- Location
- Earth
[X] Orm Embar
Sending you my energy!
Sending you my energy!
A Simple Transaction I
- Thread starter Rihaku
- Start date
- Original
LordOfMurder
Bhaal
- Location
- Australia
[X] R-Type #1
[X] Preparation: Focus
[X] Preparation: Dialogue [2 Arete]
Man I was listening to You Say Run while reading this and it was pretty epic. Some compelling rhetoric as expected of Orm.
- Location
- Omniverse #1345
Talk to Orm. The vote is his, now.
- Location
- Omniverse #1345
That might actually be the right mindset, though. We want to channel the Forebear in this conversation, if we can.
LordOfMurder
Bhaal
- Location
- Australia
I mean I think Resolve is probably better for diplomacy since Vanreir is more likely to respect that mindset but Orm's argument was too cool to disagree with. I think not dying was further down my priority list than I expected!
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OctarineShrike
Avatar of Mandos
I may as well take things over 10k.
Reaction circa Honor Unstained. Word count 1877 Words.
So I did some googling around trying to find out about the etymology of Alter to see if there was anything clever going on here. Apparently Alter is a term for one of the identities/personalities of a person with dissociative identity disorder. Throne and Alternate personality? It's got a theme going with Once and Future, given the theory I've been into recently about the Tyrant's Forebear being a future version of us.
That's weird. The question is who sent them? Why does the field exist? Ring to Ring courtesy or something?
Apt given how the Green Knight lost his head in Arthurian Lore. I suppose I would have taken the WITS penalty if somehow this won and the decision was up to me. The luck is also a nifty benefit given our circumstances. It's just the farking experience penalty is nasty.
Reaction circa Honor Unstained. Word count 1877 Words.
So I did some googling around trying to find out about the etymology of Alter to see if there was anything clever going on here. Apparently Alter is a term for one of the identities/personalities of a person with dissociative identity disorder. Throne and Alternate personality? It's got a theme going with Once and Future, given the theory I've been into recently about the Tyrant's Forebear being a future version of us.
For those who haven't seen, this is meant to be an analogue to the Green Knight from Arthurian Lore, transformed by Morgan Le Fay to test Arthur's court accourding to wikipedia. The Knight of Holly defining advancement supports this, given that he shows up in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight at a Christmas Feast holding a bough of Holly in one hand and a battle axe in the other. For the first time Rihaku questers who may be reading this, this isn't the first time Rihaku's messed around with Arthurian thematics, Arthur Drake had some of those going on near the end of Gardens of Enoch too.
The question is why? Because they're all Zombie Knights and Gisena can cut off their animating force? Some other reason?
The Green Knight is symbolically a tester. His job is not to fight to the finish if Arthurian thematics still hold. I wouldn't get cocky yet Gisena, there's a bigger game afoot here.
Lord Hunger would know this extremely well, as the veteran of a Guerilla warfare campaign that he is. Also, this Rankling at him may be a sign of something, the question is what. The Heartlessness points Lord Hunger has taken? His experience with the craven knights? A habit he got into after killing the maybe pirate maybe whaler? It's unlikely to be connected to Ber given how Lord Hunger happily prioritized hunting for a monster that can give him healing powers as opposed to going on the attack against Ber when he ran. This also raises the question, how was he able to rouse the rabble like he did?
Poor Hunger. Having to lead people to their deaths because you didn't have the power to make them more than Rabble must have sucked. Let's not do that again and see to it our companions are never just rabble compared to everyone else.
I guess that would make sense to you, you've probably forgotten Arthurian lore if you ever knew anything about it and don't have access to wikipedia.
MMORPG Fashion sense anybody? Did you live in Findross Art Online? Was the "Rainbow Pimp Gear" trope in order? I don't remember Sorceress fashion sense in the first "A Simple Transaction" that well. Tangentially, the Perfected Envoy Armor from Guild Wars 2 transforms during combat and is pretty farking fancy. You'd probably need a boatload of Findross to make an analogue to that though. It'd be in theme though given how insufficiently developed Sorceresses need to transform to use their powers like magical girls or Kamen Riders. On another note, at least Gisena has Sublime Attainment now so she can stop making those kinds of jokes because she can keep up with us now, yay!
