A Simple Transaction I
- Thread starter Rihaku
- Start date
- Original
Full Circle
Rihaku
The Internet
Full Circle
Before you seek vengeance, dig two graves.
A saying of Old Terra, one of many Ceathlynn had picked up recently. The past months had been a period of futile wandering after King Hunger's ascent. She had journeyed to fathomless caverns and the depths of the sky, across a rainbow myriad of realms and planets in search of an impossible answer. Many had promised her the power to effect her vengeance, but all had fallen short. With each glimmer of hope, each prodigious capability granted to herself or Etrynome, she had measured herself against that man's clones - said to be less than a billionth of his full power, which she could only assume was a gross understatement - and found her estimation wanting.
At times she had flagged, resolve faltering in the face of her enemy's apparent invincibility, not at all helped by the capable governance of his regime. Was there even a point to her continued quest, she wondered, when unseating this tyrant would almost certainly cause more grief than joy, more harm than gain? The Human Sphere now was little more than a prison, bounded by walls of illimitable space and in thrall to laws whose interpretation and enforcement were equally inviolable. Virtually all manner of discourse and protest were tolerated, only because it was blazingly apparent that no amount of dissent could hope to overthrow the regime.
The magnanimity of the truly unassailable. When the laws of physics themselves bowed to their conquerer, what could the populace do but follow? They were thankful above all, for it could have been so much worse, and their lives on balance had improved greatly for the better: there was no death by accident in Hunger's domain, nor excruciating pain, nor acts of grievous fraud or cruelty that would inflict such upon many. For the will of King Hunger was law; and that law applied without exemption to all, great and small, from the humblest of merchants to the very system of the universe itself.
Nor would most object to the primacy of that writ, for each and every law was composed with a keenness and discerning eye well into the realm of the superhuman, and meticulously fair with only a few tolerable exceptions. Commerce flowed freely with full transparency between bidder and seller, and the great dangers of the physical and Astral planes literally abolished by Hunger's laws, to say nothing of Hunger's Rank.
In the scant months of his rule there had been a great eruption of the arts; every form and avenue of entertainment decadently catered-to; advancements in self-enhancement and virtual immersion technology unheard-of since the rumored reign of the Makers themselves. And save for that reign, there had likely been no union more perfect in the history of humankind. Taxation was light but services were ample; none died of his namesake where Hunger was King. The courts were perfectly impartial, in those few cases where they were still required, and the spirit of the law was intuitively apparent to all.
For those who sought it, special administrative zones existed where the laws of time and hedonic valence themselves had been adjusted, allowing for scientific innovation or joyful engagement beyond the physical limits of even augmented humanity. Even the butchered citizenry of the Republic, victims of her prior patron, was being steadily and comprehensively restored, resurrected by newly-pioneered Astral technologies beyond her easy grasp. What mattered a single Armament, a single pilot, in the face of such power as this?
This was bread and circuses on an unprecedented scale; the challenges and conflicts inherent to rule simply paved over by superhuman might. Any wrinkles that did arise were smoothed over by the incomprehensible machinations of the Princess-Regent before they could ever manifest in the form of unrest, and her individual contributions alone had advanced human science by five millennia or more. Now was a Sphere unrecognizable to a resident of even ten years past, whose few remaining resource constraints rapidly dwindled into irrelevance in the face of Allrian hypertechnology. And for those who preferred an even lighter yoke, the territories of Grand Duke Aobaru in the Voyaging Realm professed boundless adventure and near-absolute freedom, albeit at a slightly noticeable cost in safety.
When one could wrack one's brain for a lifetime and never produce a superior alternative; when rebellion of any meaningful sort was effectively impossible; when the prosperity of one's community increased leaps and bounds by the month; when even the most virulently antisocial of urges could either be technologically accommodated, or voluntarily excised - even the boldest of revolutionaries might be inclined to fall in line. For there was neither means, nor motive, nor opportunity to dissent. Who cared that the realm of their golden flourishing was ultimately a cage, when it was so superbly gilded?
