A Simple Transaction I

[Rihaku]

Fisher King

There were no prey for Gisena's blast-fishing experiment in the river, but scarce hours later they encountered a picturesque lake, freshwater glittering in the sun and spanning very nearly to the horizon. Lilies bobbed across its expansive surface as birds and bugs circled lazily about, the halcyon chorus of life uninterrupted.

"Well, this is downright idyllic!" Gisena exclaimed, spinning around to face the water. She skipped happily down to the shore, humming as she went.

"It's downright suspicious." He followed, keeping his eyes peeled. They'd spoken of fishing, and a fishing spot appeared. It could be benign, the world yielding to his whims on this small matter - a faint echo of the causality-bending influence he'd once exerted by sheer power of spirit.

Long seconds passed. Nothing struck at them, from ambush or otherwise; he settled into a watchful wariness.

Letrizia had Verschlengorge extend a hand over the water, acting as a makeshift pier. He carved a rudimentary fishing rod from a branch and some wire, while Gisena tinkered with one of the Armament's dumb-fire munitions, its fuses safely set aside.

"You go first," he handed Letrizia the rod, and some processed meat for bait. "It's simple. Flick the rod to cast the line and wait."

"A-alright." Letrizia took the rod from him and cast the line with a determined expression. "How long does it usually take?"

"Depends," he shrugged. "Could be minutes, could be hours."

"That long?" She asked petulantly. "Couldn't you hunt the fish with your physical power? You slew an Astral beast the size of a giant!"

"I'd rather rest for a time," he replied, settling in. "That bandit leader was well-equipped and skilled. I exerted myself more than I'd like. The well of my power has thinned."

"Hmph," She tossed her hair primly. "So, we're to await your pleasure while you rest? You could just as easily sleep while Verschlengorge is moving."

"Yes, you're to wait," he said dryly. "And fish."

"A-ah."

They sat in silence for a bit.

"W-well, that's just totally unreasonable!" She finally said, turning to glare at him.

"I never told you I was going to be reasonable."

"That's true... Wait, I-I mean, you shouldn't have to tell people that! Reasonableness is the expected order of things!"

"Do as you like. I'm resting here."

"Mmh..." Letrizia slouched unhappily.

He chewed on a stalk of grass. "Hey. What do you think our chances of getting out of here are? Eight out of ten? Nine?"

"At least nine, I'd hope! Both you and Miss Gisena are strong... maybe ninety-five out of a hundred times we should escape? As long as we don't have too many encounters like today."

"I tend to attract trouble. So does this guy." He gestured towards the Armament with his head.

"Hmph! True enough. Maybe if you were a bit more reasonable, that wouldn't be the case."

"Fire me if you like. I'll retire and become a fisherman."

She laughed. "I'd like to see that!"

"Point is, we don't know exactly what the future will bring, or if we're all going to make it. It's worthwhile to look around and enjoy this place every once in a while. Steal what joy you can."

Letrizia looked down, her expression conflicted. "You're right. You're right, of course, but..."

He closed his eyes, letting his instincts guide him. "You feel like you don't have time for that. That people are depending on you. That if you don't achieve what you've set out to achieve, it will all have been for nothing."

She gasped. "H-how did you-"

"I felt the same, once." He paused, thinking carefully.

"There was a magic in my second world. Hard to quantify or explain. As you accumulated power you could do impossible feats. My enemy was very skilled in it. He'd spent centuries upon centuries gathering strength. Fighting him was like fighting the tide. Endless setbacks every week. Whenever we failed, people died. Whenever we didn't act, people died. I fought him for eleven years. If we hadn't taken what moments we could, however brief, we would have lasted... maybe five or six. That final stretch, it was only the strength that I'd gained in those moments which kept me going."

She blushed. "I-I get it. You d-didn't have to make a whole speech and everything."

"Stupid."

"What?"

"'You didn't have to make a whole speech and everything, stupid.' Say it properly. What is the nobility coming to these days?"

"You! Aaah... I was trying so hard not to be a stereotype! Is this how everyone sees me, even you and Miss Gisena? That stupid Old Terra show..."

"I don't remember much. Bits and pieces. But you have to admit... the Armament. And you kind of look like her."

"Yeah. Neuron Genesis Cathedrelion, right? It's been a joke for almost as long as we've had the Armaments. I even got implants to change my hair..."

"What?" He sat up. "So you're a natural redhead as well?"

Her hair shimmered for a moment, then shifted to a shade of fiery red. "Y-yeah. I thought white was more professional and would break the association, but everyone was like, 'That's exactly what she'd do!'"

"Don't fight it. Embrace it. Then people will naturally see the areas where you're different."

"Oh? L-like what?"

"You're childish at times, but on balance I'd say you're much more level-headed and mature than she was. She always acted like she had something to prove. You're truly comfortable piloting Verschlengorge. You and he have a good connection. Though not as good as mine with my sword."

"Well," She said quietly, failing to contain a smile. "I am five years older. Of course I'd be more mature!"

He nodded, leaning back down again.

"Hey," She spoke up again. "That magic from your old world. It sounds a bit like the power of the Armaments. Have you ever heard of the concept of Astral Rank?"

"We didn't formally name it or anything. If you lived and did great things, you grew powerful. As your power grew, the world started to yield to you. First in small ways, then increasingly so."

"It's actually a field of study that I dabble in. A hobby of mine!"

She shifted to face him directly, tracing figures in the air with her index finger. "The most commonly used analogy is this. So, you know how objects within the physical realm have a property called mass?"

"Sure."

"Mass distorts physical space. Some say the curvature of that distortion is called gravity."

"Okay."

"Similarly, some entities have a property we call 'Rank.' Rank distorts the Astral realm as mass does the physical, and the curvature of that distortion is called 'Pressure.' By exerting Pressure, an Armament can accomplish great feats. It's an amazing ability! Rank gives you the power to achieve the conventionally impossible, to overturn the system of the world, to blast with awe and with fear, greatness undiluted like a blazing star! It cares nothing for stipulations or prognostications. It is the sharp bright sword of will that cuts to the heart of the matter, bringing mere physical law to heel!"

"...I get it. You didn't have to make a whole speech and everything, stupid."

Before her shocked expression could subside, he gently raised a hand.

"Just kidding. It was a wonderful explanation. Did you write that? It sounds like more than just a hobby to you."

"Mm-hm!" She grunted, her face still red. She cleared her throat. "I'm hoping to present it at a Symposium one day. The Armaments have been with us for millennia, but we still don't understand all their secrets. Even most pilots only know the basics! You compress your Armament's Pressure into a Shroud and that makes you unstoppable within its radius. But recent studies have shown that even humans can develop a Rank! If we properly apply ourselves, we can go so much farther as a species, and even as individuals! It wouldn't much surprise me if your powers operated off a similar principle!"

"A shadow in the Spirit realm, huh... Let's test it. It sounds like your society has developed quantified measurements for this attribute."

"Yup. Rank is usually measured from 1 to 10 in a hyper-logarithmic scale, though values above that should be possible. An Ereadhihr - an Armament - at full theoretical strength is Rank 10. No amount of physical force can so much as impair their actions! We've made some Armor Prototypes that manage to reach the middle ranks, enough to outclass conventional weapons in dogfighting or ground combat scenarios, though no number of them could even compete with an Armament. Individual humans typically have a Rank between 1 and 3, with anything above 2 being exceptionally rare."

"That fits my observations of your Armament as well. Its full potential is well beyond even that of my enemy at his height. Ereadhihr. The language of the Foremost?"

"That's right! You have good instincts for this sort of thing." She hummed happily. "Ereadhihr, the Elder Implement. They weren't just a weapon to the Foremost. The Foremost could harness them for countless tasks, bend realms both physical and Astral to their whims, apply the Interdict of Cognition that immunizes us from rampant intelligences, and so much more!"

He turned to glance at Verschlengorge. "Did they pull the ladder up behind them? Prevent anyone from making more?"

"Ah, no, we don't think they did anything like that. But... it's complicated. To create a true Armament, an entity with the potential to reach such elevated Rank, there's a special component involved. A sort of... Curse that's inextricable from its core essence. Verschlengorge has one as well, of course. It's called... the Affliction of the Decimator."

---

[ ] Spill - There's no way this is a coincidence. The only question is, is this the work of the Accursed, or of the Apocryphal Curse? Whatever the case, you need answers. Tell Letrizia a reasonable amount about your own circumstances, the power you command and the Curses you bear. [+Letrizia]

[ ] Keep Your Own Counsel - See if you can get more information out of her without disclosing anything about your particular circumstances. It's good to trust; better to trust after you hold all the cards. You've barely known her half a week. You can always tell her more when she proves herself a reliable ally. [+0.5 Arete]

Though you intend to rest, fishing is serious business. How much should you exert yourself in catching the fish?

[ ] None - You'll conserve your energy. You are already wounded, no need to become winded as well.

[ ] Substantially - Show 'em how it's done. [+Letrizia, +Improved Nutrition, Tired Condition]

[ ] Of Fishermen, A King - The sharp bright sword of will that cuts to the heart of these waters and brings their mightiest bounty to heel! [+???, +Legendary Fish, +Gisena, -1 Arete or Exhausted condition]

 

[Rihaku]

Praehihr

"The Decimator's Affliction," he said. "Ten percent of all life force within its radius is consumed every year."