In a pre snipers warfare environment with poor battlefield communication, this actually has some degree of legitimacy as a point so soldiers can recognize their commanders. In a world where people can be so ludicrously charismatic as to qualify as memetic hazards, battlefield fashion has a point again as a force multiplier for personal charisma. Attractiveness is an attack. Embrace the Fabulosity.
That's weird. The question is who sent them? Why does the field exist? Ring to Ring courtesy or something?
That's a pretty mean gesture of spite for the Ring, turning the temple into a prison for its exploiters like that while others seek to kill them. Not sure how the Adventurers found their way into the Temple but I approve of the Ring's spite. I also approve of Gisena's paranoia incase those adventurers were faking their deaths.
Convenient. Atmospheric. The Glory of Rank letting you bend the world to your will to be able to find a place that specific that fast. Lord Hunger could probably carve into the rock with his fingers if he felt like getting his hands dirtier(I'm assuming he's not precise enough to write with the Forebear's Blade) but what kind of inscription would he use on the headstone? "Here lies some adventurers that may or may not have been lying in ambush to kill Lord Hunger"? Seems kind of crass though, probably better that he left it blank.
It is also incredibly metal, Gisena. We should introduce you to the genre once we reach the Human Sphere.
Convenient. I suppose our Ring development gave us the ability to come and go through the antechamber as we pleased?
Like some kind of Dungeon Keeper who has to ensure a path to their core always exists in theory, or something analogous to that?
Hah! Ironic tsundere behavior on the part of Lord Hunger aside, Letrezia deserves some kind of souping up from us, whether it be Blood based augmentation, us getting Total Eclipse and turning her into a Sorceress, healing Verschlengorge... her current irrelevance must be grating on her.
That may be sarcasm, Lord Hunger, but from the standpoint of the voters this is an entirely accurate summation. The only question is how much of a choice we had in the matter once we came to the Temple of the False Moon.
The powerful are seldom used to helplessness. At least you're smart enough to realize not all of this is your fault Letrezia. Good for you for knowing that.
I guess Lord Hunger knows how to deal with prideful people. Though whether or not he qualifies as prideful, if he ever did, is a legitimate question.
That perked her up. Also... Itadakimasu!
You're probably going to need Gardener's Hollow for that, Lord Hunger. Sanctify the food with your own blood like a Great One out of Bloodborne. Now that I think about it, that is incredibly metal. If this leads to him working out an alternative technique with similar effects to Gardener's Hollow though I don't think I'd mind if it doesn't conflict with my other build priorities.
I wonder what this will look like when/if it shows up in future votes? Psuedo-Gardener's Hollow tree unlocked anybody?
That would be odd if it was. Wasn't Ber's Patron an Astral Lord? Also, did you get backstabbed and that's why you're out here? I've got a theory to verify.
I can't help but wonder why Letrezia goes along with this. Does she enjoy it on some level or is it just her realizing she's outclassed by the bullshit tier superhumans helping her unless they heal Verschlengorge?
Poor Letrzia... reduced to an exposition fairy by the circumstances. I almost expect her to talk about how everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.
Even if you're a smaller nation, a third of 8000 inhabited systems is still pretty huge. Also, there being a whole bunch of geopolitical tensions and complicated issues is probably understating things for nations that ludicrously huge. It'll be funky once we qualify as an Armament tier power without a robot.
In a Maslow's hierarchy of needs sense, sure. Doesn't mean the mechanics can't be really farking complicated.
Astral doom? Like the Dooms the fates from Even Further Beyond could inflict on people? If Astral Lords can pull that off they're pretty badass and in probably in need of an ass-kicking too. Also, Letrezia's Dad having a weak constitution is seriously unlucky given what he is piloting.