Ceathlynn cared, but kindred spirits were few and far between. It seemed all humanity would rather serve in heaven, than rule even on earth - not when utopia was merely a step away. Who could be content merely to reside in a Republic, with all its compromises and imperfections, when next door reigned a Philosopher-King?
Indeed, her former polity, now the New Republic, contained the most loyal provinces of all: those who had suffered Dien's depredations and felt they had 'earned' this earthly paradise under Hunger's 'benevolent' reign. At least other territories felt some slight unease at the sheer pace of change, and the riotous abundance that had simply been handed to them; these new patriots believed they had actively contributed to Hunger's victory over Dien by serving as ablative armor, buying time for their king-to-be's destined and necessary training. Leaving aside the fact that they had, if anything, added to Dien's power directly... could one find glory even in their purported role, Ceathlynn wondered? As little more than a scale in the barding of their conquerer and hero, not even fit to serve in his ranks? It was not something she could understand.
Small mercy that King Hunger seemed uninterested in expansion - was, if anything, actively disinterested in the idea, preferring instead to fortify and augment his existing territory to inconceivable heights. She supposed it only made sense: with his seemingly limitless powers of spatial manipulation they would never run out of room, even if the three Foremost Realms did not contain effectively infinite living space; and any resource he desired could simply be summoned across the breadth of the universe, assuming an Allrian quantum-fab could not produce it from arbitrary mass-energy.
Her quest had moved from the infeasible into the realm of the quixotic, but Ceathlynn had never given up. Vengeance was what drove her; and if she had the most unfortunate of targets, that was only an exhortation to achieve more.
Perhaps none of this was worth it. Perhaps her revenge would make no one happier, benefit no one. Perhaps she would end this empty and unfulfilled, her only satisfaction the taste of ashes in her mouth.
Perhaps in time, Hunger would even resurrect those her slain comrades, after he finished with the general populace of the Republic - why not, when they had no capacity to challenge him any further?
Even so, he had to be stopped. Every iota of Ceathlynn's being rebelled at the prospect of such a Tyrant as this, no matter how well-intentioned.
If the world bent to his whims, and his whims simply changed, then all humanity was wholly doomed, shackled as it was to his domination. Or simply if he was not what he appeared - if there was some incalculable deception running beneath the surface, humanity needed the resilience to break free from, or at least meaningfully oppose, such a ruler. No mortal being ought to be trusted with power so absolute and incontestable. Even if his rule were as temporary as he claimed - a matter of decades and centuries, rather than eons - the universe would be forever scarred by his passage, his dynasty and its institutions so deeply entrenched as to be equally unassailable, with little guarantee of competence or benevolence.
Thus she had journeyed here, to the very reaches of the Epistolary Realm, in her quest for might. Here, King Hunger's law held no sway, for his forces had 'only' conquered nine-tenths of this particular territory, though his radius of control expanded by the day. It would not be long before even the High Esotericism of the Stewards in these furthermost depths would yield to his dominion, but Ceathlynn held out hope still. If humanity was ever to be freed of its new master, the answers laid in this very place, this jigsaw Realm of stories and concepts that was their clearest window to the civilization that had come before.
She and Etrynome had taken more than a few steps into the Realm of Forms even to interact with this furthest Feywild, where Astral and physical both blended and sublimated into the dross of higher truths. This was a place beyond even myth and legend, sheer vergence unto the nexus where universal precepts united far realities on matters of essence, ideal and form. Were this Armament not augmented to the very limits of Dien's considerable capabilities, even the possibility of truly conceptualizing this mere interstitial space would have been a faraway dream.
Still she was here, what little of her remained. Ceathlynn of Amarlt would never give in to tyranny. No matter what costs she would suffer, or burdens she would bear, she would see humanity liberated from its unquestionable oppressor.
Win. That's all that matters.
Before her stood the Elf, who was titled He That Slays the Night. As good an entity as any, Ceathlynn had figured, to oppose the Tyrant of Evening's Sky.