"That's... right." Letrizia responded, eyes wide. "You've heard of it before?"

"I have it," he replied, staring into the distance. "Though it receded after I slew that pirate. One of many Curses I've taken on in exchange for the power of unlimited escalation, growth without limit or bound."

At this, Letrizia's response was drowned up by a low rumble from her Armament.

Verschlengorge's eyes flashed blue, a light so harrowing and sublime that it struck him insensate, lake and sun and sky rendered an amateur's daubing before the absolute truth of that blue, this world - all worlds - cut away like an unpeeling rind to reveal the blinding firmament beneath.

"Praehihr." The Armament spoke, breaking the spell, and bowed its head; slowly the blue bled from its eyes until they wholly reverted, mere gold once more.

"Prae... hihr," Letrizia spelled out, somewhat stunned at the pace of recent occurences. "The prefix indicates 'one who is cursed,' but with an appellation of grandeur, like royalty. The suffix -hihr can only mean 'implement.' Praehihr... the best translation would be something like, Accursed Implement."

Accursed Implement. He directed his gaze heavenward, knowing how futile that was. "Yes. That sounds about right."

"This is incredible," Letrizia said slowly. "I've never heard of an outsider with so deep a connection to the Foremost. And to be familiar enough that they had a name for your kind! I can't believe this is all a coincidence. Something must have bound you together with Verschlengorge. The synchronicity of your Astral shadow, perhaps! This could be a major breakthrough in the science of Astral Rank..."

Called it fate, coincidence or the product of design, whatever confluence of events had occurred to bring them together seemed to push towards one inevitable conclusion. There was no getting around it, no abdication or escape. He would have to get in the robot.

But for all that he was not master of his own destiny, still he could do this one thing.

"Yes. We shall investigate..." He turned back to the lake. "After I'm done fishing."

---

The winner last time was [X] Spill. [ ] None was also eliminated; Hunger will work to generate an impressive bounty of fish, but to what degree?

[ ] Substantially (+Letrizia, Tired, +Improved Nutrition)
[ ] Of Fishermen, A King (+Gisena, +Legendary Fish, +???, Exhausted)

You have 7 Arete. Choose only one option below:

[ ] El Stats - Master of the basics. A formidable quantity of raw physical attributes to buttress your capabilities and round out your weaknesses. Compensates easily for the damage you've already sustained and can move swiftly and gracefully to seize opportunities in the future.

Echo of the Forebear + Undying Echo
Sleep of the Just + Slumber of Aeons

Spends 4 Arete.

[ ] Lord Reaper - An offensive juggernaut. The withering power of the Fell-Handed Stroke imbued into every blow combined with a devastating secondary attack allows this build to strike well above its weight class, but it somewhat lacks defensive options. Nonetheless, initiative and a good offense can compensate for much. Effective against powerful single enemies, somewhat vulnerable to mobs. Extremely high rate of Experience gain if properly employed.

Echo of the Forebear
Fell-Handed Stroke
A Thousand Cuts

Spends 7 Arete.

[ ] Star-Cloaked Shroud - A greedy yet defensive build. With access to the Fell-Handed Stroke, enemies can be bled of their life and will even as the Evening Sky's resilience repels all assault. The comprehensive resistances and protection from harm yielded by the Evening Sky make a wide array of ventures practical, from dungeon-delving to monster farming. Additionally, the magnificence of that star-cloaked shroud casts its bearer in proud relief, imparts the thunder of midnight to his utterances, and thereby provides a notable bonus to social encounters. Well-balanced, yet formidable on and off the arena grounds.

Fell-Handed Stroke
Evening Sky

Spends 7 Arete.

[ ] A Curse, Deferred - The Decimator's Affliction laid to rest for two whole years. Seven hundred fifty days of freedom from a Major Curse, and the relentless cost it demands of all around you. Can there be a greater relief than this, from the burdens of time and guilt? What matters power, if misery can be undone by its forswearing?

Echo of the Forebear
Fell-Handed Stroke
Conclusion

Spends 7 Arete.

Choose wisely. Choose well. For all those that have come before.

 

[Rihaku]

Maybe I should introduce detailed mechanics for the fishing minigame...

You may only choose one.

[ ] The Rod of Ages - Spawned from the King's Scepter is this magnificent shining fishing-rod, its pole alight with the accumulated skill of a thousand old men of the sea. By their prowess and sacrifice were the deepest principles of the fisherman graven into this rod, and he (or she) who wields it shall share in those primeval instincts. Not even the canniest of loch lurkers could evade your cunning casts, and the shrewdness of your timing and devastating force of your commitment are stunning to witness.

[+Ductility, +Casting, ++Depth, ++Prowess, -Bait Quality]

[ ] The Mondo Bait - This hallowed treasure is more icon than comestible, its scrum-battered tin refilling as soon as its contents are digested. The Mondo Bait is a lure to surpass all lures, bait so fine-grained, so subtle yet provocative, that none can resist responding to its siren call. She who commands the Mondo Bait becomes a master of inciting overextension, not only from fish but from all things alive and undead. Truly it can be said, the Mondo lies supreme - not only of lures, but of all baits, King!

[-Casting, -Depth, +++++Bait Quality, Apply Modifier: Bait Transcendence, ++Manipulation]

 

[Rihaku]

Aloft to Murder

It began, the herculean struggle between man and beast, the test of patience and timing, of placement and cunning, a contest of wills as much as of strength. Prey and predator were united by hunger as well as happenstance: the fish, to nibble at bait without surrendering its life, and the man, to seize his prize before the lure dissipated.

Overcome by the moment, defiant against the fates and the world, he spent of himself recklessly, drawing forth every iota of power to bend lake and denizens to his will. His instincts pierced the waters like a great refulgent eye, and the tantalizing gleam and dance of his bait was as a thing of gold, made precious and inescapable by the will of his spirit.

"I-is all this really necessary?" Letrizia shouted, barely audible over the circle of winds that whipped around him, an intemperate halo.

"Go Hunger! Feed us, yay!!" Gisena cheered, bouncing lightly in place. She'd come over to witness the spectacle, pausing her ominous work on Verschlengorge's missile array. Hair and dress alike fluttered crazily in the wind; he wasn't sure how she could see.

There. A sharp tug and jerk on his line, sudden force as if to pull the rod from his hand.

A big one.

He stabilized, setting one foot against Verschlengorge's finger to resist his opponent's strength. Hook, line, rod and man bowed taut under the strain, a single parabola of exertion that bound them to the leviathan below. Pressure alone held line and rod together against the forces transmitted; in mortal hands they would long since have snapped.

This was no ordinary fish. He, who had the strength of ten men on a poor day, whose line and rod and hook were infused with the power of ruin, was being pressed to the uttermost limit. He sensed deep power here, vigor beyond the limits of muscle and scale. Down below, beneath the windblown chop of the lake surface, he caught a glimpse of movement, an opalescent shimmer that tugged the eye even as it fled.

"Gisena!" He roared. "A magical beast!"

She came up beside him, pressed between the fingers of the Armament. Indiscriminate fire would dispel his Pressure and the rod would snap immediately. Carefully she raised her arm and found an angle, open palm launching Null bolts rapid-fire into the depths below.

Moments passed. Gisena shook her head, hair trailing distractingly across his nose and cheek. "It's shrouded by some supernatural murk. I can't get a good lock on it."

He grunted, arm livid with strain. The steel wire of the line was beginning to fray visibly, and the wood of the rod was shot through with cracks. Sheer will held them together. He needed a plan.

"I'm going to pull up," he said. "The rod won't last much longer regardless. When I do, fire a wide area attack into the lake. As soon as it passes, I'll give you the rod. Hold the line as long as you can."

"Okay," she nodded, not bothering to ask for an explanation. An orb of concerted Nullity formed around her hand, a thrumming distortion that cleared the appearance of the air rather than twisting it.

"Now!" He heaved upwards, arm and implement pressed to the breaking point, the hollow, scraped-out reserves of his personal might rallying one last time. The fish resisted him, it tugged and thrashed with a congealed river's worth of force, but was pulled skywards in the end, at last visible beneath the waves.

Gisena swept her arm, Nullity in an arc released before her, catching wind and wave and fish alike. As that rippling translucence passed through, the beast spasmed once and began struggling even more fiercely, but the strength of its movements was lessened, now mere muscle and sinew.

He handed over the ravaged rod and plunged into the water.

It was a great iridescent creature, near serpentine in length, fanged maw snapping impotently at the waters around it. Striations of texture and color crossed its body in thick bands, pearly scales of amber, violet and pale blue that contrasted with the glittering mass of its main body.

His hook had dug deep, disappearing down its gullet, and dark crimson blood plumed steadily from its mouth. Even now, denied its supernal primacy, it raged in furious consternation, without a hint of fear in its ruby eyes.

He smiled. It was overlord of this idyllic stretch, the biggest fish in this inland pond. As had been the Tyrant himself, in light of such beings as the Accursed.