Ouch. I suppose that would explain your hair being white if it wasn't an augmentation because you were tired of looking like Asuka. Also, I suppose this world shares the lack of qualms some anime settings have about use of child soldiers. That seems like something to fix when we take over.
I guess she needed that? Seriously, her home life probably wasn't that great given the political circumstances.
What's too strong to manifest physically then? Astral Lords like the one that may have sent the sovereign class and Ber against her? Also... did the Sovereign class have giant flaming eyebrows? This is just begging for a Samurai Jack joke if I could think of one.
This looks like a point in favor of my "Letrezia got backstabbed" theory.
How very... Empire of you. *Imperial march starts playing*
Hah! Also I suppose suspiciously apt, given that Lord Hunger has to rule the Human Sphere as a Tyrant for 50 years. Getting the dehumanization done early I suppose to make it easier when the inevitable crushing of dissidents has to happen.
Supernaturally handsome bodyguards are a pop culture trope in the Human Sphere? Or at least the Empire? Oh god. Attractiveness is an attack indeed Imperia. Also, is Letrezia being sarcastic or did she actually change her mind about wanting a pony? On another note, that's simultaneously an awesome and kind of unfortunate reflection of her childhood experiences on Letrezia's part to agree with her dad on that. But then again between him being sickly and her being needed to pilot the robot, she never could have got the stereotypical experience of childhood that would enable her to disagree. We can't give her that back but we should find a way to soupe Letrezia up. That or get her a really ironic pony. Like the Borderlands 2 one made out of Diamonds, you know which one I mean.
We could have been an antisocial jackass with enough power to get away with it and soupe up whatever rabble we can gather into something relevant. We could have gotten Letrezia some non-ration bar quality food. It's a serious pity in hindsight that this didn't win.
It would have given the inner and middle temple residents too much prep time unfortunately.
And here we are against an overwhelmingly powerful enemy. Ouch. Let's hope the Diplomacy works.
We had to spend Arete to soupe up Gisena's attributes because this didn't win. It would have been plausible for it to win at least, given that it soupes up Gisena/makes her not rabble.
The classic, the cliche, the coca cola of upgrades. Not bad but not the time given Quickening just won.
I still think we badly need Iridescence.
Blood blood blood, the guillotine wants blood to quench it's thirst. *Marie's song from Dies Irae starts playing*
Curious. What happens after the three times, what gets unlocked. Same question applies to Fierce Quickening too I suppose.
In hindsight I don't know if this would have helped us or not.
We got the complete Murderer's Panopoly now, for better or worse. Unfortunately we ran into somebody who outclasses us the same way Kariya did Jin in Samurai Champloo.
The optimal option for buffing Gisena. Not sure in hindsight if that would have been more optimal or not.
I don't know what to think about this one.
Apt given how the Green Knight lost his head in Arthurian Lore. I suppose I would have taken the WITS penalty if somehow this won and the decision was up to me. The luck is also a nifty benefit given our circumstances. It's just the farking experience penalty is nasty.
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[X] R-Type #1
[X] Preparation: Withdrawal
[X] Preparation: Dialogue
This is the fight that already happened; back in Terrascape we had TIM defeat Arthur despite Arthur having better stats and invincible cuts. Moral of the story was that swordsman can't cut what swordsman can't see, which would apply here too. We have our bloodsight so we could use physical obstacles to block his sight(trees, plumes of dust, burrowing into the ground etc) while spamming him with curving blade winds. If he posses some form of metaphysical sight, we could cut ourselves and use our blood to mess with where we actually are, or move battle to civil area and use civilians to act smokescreen - after all, both of us are perfectly capable of restraining our collateral.
Shame we don't have Knight of Holly tho, it would be perfect here. Fall is comparatively of very little use.