"Call me Faeliad," said the creature, whose horrible glory rent at her mind even through the shield of Totality. She stood at the brink of a cyclone that tore at her will and identity with unceasing force, Etrynome's mighty shroud a paper-thin bulwark before that awful wind. "You have journeyed far, little Maker, to petition the likes of me. By our ancestral alliance I shall hear your plea. What would you have of this Steward, incomplete though I still am?"
Despite her reservations she opened her mind, revealing the truth of her travels and her purpose.
It chuckled, shaking its head. "Ambitious, to oppose a Cursebearer, and rather unwise. Your kind always were rather impudent. I will not aid you in this, for one of his brethren rendered great assistance to me in the not-so-distant past."
Crestfallen, feeling again the enormity of her impotence, Ceathlynn made to leave. Of her tattered mind and spirit, she would recover what she could, and press on: for it was not within her to do anything less than her uttermost.
"But." The Elf held up a single finger. "I can appreciate the poetry of your request, that you would ask one of my Title for aid in this matter. And so... I do know of one who might be willing to assist you. She is farther along in her journey than yourself, and would not take kindly to what he has made of her ancestral Realm."
"I shall put you in contact," said the Elf. "This should be interesting, indeed."
And so another presence appeared, no Steward but a Maker, and she was as a veil drawn across the horror of Faeliad's fell countenance. Alighting between them she regarded Ceathlynn, her eyes like suns but her voice the faintest whisper. Such was the terror of her majesty, the incandescent sharpness of her beauty and spirit, that Etrynome melted like wax around Ceathlynn, leaving her untouched among its pooling remains.
"I do not share your ideals, child, but we may share a purpose. Praehihr he may be, but the usurper must be brought low. If you desire, I shall inhabit you and see it done."
Ceathlynn swallowed, and forced herself to stand tall. What remained of her might be eradicated, or simply eclipsed entirely by the halcyon blaze of the being before her. But that was a sacrifice she was prepared to make, if victory could be assured. "Can you promise me? That you have the power and the will to answer him in full. To bring about his end, even in the face of all his powers and Progression."
"There's always an ending," said the Maiden.
---
This will be the final major opponent of AST I. Choose as many as you like; the stronger this foe is, the better will Hunger be prepared for the Epilogue and the eons to come... if he prevails. You must choose at least one option, else won't be counted!
Each option with a majority of votes, or equivalent in arguments and omake power, will be chosen. At baseline the Maiden is a four-pick fight; calibrate appropriately.
[ ] Implicate Veil - Duties unspoken are often the heaviest.
*The Maiden is the progenitor of every Sorceress, their hallowed and ineffable mother. Never should one expect the kindling-spark to eclipse the origin flame.
*The Maiden receives all powers and abilities of every Sorceress anywhere, even those unassociated with findross. If any have Attributes greater than hers, her Attributes rise to meet them.
*The Maiden's Rank becomes 15 when manifest in this realm.
*She becomes unable to speak, though she may still communicate by other means. This may affect the magics she has access to.
[ ] Equinox Lacing - The ribbons of Heaven that bind above to below.
*The Maiden has mastered every Grace to the uttermost extent, and unsealed their power fully.
*She has Sealing Protocol: Level Omega and can perform nearly arbitrary feats of findross invocation and manipulation. This massively augments all of her Attributes and grants maximized versions of such effects as Auspice Temporal, Inner Sanctum, Hyper-Reactor and Archsmith's Hammer.
*She becomes unable to wield proper Foremost Sorcery, using findross and the Higher Runes together.
[ ] Unbidden Grace - Unasked for, but not undeserved.
*The Maiden receives 100 Arete from Ceathlynn to spend on Advancements comparable in power and scope to Hunger's current 25+ Arete Advancements.
*These will be designed specifically to counter Hunger.
*There is a 30% chance any hostile effect launched at the Maiden will irrevocably fail.
*There is a 10% chance the Maiden will be open to negotiations. Success is far from guaranteed, of course.
[ ] Innermost Sanctum - Daylight curtain drawn.
