - The sharp light of the stars before which all malice is lessened.
+Protection, +Charisma. Expands the range of effects subject to the Evening Sky, allowing it to passively weaken almost all forms of magic. Even Nullity itself can be once withstood before the Sky recedes.

--- 2-pick Advancements ---

[ ] Prime - +.3 Astral Rank

--- 3-pick Advancements ---

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Ruinous Valor (3 picks)

Where he advanced, so did the tide of entire wars, the shock of his blade like a hurled epicenter, the trail of his passage but wasteland and rubble.

[+++++Strength]
Power of Ruin now scales upwards depending on your Strength.

Choose:
Einhander - You may not regrow or replace your left arm by any means. Substantially reduces the cost and increases the range of special attacks made with the Forebear's Blade. This Advancement grants Might instead of Strength (+Might = +Str, +Con).
Zweihander - Regrow your left arm. Your barehanded strikes now carry the full destructive power of the Forebear's Blade.

If Einhander is taken, unlocks One Arm Fury.
If Zweihander is taken, unlocks Martial Stances: Forebear's Blade

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Dreadnought's Bearing (7 Arete, 3 picks)

The best defense is the Forebear's bearing.

Requires Undying Echo. Gain +++++++Constitution, +Protection. Gain 50% resistance to the Tired Condition, stacking multiplicatively with other sources of resistance, and 25% resistance to the Exhausted Condition. If you have, or later purchase, the [Iron Curtain] Advancement, you receive its benefits permanently rather than needing to activate them, and may choose to Ignore Exotic Attacks via a Constitution check rather than Deflecting them.

Choose:
Sharp of Eye - Regrow your eye. ++Wits, +Cha. You now have depth perception, making ranged attacks more effective. You may take options that require two eyes; there are surprisingly many.
Rune King - You may not regrow or replace your eye by any means. +Int, +Wisdom, Apply the effects of [To Shatter Heaven] to all magics you learn from now on.

We'll deal with the magic option later. The vote was very close.

---

What now to do?

[ ] Check up on Gisena - +Gisena, +?
[ ] Check up on Letrizia - +Letrizia, +?

 

[Rihaku]

Vertiginous Heights

The winning vote is [X] Zweihander, [X] Upgrade Letrizia's Magic System and [X] Check Up on Gisena.

Letrizia informs Hunger that she has discovered the Elixir residents are hiding the existence of certain children and teenagers who have developed a set of powers they refer to as High Elementalism. With a cursory examination of their blood, Hunger sees how to replicate this effect in both Letrizia and himself. The only other component needed is a large sample of apex-grade Elixir Springs water, which can be gotten at any 5-Star Elixir resort. They're unlikely to be happy with the consumption of so much apex-grade water, but the Sovereignty will just have to deal. Hunger decides to scope out the available resorts with Gisena; which do they end up deciding on?

Hunger currently has 10 currency units, each representing roughly a quarter's wages for a middle-class worker in the Empire.

[ ] The Streamline - A relatively bare-bones resort whose focus is on simple quality of water. The overall accommodations, accoutrements and food service are barely on the level of a 3-star resort, but their root access to apex-grade springs and beautiful skyline views elevate them to the ranks of 5-star. The 'cheap' 5-star, for those who need healing at a somewhat affordable cost. 2 currency units for two nights.

[ ] The Kaguya - A breathtakingly meticulous recreation of the traditional Eastern hot-springs style, situated amongst the most extravagantly opulent accommodations to grace the entire Sovereignty. You may choose to enjoy apex-grade waters fed directly from the root springs while lounging in the sybaritic luxury of your royal-grade suite, or venture into the handcrafted public baths to soak in restorative warmth while drinking in the unspoiled landscape below. Situated upon the slopes of the highest mountain peak, sheltered from wintry frost by the vivacious steam of the core pools, the Kaguya promises a once-in-a-lifetime experience of truly imperial grandeur. Gaze upon the snow-dusted evergreens and crystal-bright streams of this pristine wilderness while savoring the greatest culinary delights that the Sovereignty can bring to bear. 8 currency units for two nights.

There is absolutely no mechanical benefit whatsoever for taking the Kaguya, not even +Relationships, because Gisena and Letrizia aren't shallow like that! Staff at the Kaguya may be somewhat more accommodating of extreme water usage, though it will likely attract attention either way. Take care, this choice may have more implications than are immediately apparent.

---

Choose your Imaginary Element. Letrizia's Element will be revealed afterwards.

[ ] 2 Arete Version - Reduce all Attribute/Rank benefits by 70%, remove all Arete discounts, increase by 400% the difficulty / time requirement of esoteric applications and reduce by one half-step the theoretical limits of the Element's abilities. The effectiveness of blasts, voids and shields of the element is largely unaffected.
[ ] 7 Arete Version - As written.