Hallowed energies swam about as it began to recover from Gisena's assault. Swiftly he drew the Forebear's Blade and in one fluid motion plunged it into the creature's gills. Its scales were dense, layered and overlapping like lacquered armor, but physical necessity left these unguarded. As it writhed, he sent a pulse of chopping force out through the blade and into its internals, then twisted cruelly, sending a second strike towards its brain.

It flailed once, desperately, and went still.

Moments later he emerged from the lake's surface with the beast strewn across his back. Its bulk was heavy across his shoulders, head flopping down to his elbow, while its muscular tail dragged sullenly against the ground.

"You did it!" Gisena exclaimed, running down to join him.

"Not... going to take credit... for this?" He panted.

"No," she replied, eyes bright. "Unless you want me to. It's only been a few hours; did you miss my teasing already?"

"I... am going... to lay down." He said, walking up the grassy incline. Upon reaching level ground, he set the fish atop it and sprawled out beside, breathing heavily.

He should not have done that. It had been an almost completely pointless endeavor. The purpose of this jaunt had been to rest, not to tire himself further. And yet, as he looked at the magnificent catch beside him, he couldn't help but feel that it had all been worth it.

Fuck. He still had to get in the robot after this.

Gisena peered down at him, amused, while Letrizia came around to admire the catch.

"You find this... funny?" He asked, still breathing heavily.

The Sorceress smoothed out her dress and sat down beside him. "You tell me, hero. What part of this isn't funny?"

He grunted, raising himself on his elbows, but Gisena placed one delicate hand on his chest and pushed him back down. "Oh no you don't. Rest now, you've earned it."

She smiled slyly. "Or... would you prefer to lay your head on my lap? Fellow Sorceresses tell me it's very comfortable. Our standards are the very highest!"

"Hmph." He closed his eyes. "Arrogant and a liar too. Why do I put up with you?"

She laughed. "Using my own lines against me? How shameless, hero!"

"You don't deserve original lines."

"Hm? And what would one do to earn such an honor?"

"First, catch a legendary fish."

"Well then." She stretched prettily, then got up and stalked around to the other side of the fish. "Perhaps I'll take credit for this one after all."

As Gisena inspected their catch, he let out another deep breath, staring upwards at the sky.

Twilight had come to their corner of the Voyaging Realm. The sun dipped slowly down the horizon, incandescence like molten wax pooling atop the waters. Above was the first encroachment of the evening dark, faint tracery of the moon and stars, the world grown hushed and still like an expectant audience. Atop his finger the ring of power shined, a burning jewel, a wound in the world from which no recovery was possible, light like blood spilling into the slowly dimming dusk.

Scraps of shadow, like inverse fireflies, fluttered around the ring-light, orbiting it steadily. Residue of the pirate captain's armor, the Astral equivalent of blood on his knuckles.

He frowned, thinking slowly. Was there some way to capture that power? Harness it, as he'd done to the Forebear's Blade and Tyrant's Ring? He needed some form of supernal protection. The armor's abilities had been impressive, even if its loyalty had been lacking.

But he was unusually skilled at abducting the artifacts of others and binding them to his cause. It was the only field where he'd surpassed the Tyrant definitively. Ring and Blade were willful items both, difficult even to command. And yet he'd succeeded completely, united his will with theirs until there was no distinguishing them. Physically they were discrete objects, but in the realm of spirit they were one being, free of discontinuity. Were his physical form to perish, would he live on in them as a remnant?

Probably not. He was too weak still. Something to strive for in time. Couldn't let death impede his vengeance.

Exhausted as he was, he focused again. Remembering how it had felt to lure the tyrant-fish to him. The shape of the Pressure he'd had to exert, its tenor and form. He remembered the hue and spill of that pirate's armor, ink the violet of midnight that rose in steady streamers.

The night sky's incursion against sun and blue.

Evening approached; there was no better time than this. He clenched his fist, and the ring that bore his name flared red, light so bright as to rival the setting sun, and slowly the scraps of shadow surrounding him began to multiply, drawn by the gravitation of the one who had defeated them.

He grasped them, wove them together with his magic and will, usurped them and made them his own. From the jewel of his ring burst forth a cloak, wrapping up and around his arm to rest upon his shoulders. It was the stars and the evening sky, a texture like billowing clouds, the fall of its drape a velvet window into night. Power infused him, boundless and inexorable as the evening itself: against which mundane force could find no purchase, and resilient against stranger assaults.

Contentedly he closed his eyes. Properly outfitted at last. He recalled the final dictates of destiny, hours before the Tyrant had slain its oracles -

Treasures numbering three,
Ought hero's panoply be.
Crown, Saber and Orb,
Shield, Symbol and Sword,
Blade, Mantle and Ring;
Aloft to murder a king.

It was a childish rhyme, and meaningless. But a cloak - a mantle - was more comfortable than armor, and its magic protected all the same. Let this be their victory as well, they who had first given themselves to shield him from the Tyrant's regard.

---

You have gained [X] Fell-Handed Stroke and the [X] Evening Sky.

Having overcome the King Fish, a feat of great, prowess, you may choose a benefit:

[ ] Crown - +.25 Astral Rank. Your Astral Rank is now 3.75, though see Exhausted, below.

[ ] Saber - Restore a fraction of the Forebear's Blade, extending its reach and sharpness with all the advantages that entails. Once per battle, may defer the cost of Fell-Handed Stroke until the fight concludes.

[ ] Orb - Gain title, [Master Baiter]. ++Manipulation when provoking enemies to attack you, or ++Bait Quality for Fishing and fishing-analogous tasks.

You are currently Exhausted, unable to exert Pressure in most circumstances, though the abilities of your panoply remain active. Needless to say, if attacked you will be at a significant disadvantage. A day's rest will render you merely Tired.

And yet, a hero's work is never done. What now to do?

[ ] Dress the Fish - Help Gisena clean, dress, and investigate the King Fish. Its magical power was immense. What secrets lie beneath its treasure-laden scales? [+Gisena, +?]

[ ] Get In The Robot - Investigate the Armament and its connection with your Curse. Praehihr, it called you. Have the Foremost encountered Cursebearers before? You can, of course, get in the robot later, while the King Fish may be decomposing now. But matters regarding your Curses must take higher priority. Affects characterization.
[++Letrizia, +?, -Gisena]

[ ] Pass Out - This mantle is comfy. +1 Arete; 29 days of A Hunger Sated remain. Wastes the night.

 

[Rihaku]

Lady of the Lake

"Found a new toy?" Gisena smiled happily as he walked around to her side of the fish.

"No. It clung to me out of nowhere," he deadpanned, running a hand over the scales. They varied in tone and texture, some clacking with the ceramic smoothness of porcelain, while others resembled jewels or gold.

"Such a humble hero," she said, coming to his side. She laid her fingers against his new cloak. Her eyes flashed, changing color, become emerald green instead of blue.

"What's that?" He gestured at her face.

"Hm? My beautiful face, of course."

He scowled.

"Oh? Do I have something on my face? This beauty mark, perhaps? It's very fetching, I know."

"Your eyes. They changed color."

"Huh?" She tilted her head to the side, the picture of perfect innocence. "But I've always had green eyes?"

"Is that so? How mysterious." He turned and began walking to Verschlengorge, but Gisena caught up to him, placing her hands around his own.

"Sorry, sorry!" She giggled. "You're just too much fun to play with! It's one of my Sorcerous Graces. A type of Nullity that requires close-in work, but can exert very fine control. It comes with enhanced magical senses."

"Good. Then you should have no problem dressing and studying the fish while I explore the Armament."

"Fine, fine! I can tell when I'm beat. Just one thing before you go. Which color do you prefer?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Mm... Green-eyed monster. It suits you."

"Hmm?" She tapped her lip contemplatively. "That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think? Or perhaps you're projecting? Afraid Zea and I will get too close!"

"Of course. That would be my worst nightmare. Two allies who won't shut up."

"Then you'd better keep an eye on me!" She dragged him back to the fish. "Come, help prepare it! Leave the studying to me. Even with the comprehensive~ defenses of your new artifact, it'd be a shame to inflict my cooking upon you."

"A terrible cook? And here I thought you were a genius."

"Every genius has a weakness. Mine is that I'm just too humble."

"What happened to empirical self-assessment?"

"Oh, you remembered?" She clapped her hands in joy. "How wonderful! You pay such close attention to everything I say."

"...Now who's projecting?"

"I can't help but remember everyone's lines! A genius has a genius memory."

The fish was truly a magnificent catch, its flesh utterly delectable and tender, melting in the mouth with a brief contact, but lacking neither substance nor chew. Letrizia brought over cooking supplies from Verschlengorge and they gorged themselves on a spread of different preparations: thick-sliced sashimi; thin cuts honey-glazed and lightly smoked; steaks pan-seared with a salt and pepper crust; and the remains broiled in a bed of spices and green onion.

"Mm," Letrizia moaned after taking a mouthful of sashimi. "This is even better than my palace kitchen's! Your skill befits your name, Lord Hunger!"

"Just call me Hunger," he said, suppressing a cringe at the appellation. "And it's mostly the ingredients." They'd foraged around the lake bed for the vegetables, which were positively violent with flavor, and the flesh of the fish was succulent enough to fully justify its bearer's arrogance in life.