*The Maiden commands an estate within the Realm of Daylight, which complements and opposes utterly the Realm of Evening.
*Ceathlynn will have infinite training time in an area with amenities and features fully capable of rivaling the Pillars of Creation Advancement.
*She will be unable to sleep, or undertake any other form of true rest, though may still recuperate via numerous means.
[ ] Flower of Victory - Win. That's all that matters.
*The Maiden is guaranteed to succeed to a substantially meaningful extent in all her major endeavors.
*The definition of success may be finessed, and may certainly include outcomes palatable to Hunger.
*She may use the Shattering Blow.
---
Sometime around mid-July, I will be taking a break. Thus I will pause the Patreon before the end of this month, preventing all charges for the month of July and any subsequently affected time periods; you will not need to adjust your pledges for the affected time. If you wish to inquire about a private commission or any purely mechanical benefits of patronage, you can still PM me / use Paypal, though I make no guarantees on the schedule of fulfillment. My heartfelt thanks to each and every patron who has supported this story throughout its lifetime!
Before you seek vengeance, dig two graves.
A saying of Old Terra, one of many Ceathlynn had picked up recently. The past months had been a period of futile wandering after King Hunger's ascent. She had journeyed to fathomless caverns and the depths of the sky, across a rainbow myriad of realms and planets in search of an impossible answer. Many had promised her the power to effect her vengeance, but all had fallen short. With each glimmer of hope, each prodigious capability granted to herself or Etrynome, she had measured herself against that man's clones - said to be less than a billionth of his full power, which she could only assume was a gross understatement - and found her estimation wanting.
At times she had flagged, resolve faltering in the face of her enemy's apparent invincibility, not at all helped by the capable governance of his regime. Was there even a point to her continued quest, she wondered, when unseating this tyrant would almost certainly cause more grief than joy, more harm than gain? The Human Sphere now was little more than a prison, bounded by walls of illimitable space and in thrall to laws whose interpretation and enforcement were equally inviolable. Virtually all manner of discourse and protest were tolerated, only because it was blazingly apparent that no amount of dissent could hope to overthrow the regime.
The magnanimity of the truly unassailable. When the laws of physics themselves bowed to their conquerer, what could the populace do but follow? They were thankful above all, for it could have been so much worse, and their lives on balance had improved greatly for the better: there was no death by accident in Hunger's domain, nor excruciating pain, nor acts of grievous fraud or cruelty that would inflict such upon many. For the will of King Hunger was law; and that law applied without exemption to all, great and small, from the humblest of merchants to the very system of the universe itself.
Nor would most object to the primacy of that writ, for each and every law was composed with a keenness and discerning eye well into the realm of the superhuman, and meticulously fair with only a few tolerable exceptions. Commerce flowed freely with full transparency between bidder and seller, and the great dangers of the physical and Astral planes literally abolished by Hunger's laws, to say nothing of Hunger's Rank.
In the scant months of his rule there had been a great eruption of the arts; every form and avenue of entertainment decadently catered-to; advancements in self-enhancement and virtual immersion technology unheard-of since the rumored reign of the Makers themselves. And save for that reign, there had likely been no union more perfect in the history of humankind. Taxation was light but services were ample; none died of his namesake where Hunger was King. The courts were perfectly impartial, in those few cases where they were still required, and the spirit of the law was intuitively apparent to all.
For those who sought it, special administrative zones existed where the laws of time and hedonic valence themselves had been adjusted, allowing for scientific innovation or joyful engagement beyond the physical limits of even augmented humanity. Even the butchered citizenry of the Republic, victims of her prior patron, was being steadily and comprehensively restored, resurrected by newly-pioneered Astral technologies beyond her easy grasp. What mattered a single Armament, a single pilot, in the face of such power as this?
