Fanwork#2264 Words
Reaction: "Aloft to Murder"
Aloft to Murder
It began, the herculean struggle between man and beast, the test of patience and timing, of placement and cunning, a contest of wills as much as of strength. Prey and predator were united by hunger as well as happenstance: the fish, to nibble at bait without surrendering its life, and the man, to seize his prize before the lure dissipated.
We've made jokes about the Hero's sudden desire to give his all during his fishing trip, but now that the die has been cast, we can consider the deeper consequences that follow.
Is it merely about fishing? Hardly so, Hunger could have taken the opportunity to relax his tight nerves instead of expending himself so eagerly. Nobody was forcing him otherwise, there was no pressure to accomplish something here. It would have been much saner to rest from his prior battle and give his Presence time to unwind.
Yet he decided to achieve the best result possible, to pit himself against the strongest only, or none at all. Maybe there was some measure of competitiveness driving the Hero, a desire to one-up Gisena in continuation of their endless back and forth, but I have my doubts it was a decisive factor. He's an experienced man that has lived through a guerilla war and lost nearly everything, not a hot-blooded youth that would waste his strength on frivolities easily.
So what could motivate Hunger here? What could overwrite that cold-blooded calculation that didn't flinch in the face of the Accursed's Brand? I'm thinking the Moby-Dick themes are no coincidence, they're a sign of the Hero's issues surfacing again. He hates the Hidden Masters deeply and relentlessly, turning this hatred into motivation and will to continue, but realistically speaking, how long is it going to take for Hunger to reach them? To stand in front of them and revisit every single thing they'd subjected him to upon them a thousandfold? And what are his chances of surviving till then with his mind intact?
Apocrypha had just showed him a tiny fraction of its horrors, dredging up his issues and striking at weakness without hesitation. He's under a Geas to conquer
tens of thousands of worlds occupied by an advanced civilization. He carries a Doom and an Affliction that turn this task from 'insanely difficult' to 'there was this kind of mode too? why?!'
That's a lot of stress to pile onto a single man. Perhaps enough stress for him to snap under it and take out all his frustration on some fish. It's not the fish's fault his life sucks so much, but it's there and can be fought.
Though sometimes a fish is just a fish. Maybe Lord Hunger simply takes his dinner very seriously.
Overcome by the moment, defiant against the fates and the world, he spent of himself recklessly, drawing forth every iota of power to bend lake and denizens to his will. His instincts pierced the waters like a great refulgent eye, and the tantalizing gleam and dance of his bait was as a thing of gold, made precious and inescapable by the will of his spirit.
"I-is all this really necessary?" Letrizia shouted, barely audible over the circle of winds that whipped around him, an intemperate halo.
You have much to learn, Letty. Of course it's necessary!
We are not some piddling man with a rod here, we're a Fisherman angling for a Catch! If the world will not acquiesce and produce dramatic winds at the appropriate moments, we'll have to force the matter instead! With Accretion, we're the Main Character of any scene we can out Pressure on, and while Main Characters can fail, even their failure is a mere prelude to greater success!
Unless we're in the horror genre, but how likely is that?
"Go Hunger! Feed us, yay!!" Gisena cheered, bouncing lightly in place. She'd come over to witness the spectacle, pausing her ominous work on Verschlengorge's missile array. Hair and dress alike fluttered crazily in the wind; he wasn't sure how she could see.
Gisena probably doesn't need to see with mundane senses, she's can just as well enjoy the spectacle his magic produces. At least something good has come of our effort - she's not playing with the explosives anymore.
There. A sharp tug and jerk on his line, sudden force as if to pull the rod from his hand.
A big one.
Yeah, given Hunger's current level of strength, anything that can strain him is not going to be a mere fish. It'll be a beast worthy of legend!
He stabilized, setting one foot against Verschlengorge's finger to resist his opponent's strength. Hook, line, rod and man bowed taut under the strain, a single parabola of exertion that bound them to the leviathan below. Pressure alone held line and rod together against the forces transmitted; in mortal hands they would long since have snapped.
So is this where the Rod of Ages comes in? Our fishing implement should break under the burden we've forced onto it, yet our Pressure would not allow that, so it could only transform into something beyond its fragile mortal form. I assume it's not a real Artifact and merely the shape our Pressure takes to influence the world.