Idly he wondered if claiming the ring's title had affected his cooking in any way. On the run for years on end, he'd developed a competence at preparing his own meals, though his skills in that area paled compared to his wife's.

He stopped eating for a moment, looking into the distance. As Letrizia continued to feast, Gisena intercepted her chopsticks with her own.

"Such a spoiled Duchess. Save some for the chef!"

"Bwuht it's soh good!" Letrizia whined, attempting to angle around the Sorceress' guard. Gisena, with superhuman dexterity, was sadly much too agile for her.

"Look what a mess you are! Hmm, is this the vaunted dignity of House Artriez? You've got sauce all over your cheeks! Let me get that for you..."

"Mm! Lemme go! I wanna eat!"

After their sumptuous repast, Letrizia stumbled semi-insensate into her cockpit to sleep, while they examined the other treasures extracted from the King Fish's corpse.

A pearl the size of a melon that glowed the color of jade, a message wound tightly inside of a bottle, and the enormous crown-like scale that had crested the fish's own head, shimmering menacingly with subdued force.

"Good work today!" Gisena patted him on the back. "Go get some rest! I'll show you my notes on everything tomorrow. Sleep in for once?"

"No," he shook his head. "We could be attacked at any time. I'll obtain what power I can from these things before turning in."

"Such a diligent hero," Gisena tutted, eyes soft. "You don't have to push yourself to exhaustion every day, you know! Zea and I are plenty impressed already."

A long silence stretched between them.

"I'd given up, once." He said. "I was as good as dead. But someone gave me a gift. Something I'd neither asked for, nor deserved. A second chance, and power enough to seize it. I must do everything I can, not just to survive, but to avenge myself upon those responsible for my comrades' deaths. And, to repay the being that made all this possible. How few are given such a chance as that? I couldn't live with myself if I simply..."

"Squandered it?" She finished perkily. "I understand. And that's why you need to rest, Lord Double Standards! I heard you lecturing Letrizia. Then you push yourself to catch a giant fish and forge a new artifact from spirit and will?"

"...It's rude to eavesdrop."

She shrugged. "I'm a noble. It's to be expected."

He scoffed. "Fair enough."

"Now then..." she raised a hand to her forehead, brow furrowed. "The root of the matter is not that you want to exhaust yourself, nor do you have a problem relying on others. You're just used to always pushing forward and giving your all. Perhaps you used to have much greater power, and could easily withstand such a punishing pace?"

"Hmph." Perhaps she was right, not that he would admit it.

"In that case, the solution is simple! Until you've regained your former might, let us help you more. The being that saved you, he didn't do it for free, right? You're burdened with something. A form of metaphysical doom, beyond that suspiciously convenient 'Affliction' that you share with Letrizia's robot."

"Four in total," he admitted. "The Decimator's Affliction, The Tyrant's Doom, The Geas of Indenture, and The Apocryphal Curse. Even so, a small price to pay..."

"Supernatural Curses? And you haven't asked this friendly Nullity to help you?" She pouted. "Fully resolving them may be well beyond my power. But I can at least take the edge off!"

"You were clearly aware of their nature already. Perhaps I was waiting for you to volunteer, if you were capable of doing something. We don't all have such comprehensive insight into our compatriots' powers."

"You overestimate me," she demurred, adjusting her hair with a finger. "Well, let's do this: tell me how you understand your Curses. I'll get right to work... as long as you promise to rest immediately."

"Fine. If you also promise not to throw any shoes at me for a month."

She raised her fingers. "Maiden's honor! How smooth, extracting so great a concession just so I can do more work for you..."

"You're one to talk. As for the Decimator's Affliction, your eavesdropping has covered it. I've got it suppressed for now and for a few weeks after."

He cleared his throat, and continued.

"The Doom of the Tyrant. It forbids me from acknowledging or obeying any external authority, law, rule or custom. The Geas of Indenture. It casts me from world to world, imposing tasks I must fulfill. Here I am to conquer the Human Sphere within the next two millennia. Finally, the Aprocryphal Curse... Have you ever heard of the malediction, 'may you live in interesting times?'"

She shook her head. "No, but I think I understand. A Curse that can essentially do as it pleases to complicate your life, hm? How dangerous. I always knew you were trouble!"

"Actually I'm Hunger. Miss so-called genius."

Gisena laughed. "Whatever happened to your real name? Burned it away for a moment of power?"

"Yes."

"...Thought so," she said quietly.

Her fingers gently grazed his cheek, turning his face to hers. Her eyes were the green of deep ponds. Moonlight invested them with flecks of blue and gold.

"What are you-"

"Sssh. I'm examining your Curses. It's a very delicate procedure, so please stay still! Wouldn't want your powers to be amputated."

Skeptical, but unwilling to countenance the risk, he did so. Long moments passed. He didn't remember slipping into sleep, or the airy softness of his cloak around him.

---

The winner was [X] Crown with [X] Dress the Fish. Choose one benefit below:

[ ] Superb Nutrition: The power of the King Fish infuses your insides. Gain +0.05 additional Astral Rank.

[ ] King's Blood: The limitless stamina of the Lake's overlord. Heal all active wounds on yourself and your company. For the next two months, you cannot bleed out and all wounds heal at ten times speed.

[ ] Fierce Vigor: The terrible might of its thrashing sinews, fit to part wave from shore. Gain one copy of [Echo of the Forebear], granting +Might and +Agility.

Mitigation time! Gisena can work on 2 Curses at baseline. You may spend 2 Arete for her to work on a third. You currently have 2.7 Arete.

[ ] Spend 2 Arete (top 3 picks will occur)
[ ] Spend No Arete (top 2 picks)

[ ] Decimator - Direct Mitigation: Reduces drain rate by 12.5%, now 8.75% per year.

[ ] Decimator - Huntress' Moon: Impairs all conventional mitigation attempts by 40%, but dramatically increases the number and availability of targets for A Hunger, Sated. Targets will always be at least minimally challenging or in some way exceptional.

[ ] Tyrant - Direct Mitigation: A difficult Curse to mitigate. Imparts a very small amount of flexibility in acknowledging (though not obeying) some important laws or customs, if the interlocutor is extremely courteous and subservient.

[ ] Tyrant - Trusted Counsel - A single trusted Lieutenant can attempt to convince you that one law or custom would be sufficiently valuable to comply with that you may tolerate it for a time. The custom may be broad, but not overly so, and may not be changed once your mind is set.
-[ ] Trust Gisena
-[ ] Trust Letrizia
-[ ] Trust Verschlengorge

[ ] Indenture - Companion - Add a companion to accompany you on your travels. You may decide upon the moment of transition.

[ ] Apocryphal Curse - Direct Mitigation: Reduces the difficulty of encounters by roughly 10%.

[ ] Apocryphal Curse - Tribulation: Slightly increases the difficulty of encounters, but the Apocryphal Curse will not trigger more than once per month, starting next month.

Thread participation has yielded 2 of the 3 the following options! Pick 1:

[ ] +0.5 Arete
[ ] Extra +Gisena
[ ] An Insight Into Mitigation: Veschlengorge

 

[Rihaku]

I. The Forebear's Blade

Tenfold strength and speed, and the resilience to withstand such exertions
Infuses all attacks made by the bearer with the power of Ruin
The power of Ruin ravages and destroys without leaving trace, penetrating - at least partially - almost all defenses
Grows steadily in power and refinement alongside its wielder (abstracted as an extra Experience multiplier)

[Thick as Thieves] II - ++Intelligence, ++Charisma, ++Heartlessness
[Fell-Handed Stroke] - A devastating blow of unutterable magnificence from which no recovery is possible. A powerful, but draining strike that inflicts cursed wounds from which spirit and will leak as freely as blood. Resists healing.

Potential Advancements

[Iron Curtain] - 7 Arete. The Forebear could not be dissuaded, nor could he be stopped. To dissent was folly, to resist was death. The laws of the Forebear were as natural law, and just as inevitable. When active, ++Willpower, +++Protection, ++Constitution, Ignore Wounds, Deflect Exotic Attacks. Become Tired afterwards.

[Once And Future] I - 25 Arete. Channel a fraction of the Forebear's true might, and glimpse a small fraction of his true history. +1 Astral Rank, applied externally after all other factors. Does not raise the difficulty of improving Rank. +2 Astral Rank in matters military.

II. Hunger

Imparts noticeable spiritual vigor and a thirst for life's pleasures
Cripples non-combat, non-conflict advancement, but dectuples progression from any conflict with serious stakes

[Ring of Power] - Asserts bearer's will upon the world, bending it to his designs.

[Might's Repose] - Only grow stronger, more glorious and more capable with age, so long as bearer sleeps 9+ hours per day. Life- and healthspan can be indefinitely extended in theory. Modest bonus to physical actions, minor bonus to mental actions when well-rested. Immune to hostile sleep / tiredness effects.

Potential Advancements

[Ring of Blood] - 2 Arete. Wielder fully recovers health with [Might's Repose], can use [Ring of Power] to restore health, though inefficiently.