This was bread and circuses on an unprecedented scale; the challenges and conflicts inherent to rule simply paved over by superhuman might. Any wrinkles that did arise were smoothed over by the incomprehensible machinations of the Princess-Regent before they could ever manifest in the form of unrest, and her individual contributions alone had advanced human science by five millennia or more. Now was a Sphere unrecognizable to a resident of even ten years past, whose few remaining resource constraints rapidly dwindled into irrelevance in the face of Allrian hypertechnology. And for those who preferred an even lighter yoke, the territories of Grand Duke Aobaru in the Voyaging Realm professed boundless adventure and near-absolute freedom, albeit at a slightly noticeable cost in safety.
When one could wrack one's brain for a lifetime and never produce a superior alternative; when rebellion of any meaningful sort was effectively impossible; when the prosperity of one's community increased leaps and bounds by the month; when even the most virulently antisocial of urges could either be technologically accommodated, or voluntarily excised - even the boldest of revolutionaries might be inclined to fall in line. For there was neither means, nor motive, nor opportunity to dissent. Who cared that the realm of their golden flourishing was ultimately a cage, when it was so superbly gilded?
Ceathlynn cared, but kindred spirits were few and far between. It seemed all humanity would rather serve in heaven, than rule even on earth - not when utopia was merely a step away. Who could be content merely to reside in a Republic, with all its compromises and imperfections, when next door reigned a Philosopher-King?
Indeed, her former polity, now the New Republic, contained the most loyal provinces of all: those who had suffered Dien's depredations and felt they had 'earned' this earthly paradise under Hunger's 'benevolent' reign. At least other territories felt some slight unease at the sheer pace of change, and the riotous abundance that had simply been handed to them; these new patriots believed they had actively contributed to Hunger's victory over Dien by serving as ablative armor, buying time for their king-to-be's destined and necessary training. Leaving aside the fact that they had, if anything, added to Dien's power directly... could one find glory even in their purported role, Ceathlynn wondered? As little more than a scale in the barding of their conquerer and hero, not even fit to serve in his ranks? It was not something she could understand.
Small mercy that King Hunger seemed uninterested in expansion - was, if anything, actively disinterested in the idea, preferring instead to fortify and augment his existing territory to inconceivable heights. She supposed it only made sense: with his seemingly limitless powers of spatial manipulation they would never run out of room, even if the three Foremost Realms did not contain effectively infinite living space; and any resource he desired could simply be summoned across the breadth of the universe, assuming an Allrian quantum-fab could not produce it from arbitrary mass-energy.
Her quest had moved from the infeasible into the realm of the quixotic, but Ceathlynn had never given up. Vengeance was what drove her; and if she had the most unfortunate of targets, that was only an exhortation to achieve more.
Perhaps none of this was worth it. Perhaps her revenge would make no one happier, benefit no one. Perhaps she would end this empty and unfulfilled, her only satisfaction the taste of ashes in her mouth.
Perhaps in time, Hunger would even resurrect those her slain comrades, after he finished with the general populace of the Republic - why not, when they had no capacity to challenge him any further?
Even so, he had to be stopped. Every iota of Ceathlynn's being rebelled at the prospect of such a Tyrant as this, no matter how well-intentioned.
If the world bent to his whims, and his whims simply changed, then all humanity was wholly doomed, shackled as it was to his domination. Or simply if he was not what he appeared - if there was some incalculable deception running beneath the surface, humanity needed the resilience to break free from, or at least meaningfully oppose, such a ruler. No mortal being ought to be trusted with power so absolute and incontestable. Even if his rule were as temporary as he claimed - a matter of decades and centuries, rather than eons - the universe would be forever scarred by his passage, his dynasty and its institutions so deeply entrenched as to be equally unassailable, with little guarantee of competence or benevolence.
Thus she had journeyed here, to the very reaches of the Epistolary Realm, in her quest for might. Here, King Hunger's law held no sway, for his forces had 'only' conquered nine-tenths of this particular territory, though his radius of control expanded by the day. It would not be long before even the High Esotericism of the Stewards in these furthermost depths would yield to his dominion, but Ceathlynn held out hope still. If humanity was ever to be freed of its new master, the answers laid in this very place, this jigsaw Realm of stories and concepts that was their clearest window to the civilization that had come before.