Well, even if it's only temporary, it's interesting to see what Accretion Rank can achieve and how it does that. Could we do the same in real combat? Just produce certain special effects unrelated to our Implements with Pressure alone? I'd really like to see some use out of this ability next battle - when we're not as Exhausted, of course.
This was no ordinary fish. He, who had the strength of ten men on a poor day, whose line and rod and hook were infused with the power of ruin, was being pressed to the uttermost limit. He sensed deep power here, vigor beyond the limits of muscle and scale. Down below, beneath the windblown chop of the lake surface, he caught a glimpse of movement, an opalescent shimmer that tugged the eye even as it fled.
"Gisena!" He roared. "A magical beast!"
Of course it has magic. Why wouldn't it have magic? Its scales seem to have some kind of mesmeric attraction attached to them too. A defensive tool, or maybe the means by which it hunts its prey? Of course their influence on the Hero is minimal, but that says nothing about the magic's strength. Failing to affect someone with his Accretion Rank and more importantly experience is hardly grounds for dismissing its effectiveness.
She came up beside him, pressed between the fingers of the Armament. Indiscriminate fire would dispel his Pressure and the rod would snap immediately. Carefully she raised her arm and found an angle, open palm launching Null bolts rapid-fire into the depths below.
We really need to do something about our incompatibility. There are so many tactics that could become available to us if only we could cooperate with Gisena properly! Evening Sky is a step in the right direction, but we'd still lose some of our defense if splashed by her shots, so some resistance would be even better.
Ahh, hindsight is 20/20, we could have probably just as easily racked up some points with her without trusting Gisena initially. Well, I guess I'll wait for the final judgement until she has a go at our Curses.
Moments passed. Gisena shook her head, hair trailing distractingly across his nose and cheek. "It's shrouded by some supernatural murk. I can't get a good lock on it."
Eyes on the prize, Hero! Remember your wife and child and stay strong! This probably isn't the first supernaturally beautiful woman you've seen, - I sincerely doubt there was a lack of those in Tyrant's world, given both Accretion's effects on its users and the mentions of Fae, - and she's by far not the last you'll encounter on your journey. No matter how many times she shows you her feet, don't fall to temptation!
It's curious how her senses can't push past the fish's concealment. Maybe they're much better at parsing obvious in your face effects like the Curses and don't function as well when doing subtler stuff. Then again, it might be something she can train and just didn't have an incentive to before this - if she wanted to deal with stealth effects before, all she had to do was hit the rough area with a wide-ranging dispeller.
He grunted, arm livid with strain. The steel wire of the line was beginning to fray visibly, and the wood of the rod was shot through with cracks. Sheer will held them together. He needed a plan.
"I'm going to pull up," he said. "The rod won't last much longer regardless. When I do, fire a wide area attack into the lake. As soon as it passes, I'll give you the rod. Hold the line as long as you can."
A sound idea. Trying to outlast the monster isn't going to work, whether because we're likely to tire out earlier or because the rod won't survive for long, so it's best to cut the knot and give Gisena a clear shot. Not as sold on having her take over later, but her superhuman stats should be worth something.
"Okay," she nodded, not bothering to ask for an explanation. An orb of concerted Nullity formed around her hand, a thrumming distortion that cleared the appearance of the air rather than twisting it.
Probably just special effects, but it's also possible there's some kind of persistent magical effect permeating the whole Realm and she's dispelling it locally. I don't think she's advanced enough to dispel reality itself through sheer concentrated Null quite yet. While Graces can be quite ridiculous too when taken far enough, she's still only a Three Grace Sorceress.
"Now!" He heaved upwards, arm and implement pressed to the breaking point, the hollow, scraped-out reserves of his personal might rallying one last time. The fish resisted him, it tugged and thrashed with a congealed river's worth of force, but was pulled skywards in the end, at last visible beneath the waves.
It also has water magic? Naturally it has water magic, it's a fish. I'm really curious what sort of loot we can get from the fish. We don't have the Talon to transform prey directly into useful materials, but surely something as obviously magical as this fish has something nice to offer! Or at least something tasty.