[X] Preparation: Withdrawal
[X] Preparation: Dialogue
This is the fight that already happened; back in Terrascape we had TIM defeat Arthur despite Arthur having better stats and invincible cuts. Moral of the story was that swordsman can't cut what swordsman can't see, which would apply here too. We have our bloodsight so we could use physical obstacles to block his sight(trees, plumes of dust, burrowing into the ground etc) while spamming him with curving blade winds. If he posses some form of metaphysical sight, we could cut ourselves and use our blood to mess with where we actually are, or move battle to civil area and use civilians to act smokescreen - after all, both of us are perfectly capable of restraining our collateral.
Shame we don't have Knight of Holly tho, it would be perfect here. Fall is comparatively of very little use.
LordOfMurder
Bhaal
- Location
- Australia
Fall does let us attack from unexpected angles if his sight is obscured. We can jump around and fall however we like once we're out of sight throwing off his predictions of where attacks will come from.
Rihaku
The Internet
Current vote count?
You guys do now have enough Arete that it's unlikely you will go into Debt for taking Diplomacy, for what that's worth!
TIM also had the ability to transport himself via explosions that simultaneously obscured sight and created decoys, and much faster thinking speed than Arthur. Using your blood in an attempt to replicate that is not likely to work!
It lets you curve blade winds better, allowing for nonlinear attacks, but messing with his own falls is not something Hunger's had practice with, so doing jerky FPS shit is just as likely to disorient him as it is to throw off Vanreir's aim - except that Vanreir can't miss!
Mm, not quite. There are other young pilots, but they started training at a later age than her because that's what's normal. Most pilots are young relative to the military.
Letrizia's lifespan will be tragically short for a member of her class, unless Hunger does something about it! Or Gisena, I suppose...
Well, what's typically the higher rank, a lord or a sovereign? An Armament at full power is the strongest weapon known to the Human Sphere, after all! Even the Foremost used them!
That said, there's nothing stopping you from grinding in the Astral except for all the logistical concerns. It's not like Hunger is limited by a level cap relevant to this universe, except for the lack of XP-granting opponents!
He has given everything... but perhaps not the truth, as he still refers to his father's merged soul as a secret... and that, in the end, may be his undoing even if everything turns out as he expects.
R-types are beyond normal intruders; they're specifically the class of intruders that show unnatural abilities of rapid advancement!
You guys do now have enough Arete that it's unlikely you will go into Debt for taking Diplomacy, for what that's worth!
TIM also had the ability to transport himself via explosions that simultaneously obscured sight and created decoys, and much faster thinking speed than Arthur. Using your blood in an attempt to replicate that is not likely to work!
It lets you curve blade winds better, allowing for nonlinear attacks, but messing with his own falls is not something Hunger's had practice with, so doing jerky FPS shit is just as likely to disorient him as it is to throw off Vanreir's aim - except that Vanreir can't miss!
Mm, not quite. There are other young pilots, but they started training at a later age than her because that's what's normal. Most pilots are young relative to the military.
Letrizia's lifespan will be tragically short for a member of her class, unless Hunger does something about it! Or Gisena, I suppose...
Well, what's typically the higher rank, a lord or a sovereign? An Armament at full power is the strongest weapon known to the Human Sphere, after all! Even the Foremost used them!
That said, there's nothing stopping you from grinding in the Astral except for all the logistical concerns. It's not like Hunger is limited by a level cap relevant to this universe, except for the lack of XP-granting opponents!
He has given everything... but perhaps not the truth, as he still refers to his father's merged soul as a secret... and that, in the end, may be his undoing even if everything turns out as he expects.
R-types are beyond normal intruders; they're specifically the class of intruders that show unnatural abilities of rapid advancement!
- Location
- Omniverse #1345
Which means he is likely to completely believe we are capable of it, if we were to make him an offer we believe in. Interesting.
Fanwork#1276 words
Hunger passes through the Temple of the False Moon fast as swiftest fear, silent as the fall of night.
