Ragnarok
Novakhron groaned under the weight of its burdens.
Hunger had not taken much time with his Armament of legend, the spell-forged behemoth he had conjured into being at the apex of his mastery of Myth. It had served him well as steed and protector for the lesser members of his party - for though they lacked in power, they were no less crucial to the project overall, and their potential demise no less harrowing.
Briefly he frowned. That, was the coldly analytical evaluation that the Hero of old (or, more appropriately, Catherine) might have assayed, when appraising his forces for survival against the Tyrant. Now he was that Tyrant in full - infinitely greater along every avenue of measure, even - and sought also to quell a Hero with utter finality.
Dien Bravo had suborned a great part of the Human Sphere with fetters of technology and flesh; Hunger had broken it to his will through brute power and supernatural command.
For a society that lived and died on the backs of its smattering handful of Armaments, a billion Armament-level combatants was a Biblical deluge; such overwhelming force that it might as well have been an outside-context problem, and equally as decisive. The probability-smoothing aspects of Rank only further served to enforce that hegemony.
Each of Hunger's echoes was but the cloud-shadow of his true might, but even that passing oppression could smother whole worlds beneath the obliterating press of his will. Much less when multiplied a billionfold! Had his intentions been ill, it would have been a cataclysm of desolation unimaginable: what resistance was possible, or even thinkable, in the face of a world that flowed only and ever towards the purpose of a single master, the merest quantum fluctuation snapping unerringly to attention beneath his incidental regard?
The Forebear had commanded power such as this: power of such indestructible totality that even the preconditions of opposition spoiled and withered away. Hunger wielded not even an infinitesimal speck of his prior self's might; and could only hope he would possess more than a speck of its wisdom, if he should survive the eons ahead.
...so Dien's killcount is officially in the trillions?And in matters of survival, the chief implement was strength. Dien would not permit any other means; he would not sit back and allow Hunger's billion-man armada to blanket the cosmos like a tide and drown him beneath its weight. Nor had negotiation in good faith ever been possible or desirable: Hunger would not deign to speak to the monster who had so callously 'liquidated' trillions, and the Hero was constrained to opposition by his fundamental nature.
Dien Bravo would strike - was preparing already to mount his attempt, a single monumental deathblow - before Hunger could fully master the reality manipulation afforded by his Soul Evocation. Already the threads of Dien's cosmic spider-web were turning inwards: resources quantized and funneled back to their origin, assets converted into raw potentiality to forge a god-beast that could rival the Imprisoner's might.
Hunger's echoes were tracking his efforts, of course, but the Foremost had conjured contingencies like signal flares: a bewildering array of contagions, incubators, constructs and simple oddities each of which might have been a crucial component of some precipitous scheme, sprinkled like dizzying shrapnel across ten dozen galaxies and sub-dimensions.
Not even with Gisena's aid could they hope to unravel the true thread in time; the Surgeon had been producing his grand array of complications since the very moment of his inception, while Gisena had focused all her efforts on perfecting Hunger's Soul Evocation.
And that's why Apocryphal is SUCH a nice narrative tool: you're basically given an easy justification for "why the enemy's mad schemes work in the best way possible".In many ways her strategy had succeeded: with regards to density of power, they were unassailable, far beyond even the mightiest of Dien's deployed horrors, and that Soul Evocation itself had helped Hunger project his power across the galaxy entire. But if Dien in his desperation pulled out every stop, took every desperate risk and burned every resource, counting on the Apocryphal Curse to support his reckless drive... would the gulf between their powers be unassailable still?
Hunger had no inclination to underestimate his Crowning Curse, and so endeavored always to climb higher. Novakhron was the swiftest instrument of that ascent, its reality-bending might supreme among manifest Armaments, with power and speed that eclipsed even the fiercest of its kin. If it could be modified to become compatible with his Sword Praxis, even the Foremost Shards combined would pose little threat in direct battle.
But that was no trivial task.
The etchings of the Praxis in cramped microscopic script covered every panel and crevice of the towering Armament, each rune and sigil painstakingly carved by Hunger and Gisena with the full support of Evening's Realm; yet according to Verschlengorge this was but the first in an interminable list of components necessary to achieve full compatibility. The Devouring Armament had been smugly laconic as usual, offering mere tidbits after continuous prodding from Letrizia.