Gisena swept her arm, Nullity in an arc released before her, catching wind and wave and fish alike. As that rippling translucence passed through, the beast spasmed once and began struggling even more fiercely, but the strength of its movements was lessened, now mere muscle and sinew.
Gisena brings her own brand of fairness into the fight - no more supernatural tricks for you, mister Fish! I wonder if it's a prolonged effect or just a disruption of its current spell. Given past experience I'd tip on the former, so this should be over fairly soon.
He handed over the ravaged rod and plunged into the water.
It was a great iridescent creature, near serpentine in length, fanged maw snapping impotently at the waters around it. Striations of texture and color crossed its body in thick bands, pearly scales of amber, violet and pale blue that contrasted with the glittering mass of its main body.
Someday I'll be able to read through one of Rihaku's updates without having to look up a single word, I'm sure! That day is not today. Not sure I could have even if English was my first language, there's a difference between knowing a language and wielding it as a literary tool.
So it really was a Seven Colored Fish! We might not be ready to d-duel yet, but a road, no matter how long, always starts with a first step.
His hook had dug deep, disappearing down its gullet, and dark crimson blood plumed steadily from its mouth. Even now, denied its supernal primacy, it raged in furious consternation, without a hint of fear in its ruby eyes.
He smiled. It was overlord of this idyllic stretch, the biggest fish in this inland pond. As had been the Tyrant himself, in light of such beings as the Accursed.
I don't think there are words for a proper comparison of how far apart they are. Even comparing a speck of dust to a vast universe doesn't begin to describe the gulf between the Tyrant and the Accursed. Even in comparison to the Hidden Masters he wasn't much - we'll likely exceed his projected power level even before finishing this world, and the Rank 10 that far surpasses Tyrant's limits is still very far from being enough to challenge them from what I understood.
Hallowed energies swam about as it began to recover from Gisena's assault. Swiftly he drew the Forebear's Blade and in one fluid motion plunged it into the creature's gills. Its scales were dense, layered and overlapping like lacquered armor, but physical necessity left these unguarded. As it writhed, he sent a pulse of chopping force out through the blade and into its internals, then twisted cruelly, sending a second strike towards its brain.
It flailed once, desperately, and went still.
Yeah, once the Ruinous Blade is inside them and has a chance to release some hits from within, it's pretty much game over for most creatures of our level without a healing factor. And that's without using the Fell-Handed Tempest!
Moments later he emerged from the lake's surface with the beast strewn across his back. Its bulk was heavy across his shoulders, head flopping down to his elbow, while its muscular tail dragged sullenly against the ground.
"You did it!" Gisena exclaimed, running down to join him.
"Not... going to take credit... for this?" He panted.
"No," she replied, eyes bright. "Unless you want me to. It's only been a few hours; did you miss my teasing already?"
"I... am going... to lay down." He said, walking up the grassy incline. Upon reaching level ground, he set the fish atop it and sprawled out beside, breathing heavily.
Haah, there's no winning with this one. I'm starting to suspect she's earnest about her pursuit of the Hero. Which paradoxically makes me worry about her own mental state - Hunger's Curses should be clear as day to her, bright blood red letters of evil painted all over his magic, so to say.
Every moment she spends with the Hero means both risking her life to Apocrypha and losing her youth and vigor to Decimation. And she should also be aware that Hunger is going to grow far beyond her in the foreseeable future, so the relationship is going to be quite unbalanced should they come together.
Just how nihilistic is she if none of that scares her off?
He should not have done that. It had been an almost completely pointless endeavor. The purpose of this jaunt had been to rest, not to tire himself further. And yet, as he looked at the magnificent catch beside him, he couldn't help but feel that it had all been worth it.
Fuck. He still had to get in the robot after this.
Let's call it an active rest day and try not to repeat it too often. Hopefully we'll calm down a bit after reaching civilization and having a chance to properly exert that Nightmare Praetor brain. We're supposed to be calm and composed, remember, so no flying off after a shiny or an awesome scene more than half of the time.
Gisena peered down at him, amused, while Letrizia came around to admire the catch.
"You find this... funny?" He asked, still breathing heavily.