Through vaulted hallways, marble arches pale as bone rising on either side to meet in the looming darkness always overhead, so that he seems to walk through the ribcage of a fallen titan. Hallways flowing through the Temple in sweeping organic curves, roads like shattered fragments of a circle pressed down deep into the earth with mathematical precision then pinned in place by pillars the size of Giant Sequoias. Through a cathedral of monochrome stained glass, where shining silver windows try and fail to illuminate the sheer, inhuman immensity, every inch of the interior a chiaroscuro monument to absolute lunar devotion. Through a coliseum where balconies rise all about him like mountain ranges heaped atop each other, climbing into the sky of stone. Through vaults of impossible size, cyclopean architecture emerging from and retreating into the gloom that covers the ceiling, the immense, ponderous massing of stone looming over him like the nightmare of a claustrophobic titan.
It is its own world, a place where the sun and the world of mortal men is not even acknowledged, a world of casual immensity and absolute desolation. A pale world, a pure world, sterile and dead as the deserts of the moon. A whole world caught in that breathless moment before the fall of the executioner's axe. A mausoleum fit for a god.
There comes the sound of water, like the gentle snores of a sleeping giant. He turns, pursues.
The air cools, creeps through the shadowed halls. There is the smell of the water, then the silence is drowned by the sound, the roar of a distant waterfall. Then he feels water on his face and comes to a halt at the edge, where waterfalls like curtains bring an abrupt end to the hallway. A brush of his hand, parting the flow, and he looks upon the interruption.
He stands at the edge of a pit that runs like an artery or worm-trail through the Temple, one vast enough to drain an ocean. Above him, so far above him that at first he thinks it the true moon, there hangs a silver globe the size of a house that illuminates the opening from which pours the rivers.
He presses his wraith-flesh against the surface of the waterfall and finds the falling water as sure a footing as any ground. A quick hop and he is running up the surface of the waterfall. Just as men dream of flight, so salmon must dream of this; to pass effortlessly up the river and into the sky. Or the Fisher King thinks, in these idle moments between battles.
The origin of the river is a lake atop the Temple roof, of glacial purity and deadly stillness, and he realizes at once that what he'd climbed was not a tunnel but a drainage pipe. A dome that could shelter a hundred cities could birth a dozen rivers, and what would be mere gutters on a lesser temple here are mighty rivers. A moments pause, as he stares at that vast expanse of dark water and the countless windows and walls that look out upon it, then he calls his sword to his hand and sets his eyes on the center of the lake.
He passes like the wind across dark waters; looks up and sees the moon torn from its bed of stars by the Temple's porcelain claws, looks down upon water like mirror to see that as above, so below. He runs, kilometers disappearing like a dream, the wake of his passage little more than a leaden ripple in the liquid curtain of stars. He runs until the lake is all about him, the sky and its mirror split apart at the horizon by the walls of the Temple and cracked about its four corners by pale towers.
The moon's reflection sits at the center of the lake and nowhere else, motionless despite his movement. He draws close and sees a woman's hand emerges from the reflection of the moon, pale as a lilly, and he slows, for he is strong enough and the rewards great enough to risk attempting conversation. She pulls herself from the moon's reflection effortlessly, not at all inconvenienced by her pale grey dress, and plants her feet across the reflection. In that wan light her skin seems grey and lifeless, like a dead thing.
"Speak," he commands.
She catches a moonbeam in her hands and from it draws a sword of pale fire.
He kills her in an instant.
Her blood falls upon the reflection of the moon, staining it red, and looking up he sees the same blood on the pale face of the moon. He strikes at her, annihilating her, but still her blood falls, swallowed up hungrily by the dark waters.
Above and below the moon turns crimson. He looks down into dark waters and sees blood clotting into things strange and terrible; he looks up and sees the constellation of the Archer tear free from the sky and begin to fall. He looked out at the ring of walls about the lake and sees nine figures robed in darkness, tall and thin as towers, coalesce out of the darkness. They draw no weapons but only watch, judging.