But he did not resent the thing; Hunger had a sense that the monumental difficulty of the task, its will-denuding immensity, was itself an step along the Praxis. An offering to, and meditation on its deepest principles. There were arts where efficiency was a matter of formalism, and every shortcut existed to be wholly exploited - and arts where the toil itself was the process of true actualization.
Verschlengorge had confirmed that it was definitively possible, given their tools on hand: in honesty, that had been more generous than Hunger's wilder dreams.
Aobaru, fulfill your destiny, o mighty hero!Novakhron listed again, swaying as if in a breeze, and fell from its support frame to one knee. It was currently being subjected to a process of mythic re-forging beneath the harshest and most transcendental of Aobaru's Vigorflames: its very essence spooled and folded and unmercifully hammered by the Realm of Evening to draw out and eradicate every trace of impurity. Afterwards it would be doused in waves of conceptual Nullity, compressed and scoured bare of even abstract imperfection before Hunger would attempt Totality again - hoping it could withstand merger, even temporary, with the Forebear's Blade.
Hoping it could become his implement, his cosmic sword, his murder-weapon in truth.
Hunger sighed. All this, merely to cement their already-colossal lead over Dien. Was it worth it, such iron certainty?
good boyBut the Apocryphal Curse demanded no less diligence than this. Victory each and every time, with such consistency as to rival the inevitability of the Forebear; nothing less would produce vengeance against the Hidden Ones.
well, our heroes are doing their best. Letrizia and Aeira are providing moral support, Verschle is giving a few tips here and there, Nova is bearing the process, Aobaru is fanning the flames, Gisena is using Nullity, and Hunger is, as usual, carrying about 80 to 90% of the teamIt was a cruel and fearsome tempering, which the Armament bore with stoic resolve, constraining its moans of pain as form and soul alike were relentlessly smelted down and remade. Time, however, marched with equal relentlessness. Before Dien arrived, Novakhron had to be made ready, else all it had endured would be for naught. There was no chance for respite nor room for hesitation. Only the Work.
---
well, he's doing fine it seems
well, this seems to imply that only our Artful Thorne (pierce version, I can't remember the name right now) and the Deathly Star should work well, as they'd target all layers at once.Under-prepared, ill-equipped, outgunned and even outnumbered, now that he had consolidated the majority of his forces into himself. He bestrode the cosmos like a primeval nightmare; doom of country and civilization both, endless flesh compressed yet refracted outwards, tendrils like the roots of a methuselah pine. Burrowed so deep into the fabric of this reality, and the countless textural layers above and below, that he simply could not be torn loose; each gradient reinforcing the others such that harm on one level would be wiped away by reinforcement from its kin. Ten thousand magics in a faultless feedback loop sufficed to power the inordinate requirements of that superstructure, though even together they were feeble rejoinder to the enemy's Imperial Praxis.
damn, how does he do it? I NEARLY feel sorry for him, for taking his chance to reach even higher!Nonetheless it was a miracle of engineering, some of his finest work: he had always operated well under pressure! And yet before the foe that he went to confront, it was little and lacking, almost nothing at all. There was meagre room for growth left in him; all had been truncated, repurposed to the end of this single confrontation, this single moment in time where Lord Hunger would be - relatively - vulnerable still. He had sacrificed so much, burned away entire horizons and vistas of possibility, only to grasp this moment.
A moment before Progression left Dien behind, as it had every one of 'they who had presumed to defy Lord Hunger.'
A Cursebearer, is a King. It can be no other way. Struggle all you like, Praehihr. Not even you can fight your intrinsic nature.
For Kings were not heroes, but what heroes became, when they allowed their ideals to twist them into imposing their will upon the world. And why should the world yield to will, merely because its vessel possessed strength?
To engender what you prefer. To abolish what you despise. Enacted on a great enough scale, these were nothing more than the actions of a Tyrant, well-meaning or not.
Dien readied himself. It is the fate of Heroes to die, that a grander world may be born, or a grander purpose fulfilled.
And what purpose could be greater, than the toppling of such a King as this?
..well, it seems like there's no last-second surprise. That's nice, for once.This was the end, one way or another. If by miraculous advent he survived what came, in all likelihood he would be little more than a blasted ruin of his self, a shattered husk bearing slight resemblance to the Hero-that-had-been. He had awakened as a Shard and would return to that state, should he persist at all.
It was not that he underestimated Lord Hunger. By calculated reckoning his chance of victory was minuscule, but what did that matter in the end? It would not change his path; all he could do, all he had ever done, was give his absolute effort no matter the odds.