The Sorceress smoothed out her dress and sat down beside him. "You tell me, hero. What part of this isn't funny?"
It's pretty hilarious from where I'm sitting, so I can understand her somewhat. I don't think the Hero shares my appreciation though.
At least Letrizia has the good sense to appreciate our efforts!
He grunted, raising himself on his elbows, but Gisena placed one delicate hand on his chest and pushed him back down. "Oh no you don't. Rest now, you've earned it."
She smiled slyly. "Or... would you prefer to lay your head on my lap? Fellow Sorceresses tell me it's very comfortable. Our standards are the very highest!"
Hah, we're immunized against such threats after getting second-hand accounts of Imperia's lap pillows! Do your worst, we'll never bend to your will, Nullity. Unless you have the resolve necessary to overcome an ultra-long route like that, don't even bother.
"Hmph." He closed his eyes. "Arrogant and a liar too. Why do I put up with you?"
She laughed. "Using my own lines against me? How shameless, hero!"
"You don't deserve original lines."
"Hm? And what would one do to earn such an honor?"
"First, catch a legendary fish."
"Well then." She stretched prettily, then got up and stalked around to the other side of the fish. "Perhaps I'll take credit for this one after all."
To be fair, it was at least half her work and success. Without that dispelling the Fish would have escaped.
As Gisena inspected their catch, he let out another deep breath, staring upwards at the sky.
Twilight had come to their corner of the Voyaging Realm. The sun dipped slowly down the horizon, incandescence like molten wax pooling atop the waters. Above was the first encroachment of the evening dark, faint tracery of the moon and stars, the world grown hushed and still like an expectant audience. Atop his finger the ring of power shined, a burning jewel, a wound in the world from which no recovery was possible, light like blood spilling into the slowly dimming dusk.
Scraps of shadow, like inverse fireflies, fluttered around the ring-light, orbiting it steadily. Residue of the pirate captain's armor, the Astral equivalent of blood on his knuckles.
So this is why we needed a whole 7 Arete points to reel that Sky in. We had mere traces to go by, hardly something one can use to capture an intelligent Artifact after it fled beyond the world's borders in normal circumstances.
He frowned, thinking slowly. Was there some way to capture that power? Harness it, as he'd done to the Forebear's Blade and Tyrant's Ring? He needed some form of supernal protection. The armor's abilities had been impressive, even if its loyalty had been lacking.
Thankfully loyalty won't be an issue after this. Though will it retain some measure of intelligence? I find myself missing a voice in our protagonist's head sometimes, and if the Forebear won't oblige, we might have to make do with a less impressive substitute.
Not a Curse though, having them talk to us would be a bit much.
But he was unusually skilled at abducting the artifacts of others and binding them to his cause. It was the only field where he'd surpassed the Tyrant definitively. Ring and Blade were willful items both, difficult even to command. And yet he'd succeeded completely, united his will with theirs until there was no distinguishing them. Physically they were discrete objects, but in the realm of spirit they were one being, free of discontinuity. Were his physical form to perish, would he live on in them as a remnant?
Probably not. He was too weak still. Something to strive for in time. Couldn't let death impede his vengeance.
I'd really like to help you there, Hunger, but it'll likely take a long, long time to gather the necessary Arete for that, especially with Apocrypha hounding our heels constantly.
I wonder where exactly his superior talent in the field of Abduction stems from. Is it a sign of superior will? Likely not alone, maybe combined with the ability to adapt one's spirit and to force changes onto another's. Is it the so called legendary Power of Friendship applied to Artifacts? Too bad we're limited in our number of Artifacts, or we could get some really good use out of this capability.
Exhausted as he was, he focused again. Remembering how it had felt to lure the tyrant-fish to him. The shape of the Pressure he'd had to exert, its tenor and form. He remembered the hue and spill of that pirate's armor, ink the violet of midnight that rose in steady streamers.
The night sky's incursion against sun and blue.
Evening approached; there was no better time than this. He clenched his fist, and the ring that bore his name flared red, light so bright as to rival the setting sun, and slowly the scraps of shadow surrounding him began to multiply, drawn by the gravitation of the one who had defeated them.