A proper arena between rings, anointed by a sacrifice of blood, judged by destiny. He feels the affinity of the Ring of Blood to this place, this moment, and knows there can be no retreat. He bows, then begins.
The Archer alights upon the lake, her form that of a goddess in a knee-length tunic, her bow already strung. She lets loose arrows like comets, brilliance to humble the sun, so he leaps into his own reflection in the dark waters of the lake. With his ring he commands the beings of blood within the lake and sends them forth, arms like bloody lightning reaching from the waters to grasp at the archer, but she leaps into the sky and for a moment he sees her hanging at the apex, her feet to the sky, her bow pointed straight down, her eyes locked upon his own, and in her face he sees only sorrow.
He leaps from beneath the waters an instant before her arrow strikes the lake. He sees the arrow pass down beneath him, so bright that water glows like the filament of a bulb, so hot that the explosion of steam launches him into the air, then he catches her in the air and plunges his blade into her skull.
She dies, her body collapsing in one great exhalation.
"Save us," she whispers, before her lips turn to lilies that turn to ash that turn to dust that falls away into nothing.
He falls gently down, drifting through clouds of steam, to stand again upon the moon's reflection. The nine dark judges bow to him, then step back into shadows and are gone. The leaden waters of the lake settle back into stillness. The last drops of blood dissipate into the waters.
Not a true fight, then. The moon had given him blood, and the archer had given him opportunity. He'd been judged victorious, but only because the Archer had effectively forfeited the fight. Though some part of him longs for a true test of his skill, mostly he is overwhelmed by gratitude for an easy fight.
He turns to leave, then sees the bloodless corpse of the woman in the grey dress floating in the water.
"Soon," he tells her. Then he is gone.
The Lady of the Lake
Hunger passes through the Temple of the False Moon fast as swiftest fear, silent as the fall of night.
Through vaulted hallways, marble arches pale as bone rising on either side to meet in the looming darkness always overhead, so that he seems to walk through the ribcage of a fallen titan. Hallways flowing through the Temple in sweeping organic curves, roads like shattered fragments of a circle pressed down deep into the earth with mathematical precision then pinned in place by pillars the size of Giant Sequoias. Through a cathedral of monochrome stained glass, where shining silver windows try and fail to illuminate the sheer, inhuman immensity, every inch of the interior a chiaroscuro monument to absolute lunar devotion. Through a coliseum where balconies rise all about him like mountain ranges heaped atop each other, climbing into the sky of stone. Through vaults of impossible size, cyclopean architecture emerging from and retreating into the gloom that covers the ceiling, the immense, ponderous massing of stone looming over him like the nightmare of a claustrophobic titan.
It is its own world, a place where the sun and the world of mortal men is not even acknowledged, a world of casual immensity and absolute desolation. A pale world, a pure world, sterile and dead as the deserts of the moon. A whole world caught in that breathless moment before the fall of the executioner's axe. A mausoleum fit for a god.
There comes the sound of water, like the gentle snores of a sleeping giant. He turns, pursues.
The air cools, creeps through the shadowed halls. There is the smell of the water, then the silence is drowned by the sound, the roar of a distant waterfall. Then he feels water on his face and comes to a halt at the edge, where waterfalls like curtains bring an abrupt end to the hallway. A brush of his hand, parting the flow, and he looks upon the interruption.
He stands at the edge of a pit that runs like an artery or worm-trail through the Temple, one vast enough to drain an ocean. Above him, so far above him that at first he thinks it the true moon, there hangs a silver globe the size of a house that illuminates the opening from which pours the rivers.
He presses his wraith-flesh against the surface of the waterfall and finds the falling water as sure a footing as any ground. A quick hop and he is running up the surface of the waterfall. Just as men dream of flight, so salmon must dream of this; to pass effortlessly up the river and into the sky. Or the Fisher King thinks, in these idle moments between battles.