[ ] Quickwater: The moon-graced elixir of formless clarion, whose dewdrops are stars and mist the constellation, its falling rain the cosmos come plunging to earth. In its simplest form, a fog of quickwater conveys pitiless, whimsical speed, swiftness like an ink-blur trail. Dimmed, it conveys the quiet speed of an assassin's moon; heightened, it scours vision away like ten thousand blazing suns. Congealed into tenuous solidity, its potions may confer all manner of transformation, many of them swiftly lethal. Take care when wielding its ten thousand variations, for it acknowledges neither liege nor master, only the primacy of the moment.

Hunger's imaginary Element is determined by his practicality. He requires immediate power and access to esoteric effects; this provides both.

Quickwater mist grants +50% AGI, +.1 Rank, and a degree of concealment to its creator when within its bounds; increasing density over time can improve this to +100% AGI, +.25 Rank with preparation. A symmetrical Rank penalty is applied to others inside, including allies. Bonuses can be further developed with training.
~Quickwater potions can be imbibed for similar effect, but require constant effort to stabilize in coherent liquid form.
~Variations currently available: Assassin's Mist provides ++++Stealth instead of Rank; Blinding Mist grants exceptional "concealment" by outputting enormous quantities of light. Mist type may be switched every moonrise, or potions concocted in advance, though with the usual stipulations. Some means of overcoming sleep may be necessary to keep potions stable through the night...
~Experimentation can yield vast varieties of different mist with varying effects. The transformations of Quickwater are as endless as the realm of dreams. Take care that you do not wander into the distaff plane of nightmare.

[ ] Inksky: Nothing less than the semi-sentient symbiotic substance of the Evening Sky itself. With this, the mantle's power is amplified threefold: suffused at a greater density, it provides more overall benefits; with its master capable of healing it, it can swiftly regenerate from depletion; and through the crude manipulation of High Elementalism it can be brought to bear as lash or aegis against one's enemies, curling around to stifle, trip, smother and crush.

Hunger's Imaginary Element is determined by his panoply.

Single Receptacle: Rather than firing blasts of inksky himself, Hunger manifests all instances of High Elementalism through the vessel of the Evening Sky, allowing it to benefit from Accretion. +100% to the Protection and Charisma granted by the Evening Sky. Unlocks a number of highly efficient Evening Sky Advancements dealing with the domains of space, night, majesty and magic.

Discounts Pillars of Creation by 5 Arete.
-Hunger may take an action to repair the Evening Sky; amount repairs depends on the total +Protection granted and his own ability in High Elementalism
-Hunger may directly manipulate the Evening Sky as an extra appendage, though control is crude until trained.
With time, the cloak could expand to truly cosmic size: become the evening sky in truth!

[ ] Edeldross: This precursor component of findross embodies redemption, perfection, restoration and the renewal of cycles. It is the liminal gloss between real and ideal, whereby the purposeless matter of the corporeal world becomes the refined substrate of supernal augmentation. Blasts, voids and shields of solidified edeldross convey the principle of 'transference without harm,' allowing the character to re-position allies and scatter enemies with minimal possibility of collateral damage. Kinetic flight is possible through continuous burst releases, but its greatest benefits are found in augmentation. Pure edeldross is semi-corporeal and swiftly fades beneath the withering indifference of the real, but contained within a person's body it holistically augments all elements of the self, supernal excellence beyond the reach of the mundane.

Though mastery is a long and arduous process, precise configurations of Edeldross can be arranged so as to replicate nearly one-tenth of all Sorcerous Graces.

Hunger's Imaginary Element is determined by his relationships. Gisena's art, shaped by Letrizia's language and technique, conferring Catherine's benevolence. +Gisena, +Letrizia, +Catherine (?)

Discounts Total Eclipse by 1 Arete
-Solidified edeldross can be used as a form of damage-preventing energy blast, which, while unable to slay enemies on its own, can be actively spammed due to its negation of harm. Can ablate away to cancel equivalent quantities of Nullity, allowing for easy combat alongside Gisena with a bit of practice. Pacify a city undergoing a zombie apocalypse with a minimum of innocent life lost, scatter both sides in a pitched battle without slaying any of their number, etc.
-Beings within the radius of a release of pure edeldross receive a 20% bonus to all Attributes. The magnitude of this bonus can be improved over time. Take care not to buff your enemies as well. Pure edeldross is considerably more draining to use.
-By working with Gisena's mage-sight, Hunger may slowly over time develop specific Patterns of edeldross that can temporary replicate the effects of various Sorcerous Graces. Perhaps developments even further than this can be achieved in time...