She and Etrynome had taken more than a few steps into the Realm of Forms even to interact with this furthest Feywild, where Astral and physical both blended and sublimated into the dross of higher truths. This was a place beyond even myth and legend, sheer vergence unto the nexus where universal precepts united far realities on matters of essence, ideal and form. Were this Armament not augmented to the very limits of Dien's considerable capabilities, even the possibility of truly conceptualizing this mere interstitial space would have been a faraway dream.
Still she was here, what little of her remained. Ceathlynn of Amarlt would never give in to tyranny. No matter what costs she would suffer, or burdens she would bear, she would see humanity liberated from its unquestionable oppressor.
Win. That's all that matters.
Before her stood the Elf, who was titled He That Slays the Night. As good an entity as any, Ceathlynn had figured, to oppose the Tyrant of Evening's Sky.
"Call me Faeliad," said the creature, whose horrible glory rent at her mind even through the shield of Totality. She stood at the brink of a cyclone that tore at her will and identity with unceasing force, Etrynome's mighty shroud a paper-thin bulwark before that awful wind. "You have journeyed far, little Maker, to petition the likes of me. By our ancestral alliance I shall hear your plea. What would you have of this Steward, incomplete though I still am?"
Despite her reservations she opened her mind, revealing the truth of her travels and her purpose.
It chuckled, shaking its head. "Ambitious, to oppose a Cursebearer, and rather unwise. Your kind always were rather impudent. I will not aid you in this, for one of his brethren rendered great assistance to me in the not-so-distant past."
Crestfallen, feeling again the enormity of her impotence, Ceathlynn made to leave. Of her tattered mind and spirit, she would recover what she could, and press on: for it was not within her to do anything less than her uttermost.
"But." The Elf held up a single finger. "I can appreciate the poetry of your request, that you would ask one of my Title for aid in this matter. And so... I do know of one who might be willing to assist you. She is farther along in her journey than yourself, and would not take kindly to what he has made of her ancestral Realm."
"I shall put you in contact," said the Elf. "This should be interesting, indeed."
And so another presence appeared, no Steward but a Maker, and she was as a veil drawn across the horror of Faeliad's fell countenance. Alighting between them she regarded Ceathlynn, her eyes like suns but her voice the faintest whisper. Such was the terror of her majesty, the incandescent sharpness of her beauty and spirit, that Etrynome melted like wax around Ceathlynn, leaving her untouched among its pooling remains.
"I do not share your ideals, child, but we may share a purpose. Praehihr he may be, but the usurper must be brought low. If you desire, I shall inhabit you and see it done."
Ceathlynn swallowed, and forced herself to stand tall. What remained of her might be eradicated, or simply eclipsed entirely by the halcyon blaze of the being before her. But that was a sacrifice she was prepared to make, if victory could be assured. "Can you promise me? That you have the power and the will to answer him in full. To bring about his end, even in the face of all his powers and Progression."
"There's always an ending," said the Maiden.
---
This will be the final major opponent of AST I. Choose as many as you like; the stronger this foe is, the better will Hunger be prepared for the Epilogue and the eons to come... if he prevails. You must choose at least one option, else won't be counted!
Each option with a majority of votes, or equivalent in arguments and omake power, will be chosen. At baseline the Maiden is a four-pick fight; calibrate appropriately.
[ ] Implicate Veil - Duties unspoken are often the heaviest.
*The Maiden is the progenitor of every Sorceress, their hallowed and ineffable mother. Never should one expect the kindling-spark to eclipse the origin flame.
*The Maiden receives all powers and abilities of every Sorceress anywhere, even those unassociated with findross. If any have Attributes greater than hers, her Attributes rise to meet them.
*The Maiden's Rank becomes 15 when manifest in this realm.
*She becomes unable to speak, though she may still communicate by other means. This may affect the magics she has access to.
[ ] Equinox Lacing - The ribbons of Heaven that bind above to below.
*The Maiden has mastered every Grace to the uttermost extent, and unsealed their power fully.