The origin of the river is a lake atop the Temple roof, of glacial purity and deadly stillness, and he realizes at once that what he'd climbed was not a tunnel but a drainage pipe. A dome that could shelter a hundred cities could birth a dozen rivers, and what would be mere gutters on a lesser temple here are mighty rivers. A moments pause, as he stares at that vast expanse of dark water and the countless windows and walls that look out upon it, then he calls his sword to his hand and sets his eyes on the center of the lake.
He passes like the wind across dark waters; looks up and sees the moon torn from its bed of stars by the Temple's porcelain claws, looks down upon water like mirror to see that as above, so below. He runs, kilometers disappearing like a dream, the wake of his passage little more than a leaden ripple in the liquid curtain of stars. He runs until the lake is all about him, the sky and its mirror split apart at the horizon by the walls of the Temple and cracked about its four corners by pale towers.
The moon's reflection sits at the center of the lake and nowhere else, motionless despite his movement. He draws close and sees a woman's hand emerges from the reflection of the moon, pale as a lilly, and he slows, for he is strong enough and the rewards great enough to risk attempting conversation. She pulls herself from the moon's reflection effortlessly, not at all inconvenienced by her pale grey dress, and plants her feet across the reflection. In that wan light her skin seems grey and lifeless, like a dead thing.
"Speak," he commands.
She catches a moonbeam in her hands and from it draws a sword of pale fire.
He kills her in an instant.
Her blood falls upon the reflection of the moon, staining it red, and looking up he sees the same blood on the pale face of the moon. He strikes at her, annihilating her, but still her blood falls, swallowed up hungrily by the dark waters.
Above and below the moon turns crimson. He looks down into dark waters and sees blood clotting into things strange and terrible; he looks up and sees the constellation of the Archer tear free from the sky and begin to fall. He looked out at the ring of walls about the lake and sees nine figures robed in darkness, tall and thin as towers, coalesce out of the darkness. They draw no weapons but only watch, judging.
A proper arena between rings, anointed by a sacrifice of blood, judged by destiny. He feels the affinity of the Ring of Blood to this place, this moment, and knows there can be no retreat. He bows, then begins.
The Archer alights upon the lake, her form that of a goddess in a knee-length tunic, her bow already strung. She lets loose arrows like comets, brilliance to humble the sun, so he leaps into his own reflection in the dark waters of the lake. With his ring he commands the beings of blood within the lake and sends them forth, arms like bloody lightning reaching from the waters to grasp at the archer, but she leaps into the sky and for a moment he sees her hanging at the apex, her feet to the sky, her bow pointed straight down, her eyes locked upon his own, and in her face he sees only sorrow.
He leaps from beneath the waters an instant before her arrow strikes the lake. He sees the arrow pass down beneath him, so bright that water glows like the filament of a bulb, so hot that the explosion of steam launches him into the air, then he catches her in the air and plunges his blade into her skull.
She dies, her body collapsing in one great exhalation.
"Save us," she whispers, before her lips turn to lilies that turn to ash that turn to dust that falls away into nothing.
He falls gently down, drifting through clouds of steam, to stand again upon the moon's reflection. The nine dark judges bow to him, then step back into shadows and are gone. The leaden waters of the lake settle back into stillness. The last drops of blood dissipate into the waters.
Not a true fight, then. The moon had given him blood, and the archer had given him opportunity. He'd been judged victorious, but only because the Archer had effectively forfeited the fight. Though some part of him longs for a true test of his skill, mostly he is overwhelmed by gratitude for an easy fight.
He turns to leave, then sees the bloodless corpse of the woman in the grey dress floating in the water.
"Soon," he tells her. Then he is gone.
Rihaku
The Internet
It's interesting that Withdrawal, after an initial surge, is now languishing. To bravely run away certainly feels bad. And yet the unyielding mechanics of the dice do not care about that. Participation can improve your odds, but if you want to minimize the role of luck, it'd be prudent to take the options with the best chance of survival! To neglect both Withdrawal and Resolve in favor of an aggressive two-pronged strategy may pay dividends, if you do not go bankrupt first. If Hunger 'wins' the quest but internalizes a mindset that makes it unlikely he will ever live long enough to grow strong enough to challenge the Hidden Ones, has he actually won? That would be a disconcerting epilogue indeed.