It had not been a full life, nor a long one. But it had been good; filled with invention, observation, dominion and adversity, never a dull moment in the months that he'd had. He had conquered much of the known universe, nearly brought humankind to heel, before Progression had reduced his works to ash.
A good life, deserved a glorious death. He was but a shard still, but he would endeavor to present a defiance, worthy of the Foremost.
Dien smiled, inasmuch as his horror-body could, and prepared his first volley. Thus always to Tyrants.
..well, that's moderately impressive.He struck through the sun of Hunger's present system, where his incubator-parasites allowed a pinhole stream of data from the otherwise impenetrable domain of Hunger's Soul Evocation. Livid white cracks erupted across the surface of that sun, wounds that dwarfed planets: through which extruded a single titanic tendril, splayed like forked lightning, overturning and destroying, star-body rupturing like a pulped pumpkin as it yielded to that horrible emergence.
The tendril's glow was blinding, a terrible light that out shined the now-eviscerated star, a ghastly radiance like every painful truth, every grotesque revelation, impossibly combined. Marshaling strength, Dien's tendril became a proper Limb, enormous against the sun of its birth, an implement with the outside chance of actually harming Lord Hunger.
..well, he even knows of Winter.Every moment he placed himself in his opponent's presence cost him, untold spillage of essence to counter the all-subduing aura of... Winter? the man exuded. Interesting! The Tyrant had not been idle, nor complacent in further developing his faculties. Had Dien not consolidated so rapidly, or quantized all his subordinates, perhaps he would have been better informed of this development.
The Praehihr was, curiously, in his actual Armament for once, a colossus of green and gold whose every surface had been re-patterned with runes of Praxis blue. It blazed with glory ineffable, enough not merely to subdue but overrule lesser minds. A curious electricity played across its surface, static keening and hum of delusion that stretched all reality about it to contain its mere heft.
Dien chuckled. So you've created an abomination, just as I have.
See, you offended him! He's a sensitive soul, you know!As if in answer to that thought the Armament howled, more blast wave than roar, sheer distortion that whipped and roiled the cosmos like an unquiet sea; all-burying thunder which stilled even the tempest of Dien's own thoughts, and then - vanished.
..how can an infinity be small?Simultaneously, Dien's emergent Limb splintered, split in twain by an all-piercing bolt, then smashed into glittering residue by the wake of Ruin that accompanied it. Ghostly Hungers began to corporealize, winking into existence by the tens of millions, pursuing him along the path of emergence to pare his tendrils and strike at his core. With swiftness he manifested another tendril, spasm of destruction butchering the contingent of echoes, but their numbers swelled even greater in response, a seemingly endless provocation of forms. The full billion were swiftly present, pruning his extrusions with eerie coordination.
It was foolish to invest heavily, so early, especially as he had failed to track Hunger's main body, but Dien had no choice. A small infinity of tendrils now deployed, inundating the system entirely, destroying and harvesting the swarm of clones in full.
I KNEW IT!The morass of their carnage, he hoped, would conceal or distract from his first serious contingency: a three-pronged effort to assimilate Shogun, Emissary, and Arcanist at once. He merely had to hold Hunger's attention here for a few long moments, before his efforts in the Voyaging Realm would come to fruition. Loathe as he was to dilute his Heroism, Dien could not afford the luxury of ontological coherence anymore!
..that WOULD have been quite the terrible insult. If only we could afford it I would have LOVED for Gisena to be the one to kill Dien...Already his extrusions were breaking into the Arcanist's lair, while Hunger's clones prepared a valiant but meaningless offensive against his in-system tendrils. But Dien could not shake a feeling of unease, the anxiousness of a worthy opponent's regard: what exactly was his foe doing, if he wasn't here? The Ereadhihr was swift enough that Dien could barely react, yet had only struck but once...
Am I so far beneath you, Lord Hunger, that you won't even kill me yourself?!
---
and then we learn that "surprise, you've been summoned right in the middle of the final boss fight!"Yes, what exactly is Hunger doing, while his clones and allied Shards are fighting for their lives? How irresponsible, allowing Dien to simply overrun the Shogun's system like that! Is he preparing a tremendous counterattack, or was he distracted by other affairs?
Vote update tomorrow!
really? 1 billion Peckish (I love this name ) and even THAT is not enough to check all his possible contingencies?
I'm surprised. Also I'm calling Hax.
I KNEW IT!
Let it be known that I CALLED IT!