Nice. He's using every available factor to perform the act - the Pressure 'spell' he'd learned while catching the Fish, the memory, the ambiance and time, and as a key the leftover fragments from its defeat by his hand. As I previously said, I'm really curious to see what kind of things Pressure can do by itself. Maybe we'll acquire some magics reliant on it? Though relying on an Artifact to enact reality-bending effects is probably much more efficient.
He grasped them, wove them together with his magic and will, usurped them and made them his own. From the jewel of his ring burst forth a cloak, wrapping up and around his arm to rest upon his shoulders. It was the stars and the evening sky, a texture like billowing clouds, the fall of its drape a velvet window into night. Power infused him, boundless and inexorable as the evening itself: against which mundane force could find no purchase, and resilient against stranger assaults.
Most importantly, we can make the snazzy cloak go swish whenever we want. Never again will we lack for a dramatic entrance!
The protection is more impressive than I thought. Or maybe the description about mundane force is poetic exaggeration? In any case we finally have some defenses. We might have passed up that battlefield healing, but this should make up for that somewhat.
Contentedly he closed his eyes. Properly outfitted at last. He recalled the final dictates of destiny, hours before the Tyrant had slain its oracles -
Treasures numbering three,
Ought hero's panoply be.
Crown, Saber and Orb,
Shield, Symbol and Sword,
Blade, Mantle and Ring;
Aloft to murder a king.
We even have a prophecy that fits this! Is this how the Tyrant defeated fate? By killing its agents? Sounds a bit too easy, to be honest.
Still, Hunger might have killed the Tyrant already without destiny's support, but one can't be a proper Hero without prophetic doom and gloom! So the ensemble is finally complete, next step is polishing them till they're worthy of being called weapons of legend.
It was a childish rhyme, and meaningless. But a cloak - a mantle - was more comfortable than armor, and its magic protected all the same. Let this be their victory as well, they who had first given themselves to shield him from the Tyrant's regard.
Even now it feels weird to count destiny's stewards among our allies after last quest. I get where he's coming from, but I don't think I'll ever lose my suspicions about them.
---
You have gained [X] Fell-Handed Stroke and the [X] Evening Sky.
Having overcome the King Fish, a feat of great, prowess, you may choose a benefit:
[ ] Crown - +.25 Astral Rank. Your Astral Rank is now 3.75, though see Exhausted, below.
[ ] Saber - Restore a fraction of the Forebear's Blade, extending its reach and sharpness with all the advantages that entails. Once per battle, may defer the cost of Fell-Handed Stroke until the fight concludes.
[ ] Orb - Gain title, [Master Baiter]. ++Manipulation when provoking enemies to attack you, or ++Bait Quality for Fishing and fishing-analogous tasks.
You are currently Exhausted, unable to exert Pressure in most circumstances, though the abilities of your panoply remain active. Needless to say, if attacked you will be at a significant disadvantage. A day's rest will render you merely Tired.
And yet, a hero's work is never done. What now to do?
[ ] Dress the Fish - Help Gisena clean, dress, and investigate the King Fish. Its magical power was immense. What secrets lie beneath its treasure-laden scales? [+Gisena, +?]
[ ] Get In The Robot - Investigate the Armament and its connection with your Curse. Praehihr, it called you. Have the Foremost encountered Cursebearers before? You can, of course, get in the robot later, while the King Fish may be decomposing now. But matters regarding your Curses must take higher priority. Affects characterization.
[++Letrizia, +?, -Gisena]
[ ] Pass Out - This mantle is comfy. +1 Arete; 29 days of A Hunger Sated remain. Wastes the night.
Having seen some of the crazy things Accretion Rank allows one to do in this update, I'm kind of tempted to take up the Crown. Still, it gives us no immediate benefits, since we'll have to wait out the Exhaustion debuff to take advantage of it. Orb has great synergy with our build, but it seems to have lost traction completely, so I guess Sword it is.
Not that it is a bad pack in itself, restoring the Blade always has worth, and getting in a 'free' Fell-Strike can be the difference between life and death, especially in our current state.
Still want to dress the fish though. After all the work chasing this mystery box, giving up before the last step just feels weird.
[X] Saber
[X] Dress the Fish