[Ruling Ring] - 25 Arete. There can only be one Ruling Ring. Enormously increases the strength, range, and control of the [Ring of Power] effect. ++All Stats, ++Progression.

III. Evening Sky

Deflects physical attacks within its coverage less powerful than an atom bomb
Imparts 75% resistance to almost all other forms of damage
Imparts 75-90% resistance to most inimical status conditions
Grants breathtaking majesty of the evening sky [++Charisma]

-Physical attacks stronger than an atom bomb no longer count as "mundane force" - capable of blotting out the sky. Magical attacks reduce this protection proportional to the strength of their magic.
-The attack of a Rank 2 being bearing signature weaponry is slightly magical.

Potential Advancements

[Opalescence] - The soft light of evening before which all attacks falter. Improves defensive parameters. +Protection.

[Winter Moon] - 2 Arete. The cold bright orb which presides above all nocturnal wisdom. Gain access to the wearer's [Soul Evocation], though no especial talent is guaranteed.

[Pillars of Creation] - 25 Arete. At the end of each lunar month, wearer and companions may steal away to the realm of Evening, during which no time passes in the mortal world. Divine opulence and every conceivable luxury await the fortunate interlopers, restoring wholeness of mind, body, and spirit.

The realm of Evening responds to the desires of the wearer and can be shaped to induce a variety of effects at nigh-deific scale - worthy enemies, fields of unique reagents, anagathic peaches, arms and armor of myth. Only one rule is absolute: that each stay lasts seven days, no more and no less. Items typically cannot be carried out, though the effects of items consumed within the realm remain after departing it.

All Curses save the Geas of Indenture are only at one-third severity within the realm, though this does not stack with other forms of mitigation, nor impede their function outside.

---

You are free to discuss / plan for Potential Advancements and speculate on your own, but do not vote for them as they are not being offered at present.

 

[Rihaku]

What did Hunger do when he first awoke? Prioritize carefully.

[ ] Finally Get in the Robot - Matters of the Decimator's Affliction have been put off for too long. They must be addressed immediately. If Verschlengorge has the same Curse as you, does that mean Gisena and Letrizia are being drained of life force at double the rate? This and other questions should be answered quickly if at all possible. [+Verschlengorge Information, +???]

[ ] Research the Spoils - The pearl, the message, and the scale. Gisena's work is good, but you have your own perspective to add, the insight made possible through long experience and formidable Astral Rank. Though the latter has been somewhat depleted, hampering your efforts on every front, nonetheless it is critical to absorb or acquire whatever strength you can from the fish you spent so dearly to conquer. [+???]

[ ] Sleep In - Rest is critical. Though it will not relieve your Exhausted condition, you will receive small some leeway in using your Astral Rank for the day. [Exhausted -> Mostly Exhausted]

[ ] Brunch - Get the girls together and finish off the rest of that fish. Sure, one could save it smoked in cold storage to be parceled out across the length of this journey, but that would simply leave you spoiled and wanting for more. Best to finish it off with a second exquisite feast and create happy memories with your traveling companions! [+Letrizia, +Gisena]

---

The winning votes were:

[X] Fierce Vigor
[X] Do Not Spend Arete
[X] Apocryphal - Direct Mitigation
[X] Decimator's - Huntress' Moon
[X] +Gisena

Long-Term Planning! A form of advanced coordination so that you can actually buy the EFB-equivalents you want! Spend Arete now, guarantee an option's availability in future build votes!

Selecting an option ensures it will be a valid choice in future build votes, even if not directly shown, and won't disappear or increase in cost due to time constraints or the purchase of accompanying baseline options. 1 Arete per option.

Arete spent is not lost, but is put down as a deposit towards the total cost of the option in question.

[ ] Save 1 Option
[ ] Save 3 Options
[ ] Save 5 Options

Take care that you do not deposit recklessly into too many high-Arete effects.

The Forebear's Blade

[ ] [A Thousand Cuts] - 7 Arete. In the Forebear's grip could even a common knife blaze with fell power. All melee attacks made with the Forebear's Blade now apply cursed wounds. Septuples the power and speed of the Fell-Handed Stroke and allows it to be used with blade projections. Such horrific offensive power allows one to challenge foes vastly stronger.

[ ] [Iron Curtain] - 7 Arete. The Forebear could not be dissuaded, nor could he be stopped. To dissent was folly, to resist was death. The laws of the Forebear were as natural law, and just as inevitable. When active, ++Willpower, +++Protection, ++Constitution, Ignore Wounds, Deflect Exotic Attacks. Become Tired afterwards.

[ ] [Once And Future] I - 25 Arete. Channel a fraction of the Forebear's true might, and glimpse a small fraction of his true history. +1 Astral Rank, applied externally after all other factors. Does not raise the difficulty of improving Rank. +2 Astral Rank in matters military.

The Ring of Power

[ ] [Pitiless Maw] - 7 Arete. A Conjunctional Advancement that requires the Forebear's Blade. How can hunger perish from this world? So long as there is one hungering thing, it will emerge again and again to feast upon this realm of mere phenomena. Passively restore health equal to 100% of the damage you deal in melee combat, and triples the Power of Ruin associated with melee strikes.

[ ] [Dead But Dreaming] - 25 Arete. That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons... Death merely induces slumber in the wearer until the heavens align for his emergence once more. Gain access to the [Outer Sorcery] skill, by which means one's dreams may twist reality towards one's purposes. Apply the effects of To Shatter Heaven to [Outer Sorcery].

[ ] [Ruling Ring] - 25 Arete. There can only be one Ruling Ring. Enormously increases the strength, range, and control of the [Ring of Power] effect. ++All Stats, ++Progression.

The Evening Sky

[ ] [Azure Moon] - 7 Arete. That which reigns resplendent once in a blue aeon. The wearer gains access to his true [Soul Evocation], [Imprisoner], and high-grade talent in its use. Powerful as this may be, recall that the use of Soul Evocations requires extensive technical study which will be difficult to perform under the constraints of Hunger. However the potential benefits are enormous enough that it may be worth pursuing even at a mortal's pace.

[ ] Total Eclipse - 25 Arete. The numinous time of sacred transfixion. Night sweeps field and horizon in a thundering advance, halo of the blinkered sun the only residue of day. Twilight's orphaned half-brother, cast aside on the eve of creation and trotted out only for spectacle and occasion. No longer, for the flare of your cloak is this twilight pretender, the liminal glow that precludes day and evening both. Unlocks the [True Quintessence], by which She Who Was The Maiden attained supremacy over the Manifest Realm, and for which the Maiden's successors might one day be anointed.

[ ] [Pillars of Creation] - 25 Arete. At the end of each lunar month, wearer and companions may steal away to the realm of Evening, during which no time passes in the mortal world. Divine opulence and every conceivable luxury await the fortunate interlopers, restoring wholeness of mind, body, and spirit.

The realm of Evening responds to the desires of the wearer and can be shaped to induce a variety of effects at nigh-deific scale - worthy enemies, fields of unique reagents, anagathic peaches, arms and armor of myth - only one rule is absolute: that each stay lasts seven days, no more or less. Items typically cannot be carried out, though the effects of items consumed within the realm remain after departing it.

All Curses save the Geas of Indenture are only at one-third severity within the realm, though this does not stack with other forms of mitigation, nor impede their function externally.

 

[Rihaku]

Age and Treachery

He awoke steadily from slumber, the high sun of noon creeping into his eyes through a giant's upraised fingers. Below was the chirping of birds and the slow, drawling hum of cicadas, trees creaking slightly in the breeze.

Slowly, the Armament above him flexed its fingers, steam pouring from countless apertures as it rose clumsily to its full height. From this distance he could clearly see how badly diminished was the weapon's current state: the errant, too-pale flickering of runes stenciled on its flesh; the choking, muffled retort of its damaged mechanical systems; and even the bone-deep weariness reflected in its stance.

You and me both. Though he'd slept in, he was nowhere close to fully recovered from yesterday's exertions. His physical body felt fine, perhaps even stronger than before, infused with a portion of the King Fish's thrashing vitality. The wound in his side stung sharply as he raised himself up with his elbows, but it was a brisk sharpness, jolting him awake.

But his powers of spirit, what Letrizia called his Astral Rank, was badly depleted still. It was a dull, hollow exhaustion, a blankness of the marrow, his soul's sharpness worn down to a nub.

"Good, you're awake." Gisena came into view, a pale, fatigued cast to her features. Without pausing she unleashed a Tide of Nullity into the open air, then turned and threw another.

"What's going on?" Fighting through the hollowness, he sprang to his feet, the Forebear's Blade appearing in his grip.

"We've got incoming," Gisena said, briefly wiping sweat off her brow. "Some kind of portal, but not an Astral effect. And they're persistent, too! Hundreds of attempts over this past hour."

"You should have woken me," he said, coming to her side.

She shot him a cheery smile, with only a hint of strain. "Nope! Both you and Zea were out like a light! And you need your rest most of all, whereas I'm positively brimming with energy!"

"I'm operational," Letrizia's voice boomed from Verschlengorge, testily flexing a hand. "Or as close to it as we can be in this state."