*She has Sealing Protocol: Level Omega and can perform nearly arbitrary feats of findross invocation and manipulation. This massively augments all of her Attributes and grants maximized versions of such effects as Auspice Temporal, Inner Sanctum, Hyper-Reactor and Archsmith's Hammer.
*She becomes unable to wield proper Foremost Sorcery, using findross and the Higher Runes together.
[ ] Unbidden Grace - Unasked for, but not undeserved.
*The Maiden receives 100 Arete from Ceathlynn to spend on Advancements comparable in power and scope to Hunger's current 25+ Arete Advancements.
*These will be designed specifically to counter Hunger.
*There is a 30% chance any hostile effect launched at the Maiden will irrevocably fail.
*There is a 10% chance the Maiden will be open to negotiations. Success is far from guaranteed, of course.
[ ] Innermost Sanctum - Daylight curtain drawn.
*The Maiden commands an estate within the Realm of Daylight, which complements and opposes utterly the Realm of Evening.
*Ceathlynn will have infinite training time in an area with amenities and features fully capable of rivaling the Pillars of Creation Advancement.
*She will be unable to sleep, or undertake any other form of true rest, though may still recuperate via numerous means.
[ ] Flower of Victory - Win. That's all that matters.
*The Maiden is guaranteed to succeed to a substantially meaningful extent in all her major endeavors.
*The definition of success may be finessed, and may certainly include outcomes palatable to Hunger.
*She may use the Shattering Blow.
---
Sometime around mid-July, I will be taking a break. Thus I will pause the Patreon before the end of this month, preventing all charges for the month of July and any subsequently affected time periods; you will not need to adjust your pledges for the affected time. If you wish to inquire about a private commission or any purely mechanical benefits of patronage, you can still PM me / use Paypal, though I make no guarantees on the schedule of fulfillment. My heartfelt thanks to each and every patron who has supported this story throughout its lifetime!
Last edited:
Enohthree
Hypersane
...Seram's Jeanne probably counts.
Rihaku
The Internet
ImperatorV
The Laughing One
- Location
- The Voyaging Realm
The final battle...
It has been a honor. Now, let's win, one last time. I'm glad we went for Imprisoner True, the highest straight-up power of the choices.
It has been a honor. Now, let's win, one last time. I'm glad we went for Imprisoner True, the highest straight-up power of the choices.
Tyrant_Rayne
Probably Not Evil… Maybe
- Location
- Canada
[X] Implicate Veil
[X] Equinox Lacing
[X] Unbidden Grace
[X] Innermost Sanctum
[X] Flower of Victory
The harder the fight the better the epilogue if we survive, right? Let's do this!
[X] Equinox Lacing
[X] Unbidden Grace
[X] Innermost Sanctum
[X] Flower of Victory
The harder the fight the better the epilogue if we survive, right? Let's do this!
Aabcehmu
Confusion as a Natural State of Being
- Location
- Chicago, IL
- Pronouns
- Any/All
Every option improves Hunger's chances in the epilogue, if he survives, you say?
[X] Implicate Veil
[X] Equinox Lacing
[X] Unbidden Grace
[X] Innermost Sanctum
[X] Flower of Victory
We, the miners, will simply have to do our Uttermost.
[X] Implicate Veil
[X] Equinox Lacing
[X] Unbidden Grace
[X] Innermost Sanctum
[X] Flower of Victory
We, the miners, will simply have to do our Uttermost.
Goddamnit. Can't she leave well enough alone?
...I suppose fighting the Maiden could be fun. Can't wait to see Gisena's reaction.
...I suppose fighting the Maiden could be fun. Can't wait to see Gisena's reaction.
Rihaku
The Internet
Of course the Apocryphal can't leave well enough alone!
Zampano
🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈🏳️🌈
- Location
- Simping for DSB
I think it's important to remember that even a winning vote with just one option is a four-pick fight. I don't want to read about how Hunger was impossibly outclassed by a 6+ pick equivalent!