OctarineShrike
Avatar of Mandos
Looks like I'm going back.
[X] R-Type #1
[X] Preparation: Withdrawal
[X] Preparation: Dialogue
[X] R-Type #1
[X] Preparation: Withdrawal
[X] Preparation: Dialogue
Rihaku
The Internet
Current vote count?
If only he'd had the Ruling Ring! But such ambitions are unrealistic when pursuing an arena as dangerous the Temple. Its reward is the tremendous bounty of Experience that Hunger has so far feasted well on. Hopefully it will be enough to face this his most perilous fight as a Cursebearer!
Let us hope prudence carries the day elsewhere as well!
If only he'd had the Ruling Ring! But such ambitions are unrealistic when pursuing an arena as dangerous the Temple. Its reward is the tremendous bounty of Experience that Hunger has so far feasted well on. Hopefully it will be enough to face this his most perilous fight as a Cursebearer!
Let us hope prudence carries the day elsewhere as well!
Rihaku
The Internet
Man, if only you guys were more like the Forebear, this wouldn't have happened! Imagine if you'd had Dreadnought's Bearing +Iron Curtain! Tank, even if it cannot be tanked.
Though I suppose it would have taken a lot of Echospam to catch up with this guy's stats...
Though I suppose it would have taken a lot of Echospam to catch up with this guy's stats...
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[X] Orm Embar
I don't mind trying to disturb his focus with dialogue or even bringing him to our side, though I have my doubts about the chances of diplomacy against this hyper-focused guy. Not really feeling like the withdrawal combination yet, maybe my risk assessment has really been shot to hell after all this time. How are we supposed to run away from a guy with an axiomatic Thrust who doesn't care about range anyway? I assume it's possible thanks to the Withdrawal option, but I keep thinking it'll just expose our back to him.
As for combat tactics, maybe we can minimize our profile to more easily deflect his Thrusts? Rolling around instead of walking, jumping with a Superman flying pose (and controlling our fall during the action a bit to make it less predictable), doing otherwise ridiculous shit that makes his high skill matter less. The best swordsman being afraid of the worst and all that jazz, only we have the Forebear's Blade to make it look good.
The biggest problem is that he's fucking fast and has strong attacking potential - very close range seems like the best bet, as our Blade is likely shorter, but it also doesn't give us time to react to his Thrusts. We could try spilling some of our blood on his sword or arm or just all over him and try to predict his Thrusts based on his positioning?
Maybe we can surround our Blade with shearing blade-winds and use it as a huge abrasive club either to deflect some Thrusts or create an unexpected attack.
I don't mind trying to disturb his focus with dialogue or even bringing him to our side, though I have my doubts about the chances of diplomacy against this hyper-focused guy. Not really feeling like the withdrawal combination yet, maybe my risk assessment has really been shot to hell after all this time. How are we supposed to run away from a guy with an axiomatic Thrust who doesn't care about range anyway? I assume it's possible thanks to the Withdrawal option, but I keep thinking it'll just expose our back to him.
As for combat tactics, maybe we can minimize our profile to more easily deflect his Thrusts? Rolling around instead of walking, jumping with a Superman flying pose (and controlling our fall during the action a bit to make it less predictable), doing otherwise ridiculous shit that makes his high skill matter less. The best swordsman being afraid of the worst and all that jazz, only we have the Forebear's Blade to make it look good.
The biggest problem is that he's fucking fast and has strong attacking potential - very close range seems like the best bet, as our Blade is likely shorter, but it also doesn't give us time to react to his Thrusts. We could try spilling some of our blood on his sword or arm or just all over him and try to predict his Thrusts based on his positioning?
Maybe we can surround our Blade with shearing blade-winds and use it as a huge abrasive club either to deflect some Thrusts or create an unexpected attack.