..please tell me we left a few Peckish to guard Shogun and Nilfel, just in case!
after some thought, I've come to a generalized question: how does this system handle things like time-acceleration or having higher base stats for everything, which seem like they would be relevant for nearly everything (debate? more time to plan your argument and think things through. running? you're faster. combat? you're faster, and everything else feels slower so it'll have harder times with you. forging? you can exert yourself less, handle the heat easier, and forge somewhat faster. war command? same as debate. spellcraft? you have more time to catch lapses in the design and more attention to spare.) Is their stage just 'Everything'? Or do they not get included at all because you don't really Reveal higher base stats?Well, time for retaliatory omakepower. I'm limited to an IPad keyboard at the moment, so pardon any typos!
Truthbringer
A TRPG-shaped writing tool inspired by the fighting-as-a-series-of-trick-reveals genre. Its' focus and lucidity owes a great deal to David J. Prokopetz, while its' worked examples draw heavily from Rihaku lore.
Or rather, they would, if I didn't have to post this so quickly. More worked examples will follow soon enough, I expect.
What This Is About
This game is a tool to help you write progression fantasy characters, and make sure their powerups always have some texture. Actual playability is more or less left as an exercise for the reader, I'm afraid.
Ability Levels
Any ability this game considers - which mostly boils down to martial arts and combat magics - is assumed to have three relevant traits: Stage, Power, and Quirks. How you define a character - or, for that matter, non-character - abilities as an 'ability' for this purpose All other traits are considered a matter of aesthetics, and left to the players' discretion.
Stage is the context in which the ability is expected to be worth talking about, and by extension, where it isn't relevant. Stages are almost always left implicit in media, and as such they're one of the most common places to trip up when writing - especially in crossover fanfic, which typically lacks convenient measuring sticks like an enemy-and-obstacle roster.
So long as in-universe abilities (powers/skills/resources/etcetera) share a Stage and user, they should all be treated as one 'ability' by these mechanics. You may want to divide them further for bookkeeping purposes, however.
Power is how strong the ability is on a relevant Stage. Because this game assumes that revealing a new trick will usually result in a turnaround, an ability's Power is more-or-less equal to the number of Quirks it has.
Quirks are important details about the ability. ('Traits' might be more accurate, but I've decided 'Quirks' sounds better, so.) The typical use is to define the ability quite broadly, such as 'movement' or 'swordsmanship', and have its' Quirks be major components of those, such as wallrunning, charge shot strikes, or only having one arm.
How broadly you define an ability is dependant on how many types of conflict you want in your story. Some stories benefit from having a strong distinction between chase scenes and fight scenes, even if both involve considerable violence. Others may prefer to make philosophical arguments the primary arena of conflict, with more visible means of conflict being mere set dressing with which to highlight them.
Sidebar: Social TraitsIt's common, in a lot of media, to have what the characters want - and their philosophy of how to get it - be even more critical than their physical toolset. (I believe the standard term for this is 'character thesis'.)For purposes of this game, this is just another type of ability. It uses a much more generalisable Stage than most, though, which is a large part of why comic book villains look the way they do.
-Example Abilities: Violence-
Elusive Shrike Style
A martial art focused on baiting one's opponents into traps, hazards, and crossfires. It's focus on aggressive opponents and last-minute evasions make it a style only for the daring, but its' feats make it attractive to the same.
+Gain advantage when attacked unwarily.
+Gain advantage when you have time to set up traps.
Blind Swordsman Style
Rarely, one who cannot see in the normal fashion will take up the blade. The will to fight by hearing, or by scent, or by any means necessary, is a first step of the Praxis.
If it can be perceived, perceive it. If it cannot be perceived, strike true regardless.
+Gain advantage in low-visibility areas.
+Gain advantage when interrupting the fancy or incomprehensible.
That doesn't really defeat my point: with Indenture in particular it doesn't make sense to mitigate it for "companions" until you're in vacation time, UNLESS you fear you might lose access to the source of mitigation in the first place.That's not how it works. We already have Indenture Mitigation, we just don't know what it is because up to now it was completely irrelevant. We basically voted to retroactively make it this or that.
Build name: "I Sure Hope You Like Plants"
It also turns you into a tree unless you pick up Fiat-powered ImmortalityThe downside of Originator, as aforementioned, is the lag time required to develop relevant abilities
It also turns you into a tree unless you pick up Fiat-powered Immortality
Unless there's an Official Ruling on this that I haven't seen, it reads more like Immortality would just make you an immortal tree to me.It also turns you into a tree unless you pick up Fiat-powered Immortality
This is probably the better plan IMO, assuming you aren't into really committing to your Giving Tree cosplay.