"I suppose it's too much to hope they'd give up," Gisena said. "And running won't do us any good if they have portals. Well, if they're dying to see us, how about we grant their wish?"

"We'll talk about this later," he growled, advancing upon the now-forming portals. Fuck these so-called interesting times.

"I await your commendation eagerly!" she responded.

There was no more time for talk as the shimmering blue portals finally gained a semblance of solidity. Scarce had the outline of their occupants appeared before he ducked, avoiding the chest-height Tide of Nullity that Gisena fired into the occlusion.

The first intruder appeared with a baffled shriek, the magic of her armor smothered under Gisena's assault, and he swiftly followed up with a pommel-strike to her sword arm, bone splintering under his enhanced strength.

Though they'd ambushed one, the full party had materialized successfully: one man, a mechanical construct, and two other women, all outfitted in rugged armor with an assortment of faintly glowing artifacts.

"Took 'em long enough," the man whined, eyes sweeping the party. "The fuck? They didn't say anything about adds. You guys deal with those, the monster's mine."

"Yes, my lord!" Spoke the others, even as Hunger pulled the first intruder close and plunged his blade into her sternum. A swift stroke brought her life to an end as the remainder of the party advanced on him.

The male leapt forward with a thump of displaced air, his blade glowing brilliant blue before it unleashed an arc of energy into Verschlengorge's direction. Too slow to evade or block, the Armament took the blow across the torso, leaving a great smoldering gouge in the plating on its chest. Hunger frowned.

Then the attackers were upon him, a nymphlike woman wielding an elaborate sword and a cool-eyed blonde who covered her with crossbow fire. The construct attempted to rush past, targeting Gisena single-mindedly, but he intercepted it easily as null bolts rained down around them. None of them seemed particularly concerned about the loss of their first companion.

"We must disable the mage," the construct groaned, bronze armor clanking as it traded blows with him. Its internals held up poorly against the power of ruin, scars of riven metal opening at each point of contact.

"I'll give the orders, mercenary." The swordmaiden said frostily, ducking back to avoid another volley from his Sorceress. "But I do agree. Beth, as we practiced?"

The swordswoman was a striking beauty, her features haughty and regular, crimson hair and pristine blue eyes, though plain in comparison to Gisena. Her companion, 'Beth,' was shorter and mousier, wearing a hood to cover her golden locks.

"Sure," Beth nodded. The two women withdrew.

He took the opportunity to pressure the construct, accepting a blow against the Evening Sky to slice open the thing's neck. It reeled, stumbling backwards, but before he could finish it the crossbow wielder appeared overhead.

"Nice!" Shouted the swordmaiden as her ally fired, several powerfully enchanted bolts hurtling towards Gisena. The Sorceress dipped and weaved, emitting a wave of dispellation, but was caught in the arm. Gisena whimpered but wasted no time, snapping off the bodkin tip and pulling the bolt free. She drew Letrizia's sidearm and began to return fire.

Growling, he hurled his blade at the midair archer and pounced on the golem, kicking off its chest to propel himself skyward. Beth contorted wildly to dodge his thrown sword, then spun with languid grace to evade Gisena's fire, heedless of leverage or gravity. But she did not see the Forebear's Blade hurtling back as he recalled it to hand.

She gave a startled, hapless shriek as the sword-fragment embedded itself in her side. An instant later he reached her, clothesline to the solar plexus driving her to the earth. Before she could recover his fist rained down with haymaker force, ending her life.

Slow. He was too slow, his instincts numb. He was caught in the flow of the world, instead the rock against which it broke. Had he been anywhere near fighting form, an opponent of this level would never have been allowed to hurt Gisena, and the golem would already be carven scrap.

But what was the point of dwelling? Nothing to do but fight on. His ring pulsed, feeding him with strength from the intruders he'd felled.

He pulled free the Forebear's Blade and moved to once again interpose himself between the construct and his Sorceress, but a howl of stark grief stole his attention.

"ELIZABETH!" Screamed the redhead, her eyes wet with tears. "You- you bastard. You'll pay..."

She began to tremble, hair rising in an invisible wind. Furiously he pushed past the golem, unwilling to let her complete whatever technique -

Slow. A moment too late he reached her, and by then her eyes had snapped open, infused with amaranthine energy. She blurred, tearing into him, Celtic knot of her sword pulsing as it pressed against his cloak of stars. Her blade sang as it moved, a mournful hum that intensified steadily, increasing her own speed until she dissolved into a whirlwind of slashing strokes.

"My name is Seralize vi Esterarc. And I am your end, monster. It's not about the money or even the glory. I'LL AVENGE HER IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"

How many times had he proclaimed similarly, when faced with the Tyrant's cruelty? Had he sounded so ridiculous? The fact that she was distracted by her monologue was the only reason he was able to keep her at bay.

Gisena tried to assist, darting to the side, probing for an angle. The badly-damaged construct doggedly followed her, forcing her to disengage.

The force of Seralize's hatred was as a palpable thing. It suppressed his initiative and lent unnatural sharpness to her blows. Her sword fell upon him from all angles, grazing neck and cheek, nicking his ear, scraping against his forehead to send blood into his eye. The Evening Sky lent his flesh the same impossible resistance he'd faced against the pirate captain, else he would have died threefold in one exchange.

Was he any better than the Tyrant, in the end? Was vengeance alone a goal worthy of all this?

He jumped back slightly, resignation coming over his features. There was not much left in him, but if he exerted all he had, could he reach her, just this once?

"I get it," he said, looking his would-be murderer directly in the eye. "And I'm sorry."

She nodded bitterly. "As it should be."

With a final vengeful roar, she thrust forward, the gleam of her blade like a falling star. He made no move to intercept, stepping into the blow, taking it into his side, all but collapsing on her.

As the blade sprouted from his back, she let out a grim, tremulous sigh of catharsis, then began to pull her sword free for the finishing blow. The weight of his cloak was like a leaden mantle around them.

Still caught in that impromptu embrace, she was unable to evade when he stabbed her in the spine. The Evening Sky billowed and swarmed, holding her longsword in place to prevent further damage, blanketing them and smothering them, gentle dying of the light. Grimly he twisted his blade, cutting flesh and spirit, fell energies severing body from mind, soul from essence. A mortal wound.

Strike a thousand times, or strike one blow that tells.

"Hate..." she rasped, blood flecking his cheek. "I... hate you..."

He closed his eyes. "I know."

He tore free the Forebear's Blade and cut off her head.

Age and treachery, the Tyrant had told him once. Against such forces as that, what was the vigor of youth? Merely the purposeless guttering of an over-bright flame.

By walking into her strike, controlling the angle, he'd directed the blow down the path of his existing wound, minimizing the damage. Still, the pain was intense even under the soporific numbness of the Evening Sky. She'd widened the cut broadly and managed to nick his intestines. Not a wound that would trouble him much, if he were at full strength. As it was...

Letrizia screamed in pain, and his head snapped around to take in his companions.

Gisena had worn down the construct, which looked to be on its last legs, though she'd taken a nasty scrape from its claws. Verschlengorge was tottering, brought to one knee by the onslaught of bright blue energies hounding it.

Letrizia's opponent nodded to himself as he struck, his eyes steady and calculating, baiting her into an overhead swing before darting sideways to target the joints. Even the Armament's cockpit was exposed, smoke rising steadily from its insides. As he fought, the intruder spoke, an incessant stream of affirmational nonsense mixed with strange jargon.

"C'mon Ber, you've got this. Patterns are down solid. One last phase and it's payday. Just gotta do like you do, only it's real life. Done it a hundred times..."

The last invader spared a glance for them, and briefly paused in shock to see his companions scattered and lifeless. His body was not bare of wounds either; cuts and burns covered his skin, and his left shoulder was one enormous bruise, though compared to Verschlengorge he seemed able and hale. He leapt back, dodging a translucent wave from Gisena, scanning the three of them rapidly.

"Even Sera? She's allowed to die? Shitfuck. Should have known an Astral Lord would try to fuck me, no matter how shiny the prize." He mumbled to himself, sword raised in a guard position. "Assess."

Hunger frowned. It almost sounded like this guy had come from Earth, or a realm like it. Not that it mattered at this juncture. Gently extracting the now-dull steel of Seralize's longsword, he prepared to advance on the man. Warmth from the ring on his finger, sending power down his arm. Warmth from the wound as well, leaking strength down his side.

Idly he wondered if he could actually defeat this man. He was getting light-headed. Convincing Seralize had taken too much out of him.

"Information not found..." the intruder whispered, eyes going wide. "System, what the fuck is this? Some kind of hidden boss bullshit?"

Evading another Tide of Nullity, their enemy shook his head. "Fuck it. Gotta bail, come back when I'm higher level. Hey, fuckwad!"

He pointed his sword at Hunger, its flat the cold, unending blue of a cloudless sky. "You're dead, okay? All of you. No one kills my... friends and lives to talk about it. See ya."

So saying, he launched a torrential strike directly at Letrizia's cockpit, a sky-furrowing wave of blue that devoured the land as it traveled. Hunger and Gisena both moved to intercept, but even her focused Nullity only diminished the attack.

Panting in exhaustion, the invader gestured listlessly again. A portal of the same color quickly engulfed him.

