Hunger's ghostly form stepped lightly, gliding over the grassy hills with a smooth motion that contrasted the intense speed with which he moved. He had managed to secure the end of several knights so far, kiting them away from the others and neatly, gradually macerating each one into junk. However, his last attempt had led to him being maneuvered into an ambush.
He had desperately dodged through the sequence of swinging swords, bleeding spirit-stuff, before dashing away to safety. Now, as he pulled away from any and all threats, he marveled at the change in his translucent bod. He just felt...light.
Perhaps the ease with which he shed his mortal shell was more the hatching of an egg than the cracking of one, a movement beyond the endless heaviness of being that the Forebear's Blade normally seemed to impose. He had long since accepted it; the dread nature of such an artifact carried an inescapably real weight as a necessary component of its potency. Stealing the power of another was also taking on some of their nature, guiding meaning into a similarity between two legends. That was the trick of Abduction that he retained, despite losing the knack. And, if there was any aspect the two of them most shared, it was the weight of the world.
As if to physically escape the way his thoughts were turning, he began to push the limits of his enriched spirit. Soft ghost-light grew into a full effulgence as he moved at greater speeds, recovery and power intertwining faster and faster, until he seemed to be a smeared streak of baleful ghostfire lancing through the air. Unbound, the joy of speed pulled him across the open, green fields and through blue skies. Grassy hills rolled to greater and greater heights, becoming foothills and valleys that he bounded through, the blue sky gradually darkening, large masses of cloud blowing in. Large standing stones and irregular silvery boulders lay scattered across the new geography, forcing Hunger to abandon his straight sprint, slowing as he navigated.
That's when he was attacked by a bolt of living lightning.
----
Two lines drew themselves across the rocky landscape. From above, the clashes resembled a meandering sequence of closed figures, sides looping and arcing apart, but always inevitably returning to one another.
Hunger leapt in, his arm lashing out, a whip of flesh and steel that brushed through the snake of light. Steel and force did nothing to the plasma, but the power of Ruin left small lasting rents. He was barely keeping up in terms of pace, but was still managing to outsmart the beast, maneuvering it like a matador so he could strike at the same length of hide each time.
The snake's superior speed let it come around again and again to aim it's jaws at him, but this exposed a weakness. Hunger allowed it to approach, holding the Forebear's Blade out in front of him. At the moment of impact, he suddenly became intangible, allowing just the edge of the blade to remain solid. The momentum of the snake itself pulled the ruinous point through the weakened section of hide, opening it. His blade severed all the way down through its flesh in a long rent, flaying it. The snake halves shrieked as they separated and seemed to swell, before bursting into a wave of electricity that Hunger allowed to harmlessly pass through him.
He looked around.
----
X Forebear's Blade - Echo of the Forebear
X Conjunctional [Evening Sky + Forebear's Blade] - Paraselene
X Into the Hills
----
Slowly, as Hunger hopped across the gaps between hills, the landscape changed. The horizon shimmered and distorted, rocky foothills growing and the valleys deepening, leading upwards to a wide, odd range of glittering silvery mountains a mile high. The fake sun in the sky was setting behind them into an obscured evening sky.
As he drew closer to the mountainside, he noticed that it was not simply silver. Most of its surface was churning and changing, a constantly metamorphosing bas-relief mural, like an ocean of mercury had risen out of deep cracks in the earth, alive and reaching for something to confirm its existence. Thin lines and globs of liquid metal formed into odd replicas of ordinary plants and animals near the edge. These came into being in a second, changed a dozen times, exiting and reentering the greater mountain with no issue or fanfare. A line of wasteland along the odd temporary ecosystem prevented it from actually encountering any sort of actual living being, however, as if the real vegetation that had previously been there was wiped away.
Crossing into the wasteland, the mountain seemed to sense his presence. Waves of foreign Pressure buffeted him as the metal in the area fell to the ground and spread, into flat puddles. All grew still and mirror-like, a thousand reflections of him surrounding him. Slowly, one by one, the piles receded into the mountainside, until all were gone.
A figure began to push its way out from the mass, a bipedal shape faintly mimicking him, cloaked and one-armed, holding a piece of itself shaped like a broken blade. But as it separated fully, it shifted, growing another arm as the cloak vanished, the blade becoming a thin rapier. Its boiling surface settled into features, a parody of his own, slightly refined and cleaner, unscarred and two-eyed. It wore a set of dark robes, loosely, as if without a care. A wreath of wedding flowers cast in metal sat atop its head, and it's mouth opened.
"Hello, failure." it said.
Hunger stepped back, eye widening.
"What are you?" he said, hand tightening around his weapon's grip.
"I'm an echo. I'm a possibility. I'm a mirror, and I'm the end you've always sought."
Hunger snarled in return.
The fake Hunger smiled, an indulgent thing that could be called a smirk if it were less pristine.
"I'm you. I'm the you who didn't lose, didn't fail. Didn't falter, didn't let others suffer for your weakness."
It's face stuttered for a moment, shifting into the face of his wife, which melted to something halfway between, then back into his own, still set in that awful expression.
Hunger's gaze narrowed and he grit his teeth. "You're not me," he said, "just something this place has conjured to torment me."
The construct tilted its head.
"Not merely to torture you," It said. "After all, haven't I managed to provoke a reaction? Don't you think...it might be time to acknowledge that you'll never succeed? Not at vengeance, and certainly not at keeping them safe." It began to pace back and forth, never taking its eyes off of him. A pair of vicious, cold eyes. The eyes of a Ruling King, a Tyrant.
"Not like I could. We both know your desperate efforts aren't enough." It threw back its head and let out a dry bark of laughter. "When were they ever enough? No, better to cede the job to me."
Hunger's body clenched, every muscle tightening with tension.
The construct sighed. "Don't worry, I'll take care of your little friends outside too. I'm sure Gisena will notice, but I'm such an improvement over you that she won't mind at all."
A terrifying sense of distortion and bending Pressure emerged from it, forcing him back. He drew himself into a closed stance, his mantle of sky seeming to sparkle with the light of distant stars, an aureole of burning ghostfire hanging behind his head like his own personal winter halo. A spirit without flesh, perhaps weaker, but also perhaps clarified.
The construct raised its hand, the one he was missing, in a come-hither motion.
"Well then, failure," it mocked, "care to face The Hero's Reflection?"
Hunger lunged forwards.
----
In this one he takes Stragglers and Swift as Death, then has a different high-roll encounter and a different strong advancement. And then a really high roll encounter, damn.
A Hungry Ghost in the Mountains of Madness!
I find myself going back and rereading updates for details doing omakes. It's actually quite good at solidifying my impressions in a way that isn't immediately distorted by the chaotic tribulation of relevant build votes.
Also, holy shit, anyone remember when we thought Might's Repose was going to be immediately relevant? In retrospect, it's one of those things that makes timeskips much more productive, but is less important when we're playing such a close-in, intense and continuous dungeon challenge. Zooming into such a bit-by-bit pace for much of the quest is making our Arete gains much, much proportionally higher than they would be otherwise. Hats off to Rihaku for having the stamina to DM through such a thing! True hero.
Been holding this idea in my pocket due to being busy with moving, but I finally had time to complete it. Thankfully. Any way I can avoid Rune King is worth some effort. My life is controlled by anxiety, better to keep up the recent trend of confronting it with effort than return to avoidance.
[X] Push in Further
[X] Strong Sword-Arm
[X] Don't Bring Gisena
My opposition to Rune King noted and still standing, I'd like to use my vote and this omake power for this option exclusively, given that it has a chance of winning.