Orm confirmed it on the discord a while ago.Unless there's an Official Ruling on this that I haven't seen, it reads more like Immortality would just make you an immortal tree to me.
This seems like a distinction without a difference. Discord WoG notwithstanding, what is the point you're trying to make here?Unless there's an Official Ruling on this that I haven't seen, it reads more like Immortality would just make you an immortal tree to me.
Decided to try an 8-orb build, pretty happy with how it came together.
Well, if we're saying Discord WoG notwithstanding, the difference between "stops you from turning into a tree" and "doesn't stop you from turning into a tree" seems pretty self-evident to me? You're going to have to explain how that's "a distinction without a difference" to me, because I'm not following you there.This seems like a distinction without a difference. Discord WoG notwithstanding, what is the point you're trying to make here?
Interesting strategy, you've correctly identified the synergies between Originator and Practitioner! Even something like Taste of the Fruit's pretty good with it, the Hand makes use of Practitioner Fingers (one could call them fieldhands) to cultivate for this very reason. Selecting an irrigation-related ethos focused on the life-giving properties of Water will also further increase your rate of cultivation. Less gifted gardeners can be recruited with your abundance of Fruit and then endowed with access to Water's Paradigm to assist you. With incentives alone it would be possible to shape the Estates' growth as you might a climbing plant with a trellis, to say nothing of your own rapidly-burgeoning bouquet of powers.Build name: "I Sure Hope You Like Plants"
Insertion:
[*] The Thousand Estates
Build:
[*] Practitioner (1 orb)
-Title: Gardener.
[*] Final Scion of Water (2 orbs)
[*] Originator Resurgent (3 orbs)
Drawbacks:
[*] Nemesis (+1 orb)
[*] Dreams of Distant Fire (+2 orbs if outside the Dominion, +1 otherwise)
Ah, the triple grudge match combo platter! The magics of three dead civilizations, all of which met the same end, now find their culmination in you: a true Final Scion. The Dreams mean you won't be totally blindsided by your foe, but you'd have to be confident in weighting them heavily to ensure sufficient scaling. Still, Labyrinthian does allow for exploration of neighboring worlds and the territory generation/greenhouse dimensions are really good. You could also use Lethe's added point to swap Practitioner for Voyager; the cultivation engine would take longer to come online (losing the annual ability's painful), but it does allow the possibility of Practice and you'll no doubt be earning Acknowledgments along the way. And you could escape, should the worst come to pass.A slightly more ambitious version of this build would add:
[*] Labyrinthian (1 orb)
[*] Lethe (+1 orb)
Yep, Immortality potentially allows you to avoid the sessile phase of a cultivator's life cycle with the right self-image. Or you could not do that, let someone pluck you, and then regenerate to duplicate the Fruit of Origination. Ideally you'd want some way to accelerate the process to not take a thousand years and would need trustworthy allies who can pull you out of the arboreal torpor, but think of the possibilities!
As a tree, would you be able to use the annual ability from Practitioner: Gardener on yourself to spawn a FOO once per year?Yep, Immortality potentially allows you to avoid the sessile phase of a cultivator's life cycle with the right self-image. Or you could not do that, let someone pluck you, and then regenerate to duplicate the Fruit of Origination. Ideally you'd want some way to accelerate the process to not take a thousand years and would need trustworthy allies who can pull you out of the arboreal torpor, but think of the possibilities!
Burrowed so deep into the fabric of this reality, and the countless textural layers above and below, that he simply could not be torn loose; each gradient reinforcing the others such that harm on one level would be wiped away by reinforcement from its kin.
are we allowed to know yet how the other Strategy Blurbs would have worked out? Foundational Syncretism would've given the Clone Hungers more of a dampening effect, but that main Limb attack totaled a star.
untold spillage of essence to counter the all-subduing aura of... Winter?
No, a single Acknowledgment lacks the requisite power. Ordinarily, the FoO being plucked results in the unavoidable death of the cultivator, the same withering described in the Originator option. But since Immortality runs on isekai protagonist powers, you can recover even from that and grow another. Hopefully whoever's tending to your grove in this scenario doesn't come to value your utility as a tree over you personally, or you could be trapped in that cycle.As a tree, would you be able to use the annual ability from Practitioner: Gardener on yourself to spawn a FOO once per year?