Might've affected the negotiation success %, yeah
Rihaku
The Internet
She's a 4-pick fight with no options, each option adds a variable amount of difficulty but they're all substantially synergistic!
Last edited:
ImperatorV
The Laughing One
- Location
- The Voyaging Realm
Do we have reroll/defensive wishes in reserve?
Procyon was a 5-pick fight. We need a roll of 79 to 19 (a 60 point differential) to get a victory with a serious injury (that we dodged via spending Arete on Adorie).
Assume each option adds effectively one pick (picks are exponential kind of, and so are the synergies of the Maiden powers so I think this is a fair assumption). All choices would be a 9-pick fight. Winning that might require something like a roll of 100 vs 1.
If we don't have whale-power to draw on, going above five picks ranges from extremely dangerous to outright suicidal. With rerolls a 6-pick (two Maiden powers) might be feasible, with a defensive wish I have no clue. All five powers might be a deathroll even with a defensive wish.
Procyon was a 5-pick fight. We need a roll of 79 to 19 (a 60 point differential) to get a victory with a serious injury (that we dodged via spending Arete on Adorie).
Assume each option adds effectively one pick (picks are exponential kind of, and so are the synergies of the Maiden powers so I think this is a fair assumption). All choices would be a 9-pick fight. Winning that might require something like a roll of 100 vs 1.
If we don't have whale-power to draw on, going above five picks ranges from extremely dangerous to outright suicidal. With rerolls a 6-pick (two Maiden powers) might be feasible, with a defensive wish I have no clue. All five powers might be a deathroll even with a defensive wish.
Aabcehmu
Confusion as a Natural State of Being
- Location
- Chicago, IL
- Pronouns
- Any/All
RIhaku said in the discord that a single defensive wish probably wouldn't be enough to meaningfully impact the fight.
Which is good, because we currently have zero, since I converted mine into Iridescence+Pearlescence.
- Location
- Louisiana
Ok so the thing is this is the final arc of hungers story for us. I highly doubt it will go "the Maiden immediately teleports to hunger and they fight" then we get one update then it's over. We will have time to do the tried and true hunger strat of progressing until the enemy is less threatening, and the maiden is unlikely to want the destruction of the human realm. Space gives us the best ability to avoid a direct confrontation and protect the human sphere from the maidens ridiculous might. I have high hopes that this will be a Dien like arc of back and forth, how could Dien compare to the Maiden herself for a nail biting arc? The point is I wouldn't expect the current pick estimations to be the one when the fight goes down, our best bet is likely to stall for archmage progression, potentially getting magic and essence and getting the initial upgrades from that.
Maiden talks with the (255, 255, 255) color tag. I think that's something only divinities do?
Seram mentioned being 500 years old, so if we assume time flows normally (it may not...) then this quest is set 500 years after the first simple transaction, where Seram presumably helped the elf he was impersonating.
Potential timeline:
1: The Foremost are crushed by the Forebear, leaving only shards, and this universe is remade.
2: Time passes. Some of the Foremost shards, like Faeliad, are still incomplete but are sleeping off their wounds. Others are just fading away to nothing or stagnating.
3: A new Foremost is born; the Maiden. She is young, but unlike the other Foremost she's not a shard, she's a full Foremost. She's still immature though. Jotarun is another example of a Foremost being born.
4: Seram shows up and does his thing. Given how stupidly huge the realms are (voyaging, industrial, epistolary, and human) it's not hard to imagine some corner where that adventure could play out without us knowing any better. 500 years pass, during which Faeliad heals, the Maiden grows stronger and maybe leaves to conquer other realms.
5: Simple Transaction I starts.
Last edited:
Aabcehmu
Confusion as a Natural State of Being
- Location
- Chicago, IL
- Pronouns
- Any/All
There may have been significantly more time between the two than 500 years. Seram's task lasted 500 years, but there's no guarantee that Hunger showed up the instant Seram left, and in fact there was probably a long period in between, IMO.
Genesys
(Discrete Mokona)
- Location
- California
how sneaky
completely normal on 3/4 themes and invisitext on the dreaded light mode