Hunger hurled himself at the remnants of the attack, cloak fully spread, managing to divert it off-course, though his arm was seared very nearly to the bone. Gisena approached quickly, holding her bleeding arm.

"Check on Letrizia," he grunted, collapsing. "I'll be fine."

"On it!" Gisena said, running her fingers gently over his shoulder before sprinting for the Armament.

Letrizia was hurt, her left side marred by burns. Gisena carefully set her down on the grass and opened the medical kit. The young duchess whined, twisting away from her ministrations.

"I can stabilize her," Gisena began worriedly, "but she won't be in any fit state to travel. What do you think we should do?"

---

Last time the winner was [X] Sleep In. I'm still calculating the winner of the long-term planning vote, but it was a 25 Arete option so it's not particularly relevant for this post.

Given what he said, this particular enemy ('Ber?') wouldn't be returning for some time. Therefore...

[ ] Recuperate - Rest for now until the Exhausted and Tired conditions clear, then continue onwards without diverging from the plan. It's likely you'll outscale this particular enemy without any special actions. Don't get distracted and focus on your own Progression.

[ ] Press the Attack - By analyzing magical remnants, Gisena should be able to discern the origin point of the enemy's portals. Take over Letrizia's care while she does so, then prepare to hunt this foe with all due haste. He has powerful magics of his own and some form of... video-game based 'system' to manage it. A threat like that must be pursued to its conclusion. Rest until the Exhausted condition clears and then begin the hunt.

[ ] Hunt for Healing - Your battle hasn't given you any abilities that would help you heal Letrizia. Strike out into the wilderness until you kill something that gives you the capability. Navigation will be difficult in your state, but you've some power remaining from your recent victories. A risk, but one you're willing to bear to ensure that Letrizia recovers unharmed.

---

You are currently at 61% Health and 84% effectiveness. You are Exhausted again. Choose 2, or 3 if Fury is picked. You have 5.9 Arete.

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Echo of the Forebear - Cloud-shadow of the Forebear's might. Legendary strength and speed, and the resilience to exert them. Can be taken multiple times. [+Might, +Agility]

[ ] Evening Sky - Opalescence - The soft light of evening before which all attacks falter. Improves defensive parameters. [+Protection]

[ ] Hunger - Ring of Blood - 2 Arete. Wielder fully recovers health with [Might's Repose], can use [Ring of Power] to restore health, though inefficiently.

-Do note that [Ring of Power] cannot be effectively used while Exhausted, so this will not heal Letrizia in the short term. It will heal your near-incinerated arm when you sleep, however.

[ ] Evening Sky - Amaranth Star - 2 Arete. Swift fury of vengeance unshackled, and its unremitting resolve. Exhausted and Tired Conditions are 25% less severe. [+++Agility]

[ ] Hunger - Scent of Prey. A single drop of blood will set predators to swarming. When hunting a target, gain an instinctual sixth sense for its distance and bearing. Existing knowledge may yield superior accuracy. [2 picks]

-For example, 'Ber,' the human swordsman who wields blue energy and constantly mutters to himself, would yield a more accurate bearing than 'A creature I can kill to develop healing capabilities for Letrizia,' though the latter would at least give you a vague direction.

[ ] Feat - Age and Treachery. Gain +.25 Rank. [2 picks]

[ ] Forebear's Blade - What Rains May Come. To strike at him would arouse his disdain. To strike at his loved ones, would arouse his ire. Once per month, transfer wounds caused by the hand of another from an ally to yourself. Reverse wound penalties, except from those inflicted by your own hand. [3 picks]

Thread Participation has yielded a bonus. Please choose one:

[ ] Coldly Calculating - +.75 Arete
[ ] Fury - +1 pick above
[ ] Wolf Moon - 'Ber' becomes a valid target for A Hunger, Sated.

 

[Rihaku]

Hunter Hunted

The winning vote was [X] Hunt for Healing with [X] Amaranth Star, Age and Treachery. You have spent 2 Arete on Amaranth Star and 1 Arete deposited into [X] Once and Future. You may purchase [X] Once And Future for 24 Arete at any spending point, including (theoretically) this one.

Hunger pursued a monster to find healing for his companion. Which suitable creature did he encounter?

[ ] The Plumed Offering - Hunger encountered a group of traders who, stunned by his force of personality and breathtaking appearance, happily traded him a magnificent regenerating creature for the King Fish's Scale and meat. The tormented beast had spent its life regularly being carved for steaks and was relieved to experience the blissful release of death.

100% Chance of Uneventful Victory
+0.5 Arete, 1 Selection
Time Spent: 4 Hours
Lose King Fish's Scale
Lose King Fish Meat
Gain Money

[ ] The Mire Wolf - Deep in the swamps at the far edge of the lake lay a legendary predator: part direwolf, part alligator, whose fangs were ivory daggers, whose flesh was stone carapace, the shock of its tail a dragon's thrashing. Feared for its nigh-unkillable resilience and dogged pursuit of prey, but Hunger drew it out and in prolonged battle slew it, the Fell-Handed Stroke and power of Ruin too much for even its undying thews to withstand.

80% Chance of Uneventful Victory
20% Chance of Complication (an unhealable wound, poison, or some other moderately inconvenient long-term debuff)
No Arete, 2 Selections
Time Spent: Only 2 Hours! Minimal chance of Gisena / Letrizia being attacked, as you're close by anyway.

[ ] The Tyrant Beast - Of course the Apocryphal Curse would strike once again when he was wounded and separated from his allies. Nonetheless Hunger mustered all his remaining strength to oppose the creature which reminded him so much of the man he gave everything to slay. Its towering bulk, its claws like drawn sabers, its scales like congealed lead - all paled before the glint of cold experience in its eye, evaluating him as rival or prize.

50% Chance of Uneventful Victory
30% Chance of Complication
10% Chance of Grievous Complication (very inconvenient long-term debuff)
10% Chance of Death

+1 Arete, 2 Selections
+0.25 Astral Rank if successful
Reduced % of Apocryphal Curse for 2 weeks
Resets A Hunger, Sated (gain ~2 days)
Time Spent: 10 Hours. Letrizia will suffer some minor permanent damage, nothing that would noticeably impair her. Reversible with Pristine Star and similar effects.

Less risky creatures more attuned to pure healing exist, but were not available because Scent of Prey was not chosen. However, high Charisma enabled The Plumed Offering.

---

We will use the forum dice roller for these checks, so bear that in mind. You presently have about 5 Arete, plus whatever you gained from the choice above.

Which healing abilities did he acquire in the process? Select 1 if you picked The Plumed Offering and 2 if you chose any other creature.

[ ] Evening Sky - Pristine Star - The wearer and those regularly in his presence will always heal completely, without complications or scarring, even from grievous or amputating wounds. Grants resistance to illness and disease. Healing is somewhat accelerated, in that one may expect to recover from even the worst of survivable injuries in about two weeks.

Enemy effects may contest this.

-- 2 Arete Options --

[ ] Evening Sky - Shine Bright - 2 Arete. The wearer can slowly (over the course of several minutes) heal most forms of wound, illness and disease in others. Sustainable in moderation, draining if overused. Creates noticeable illumination, useful in dungeons but can attract attention. Does not work on the wearer. Greater Charisma modestly improves healing efficacy, speed, stamina cost.

Unlocks a path of findross related research.

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Second Stage - 2 Arete. Those who believed the Forebear felled were in for an unpleasant surprise. Upon reaching 0% health, instead of dying manifest as your Second Stage, a being of wraithflesh and shadow that pierces the curtain of the real. If your Second Stage is not slain, revert to your ordinary human form, fully healed, after a night has passed. Second Stage has [-Strength, +Agility], weakness to certain uncommon types of damage, and minor phasing abilities. Your Artifacts phase with you.

Pre-requisite for Form of Rage. Pre-requisite for Final Form. Second Stage prevents most forms of overflow damage.

-- 7 Arete Options --

[ ] Forebear's Blade - Echo of the Forebear + Undying Echo + Undying Vanguard - 7 Arete. Taking Echo of the Forebear (1 pick) and Undying Echo (2 Arete) unlocks Undying Vanguard (upgrade to Undying Echo, 5 Arete).

Where tread the Forebear, his men would not fall, for the shadow of his presence could turn even death aside. And for his most stalwart servants, the reach of his shadow spanned continents and worlds.

Choose up to 5 companions whose true Astral Ranks do not exceed your own. They receive bonus Protection, Constitution and regeneration depending on both your relative power levels and their level of loyalty to you. A highly loyal companion would be about as difficult to kill as you yourself are, including the effects of your Artifacts. [+Might, +Agility, +++Constitution]

You personally don't receive any healing from this, though the extra Constitution will increase your effective health. While this offers comprehensive protection to your companions, it is expensive protection that does not really help you scale.

[ ] Hunger - Pitiless Maw - 7 Arete. A Conjunctional Advancement that requires the Forebear's Blade. How can hunger perish from this world? So long as there is one hungering thing, it will emerge again and again to feast upon this realm of mere phenomena. Passively restore health equal to 100% of the damage you deal in melee combat, and triples the Power of Ruin associated with melee strikes.

This average rate of healing offered by this effect vastly surpasses that offered by the other effects here. This is compounded by the additional armor-penetrating effect of tripled Ruin. It doesn't help you heal Letrizia, but you'll be able to heal yourself and protect her much more effectively while she's recuperating! Incredible sustain that lets you take on armies of moderately weaker enemies, and even stronger enemies without powerful burst attacks may struggle to fell you. Beware the melee range limitation, however.

 

[Rihaku]

Wolf Moon

Letrizia was hurt and they had no means of supernatural healing. Gisena as well, though not so profoundly. His own state was nothing to envy; the charred husk of his arm could barely maintain its grip on the Forebear's Blade. Despite all they had lost, there had been gain as well. He was beginning to better understand the power of Progression that manifested in him, the lens through which it channeled his growth.

With each enemy beaten he grew in power. He could use that power to spin away parts of that enemy's legacy, taking them for his own. The jackal-dragon had given him a dragon's longevity. The King Fish, its furious might. The pirate captain's armor had become his cloak of stars. Already some fraction of Seralize's speed had invested him, reflexes heightened to keening sharpness.

That wasn't all. He could direct that power towards an existing aspect of his panoply instead, enhancing the Blade's destructive might or his Evening Sky's protection.

If he could find a beast with the power of healing and harvest its strength for his own, Letrizia's left side could be mended. She would not suffer the horrific pain and permanent damage of her burns. It was more than worth the risk.

"Watch her," he told Gisena. "I'll find something that can heal."

"All right," Gisena said quietly. She laid a hand on his own. "I'll keep her safe. Don't push yourself too hard, hero."

He smiled. "Look who's talking. Next time, just wake us up instead of spending an hour blasting away at the empty air."

"And interrupt your beauty sleep? I couldn't bring myself to do that. But don't worry, all I'm going to do is sit here and wait! The very picture of restraint and poise." She winked.

"Good."

He sped off, tacking past the lake and into the wetland mire beyond, past the murk and gloom of woods thick with rot, the sea-brine estuary wind stinging his nose and cheeks. Deep in the swamp he felled creature after creature, cleaving stringy muscle and shell-sloughed carapace in pursuit of his monstrous grail. This was not blind ambition: the murder of Seralize had restored a portion of his Rank alongside his speed, and he willed now the same world that had given him the Lake produce a monster worth the killing.

After an hour's steady slaughter it finally appeared, roused by commotion or simple deprivation of prey. A sinuous fusion of direwolf and alligator, its fangs ivory knives, its flesh living stone, with a tail of corded muscle half again its length. Ghostfire flickered in its eyes, and every wound he struck seemed hollow and inconsequential, the flesh separate from the animating force.

But the Forebear's Blade could pierce more than physical flesh. As it asserted itself with an indolent swipe, confident in its invincibility, he plunged his blade-shard into the soft meat beneath its shoulder-plates, channeling fell power to bleed mind and spirit directly. At this the beast finally reacted, yowling in surprise and anguish. He backed away, evading its retaliatory swipes with newly-bought speed, and darted around the back to strike another gap in its armor with the same technique.

Slowly and piteously it fell, deathless strength yielding to the attrition of the Blade. As he took its heart, its ghostflame resilience passed into the ring, an unearthly light that bound essence and corpus together. The knowledge came to him: those who bathed in its glow would recover even from grievous wounds, as whole in body as they were in spirit.

But a few days ago he'd speculated about continuity after death, persisting as a being of spirit so long as his artifacts survived. He'd expected such an achievement to be the product of years, but perhaps if he focused it into the Blade, most deeply connected of all artifacts...

Yes. He and the Blade were one. So long as it persisted, he could survive even decapitation as a semi-physical wraith, though he'd remain vulnerable to physical harm. The fulsome density of ghostfire that animated his "corpse" would restore his body in a matter of hours, leaving him healed and rested upon resuming human existence.

He plunged the Blade into his heart, assuming the state willingly, eager to test its bounds and limitations. Ghostfire flickered, emerging from his body like an unfurling flower. A pale simulacrum of his right arm filled out the seared and skeletal husk of its physical presence. His left, cleaved away by the Tyrant's own blade, did not appear at all, nor did his missing eye.

The ghost-flesh was light but also effervescent, incapable of exerting quite as much force as his true body. But that was also its strength, capable of phasing momentarily through solid matter at a substantial cost in stamina. That it required the temporary death of his body was a major inconvenience.

Nonetheless, it was good enough. This would work. By his wraith-form's light he navigated the gloaming dark of the swamp, returning swiftly to the shores of the lake. Gisena waved at him from a distance. Swift as an evening wind he billowed across the lake's surface, too light and fast for gravity to drag beneath, and reached her in the span of a breath.

"Oh my." Gisena looked down forlornly. "Are you Hunger's pale shade, come to bid us a final farewell?"

"Only because I can't tolerate your company any longer. My new life as a ghostly adventurer beckons."

"Poor Letrizia. Better for her to think you dead, than abandoned so abruptly!"

"You won't guilt me out of this." He dropped to a knee, laying a semi-corporeal hand against her forehead.

"...How is she?"

"Alive," Gisena said, "and blissfully unconscious on my lap, as you can see. It's supremely comfortable, as I said! Jealous?"

"Should I be?" He raised an eyebrow.

Gisena giggled. "I hope your current state's not permanent!"

"Me too," he deadpanned. "But the light it gives off will slowly heal Letrizia, and that's all that matters."

As if in response, Letrizia mewled quietly, curling up in Gisena's lap, charred flesh crinkling softly. Her pain assuaged by the ghostfire's light, she did not awaken.

"Hmph," she brushed a finger against the wraithflesh, marveling at it semi-corporeal state. "You'll have to be careful in battle. Your very person is vulnerable to dispellation now."

"Worse, I'm constantly just a little bit cold," he remarked. "Maybe I'll switch back in the morning."

"The conquering hero's return," Gisena smiled softly. "I'll have to think of a proper reward."

"So long as it's not your cooking."

"Maybe I'll make you something! Would you prefer a bouquet of flowers? A triumphal wreath, some laurels for you to rest on?"

"Flowers would be wonderful, thank you."

"Great! I know just the prettiest arrangement," she raised a finger perkily. "Look forward to it! You'll wake up literally smelling of roses."

"I can hardly wait."

---

The winning vote was [X] Mire Wolf with [X] Pristine Star, [X] Second Stage. You are suffering the Condition: Chill of the Grave: Perhaps a bit too eager to pierce the curtain between life and death. -5% effectiveness to all actions for 1 month.

With Letrizia stable, the threat of the blue swordsman looms large. Rest is required, of course. Hunger is exhausted still. But that leaves 28 more days of Decimator-free existence. With the crucial window of portal investigation fallow, you've run low on leads for Ber's location. What now to do?

[ ] Make For Civilization - Your Rank having been augmented by recent efforts, you can navigate the Voyaging Realm nearly as well as Verschlengorge himself. Though the Tyrant's Doom afflicts you still, at least your Decimation is absent. Morally it's a good idea to take care of any civilized business in this window. Logistically, civilization confers the power of multitudes to solve your problems. Perhaps there are new magics you could acquire, items of power to equip Gisena and Letrizia with (your arsenal being full), even supplies to repair the Armament?

You'll let Gisena do most of the talking, so as not to provoke your Doom.

*Wide range of outcomes, available options will be determined by a combination of thread participation, fanworks and random chance.
*Low-Medium Risk, Moderate Reward is the likeliest outcome
*Potentially outfit your existing party members, and acquire new party members!
*Can sell your giant pearl for lots of money
*You can't reach Letrizia's civ, so you're looking for native societies.

[ ] Hunt - Power flows from the tip of a sword. For you, that's quite literal.

*Available targets will be determined by a combination of Rank, pertinent abilities, thread participation, fanworks and random chance.
*Variable Risk, high reward to risk ratio
*Kill cool monsters and take their (ability to?) shit

[ ] Temple of the False Moon - The message in a bottle yielded a map, its surface writ with silver-shimmering ink. Quickly it began to discorporate in the oxygen of the naked air. Though you've sheltered it with the Evening Sky, it slowly continues to disintegrate. The silver ink shifts with the Voyaging Realm, tracing a path to the Temple of the False Moon, within which treasures beyond all reason are promised.

Instinct tells you that this is a trap. But the most alluring traps carry the most valuable bait.

*Very high risk, extreme reward
*You will be able to somewhat influence the outcome, including mitigation of risk, via tactics & thread participation now and later. Intelligent decision-making and sound strategy will be the key to victory, so risks can be dealt with.
*To Boldly Go: Taking this option will grant 2 Arete and defray activations of the Apocryphal Curse for two weeks.
*You have Gisena to dispel any magical defenses, and your own form which can now persist even in the face of death. How bad could it possibly be?!
*You are not Exhausted anymore and no longer suffering from any wound penalties, so it's literally now or never with the map disintegrating.

Thread participation has yielded a reward. Choose carefully, a consistent strategy here can pay dividends:

[ ] +0.5 Arete
[ ] +Letrizia
[ ] +1 pick during next Experience spend