Or they lose the minor unconscious control Eidolon has used to guide them so far and become far worse. His Shard controls them, isn't powering them. To the best of my knowledge, they're basically super-robots and Eidolon has access to the wireless remote. Not the power source.
Uh, no. It has been stated his shard does give them energy(that is why he started losing his powers) and Eidolon barely has any control in canon besides making them want to fight him, everything else is their Drives or the rules of the Cycle.
I admit killing the High Priest might not instantly depower the Endbringers but they will still lose their source of energy.
They don't lose their energy source, they lose their motivation, well, everything except the Simurgh.
Supporting the Endringers with energy is more the responsibility of the High Priest as a shard rather than his active ability bestowed on the host. The fact that Eidolon has at least some power and influence over the Endbringers is only a consequence of the fact that these desires intersected with the task of the Endbringers themselves.
But I also want to note that killing Endbringers before Eidolon is dead is still not a good idea. Because of the Eidolon complexes, a new Endbringer will arise that will be specially adapted to withstand the threat that destroyed its predecessor.
My primary goal for this quest is to convince Eidolon that dying is the best choice, but not through psychological torture. Instead I want to see if it's possible stroke his ego so much that he gets himself killed by his own arrogance.
My primary goal for this quest is to convince Eidolon that dying is the best choice, but not through psychological torture. Instead I want to see if it's possible stroke his ego so much that he gets himself killed by his own arrogance.
I mean, realistically what else were we going to do besides suggest flavor text? We've effectively decided to gamble on our unreasonable combat-related luck and our hyperfocused martial starting build beating out our Foe's starting stats, trading our ability to prepare for the fight for her ability to prepare for the fight.
Honestly I feel pretty confident, we're pulling bonuses as a baseline that are well beyond the norm and our Foe has not had time to assemble any local support.
Honestly I feel pretty confident, we're pulling bonuses as a baseline that are well beyond the norm and our Foe has not had time to assemble any local support.
[X]Plan: Waste No Time -[X] On work and the challenges it entails.
--[X] You'll work your hours and no more (Gain no extra actions, default)
-[X] On your Foe, and the danger she wields
--[X] Attack her, finish this (This is Assaulting an Opponent Expedition) -[X] On promotion and improvement (The below actions improve your chance of being selected as Director should Carol be unable to perform her duties)
--[X] You have crucial information on Wraith, go after him
-[X] On learning the Lores.
--[X] You Master is willing to teach, request a lesson
---[X] What lore? (Edge)
-[X] On Rites, Rituals and the things inbetween
--[X] You'll cast The Attention of the Laws (Edge)
-[X] A fleeting opportunity (rumor mills spin, opportunities come and go. These actions might never be available again)
--[X] Find Arch and try to quell his Fascination
[X] Plan: KISS
-[X] Find Alicja
-[X] Defeat Alicja
This was going to be a simple hunt, no grand strategy or elaborate schemes, just the basics. You weren't interested in theatrics, just a clean, efficient kill. Find where she was hiding, kick down the door, and end her life. Simple in concept, but the execution required precision. First, you'd need to track her down and locate where she had holed up; for that, you'd need to blend in.
You got dressed in clothes far more casual than you usually wore. No sharp suits or polished shoes this time, but something deliberately nondescript. A loose-fitting jacket, jeans, and scuffed boots. Over your head, you pulled on a broad-brimmed hat and slipped on a pair of thick sunglasses. The disguise wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. You were a creature of routine, known for your crisp, professional appearance. Casual clothes, coupled with the hat and glasses, would do just enough to break that image. When you always looked like a well-dressed professional, stepping out in something ordinary could be surprisingly effective.
The sun was high when you left your house, the heat pressing down on the pavement as you walked to your car. You slid behind the wheel and started the engine, letting it hum for a moment before pulling out of the driveway. You were heading toward the last place she'd been spotted. Somewhere on the outskirts, away from the city's prying eyes. A perfect place for someone like her to disappear into the shadows and get involved with the city's underbelly.
"What is going on?" you murmured to yourself, sitting in the dark corner of the parking lot, eyes narrowed as you observed the motel. It had been surprisingly easy to track her here, easier than you'd expected. Hours spent following leads, piecing together fragments of information, and now here you were, watching her pull into the parking lot. Something about it felt almost too simple, too convenient, but you couldn't afford to question it. Not now.
You glanced down at your phone briefly, checking the time—just past seven. The shadows were long, the night starting to settle in, perfect for what you had planned. You rose to your feet slowly, ensuring your movements were smooth, deliberate. You adjusted the massive hoodie you were wearing to cover as much of your gear as possible, a cheap disguise for something much darker beneath. The helmet and rifle were safely stowed away in your backpack, but it was the body armor you wore underneath that made you uneasy. Not that it mattered; nobody seemed to be looking your way, too caught up in their own business. Even then, not many were out, which made hiding in plain sight much easier.
With a slow breath, you began walking toward the motel. The sense of urgency that had been building inside you for days had now begun to edge into something more focused, more precise. Your target was near. You could feel it, the hunt reaching its final stages.
Alicja's room was on the far side of the motel, and she was oblivious to your presence. That was good. No one had seen you yet, and you planned to keep it that way. You didn't intend to take chances. The moment you crossed the threshold into her domain, you would need to be as quiet as a shadow, as swift as a snake. The plan had always been simple, but the closer you got to the end, the more critical it became. You didn't have room for mistakes.
The second floor was quiet, as it should be. You kept to the shadows, stepping lightly as you made your way up the stairs. Reaching the balcony, you carefully set your backpack down next to her door, positioning yourself out of sight. Your heart rate was steady, but your mind was sharp, and every sense was alert. You took a moment to check your gear—your helmet was secure, the rifle was right where it needed to be. You ran your fingers over it, making sure everything was in proper working order. Everything was as it should be.
Next came the final piece of the puzzle—lockpicks. You pulled them out with practiced ease, the cold metal of the picks familiar in your hands. You had used them when you were younger, and your new knowledge simply made you that much more effective.
[Breaking in: DC 40/80]
[Roll: 41+8(Intrigue)+5(KNOCK) = 54]
With a soft click, the lock yielded to your touch. You couldn't help but smile slightly, the satisfaction of a job well done bubbling up in you. The door cracked open, and you eased it further, pushing it inch by inch, careful not to make a sound. Every movement was calculated, deliberate. You had the element of surprise on your side and weren't about to squander it.
Then you heard it—a faint twaing, something pulling taut at the base of the door. Your instincts screamed at you, and you reacted without thinking. In a fluid motion, you leapt up just as a deafening bang rang out. The shotgun blast tore through the door, splintering the wood and sending a spark ricocheting off the metal railing behind you. For a split second, your mind went blank, but survival kicked in as you shoved the door wide open. You slammed the trap shotgun aside, the sound of the explosion still ringing in your ears as you steadied yourself.
The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a lamp casting shadows on the walls. The first thing you saw was her—Alicja—having just rolled out of bed, her hands scrambling as she loaded a shell into the shotgun. The barrel gleamed in the low light, and for a brief moment, you saw the fiery hatred in her eyes.
"You really thought I wouldn't be prepared for you?" she asked, her voice dripping with hatred. She jammed a pure white shell into the gun, and that's what you noticed first. The shells—they were Gunsmith's. A tinker who specialized in custom ammo and firearms.
You hurled yourself to the side—
[Michael Donovan has invoked Attention of the Laws]
[Alicja has loaded her shotgun]
[Michael Donovan's current health: 4/4]
[Alicja's current health: 3/3]
[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 0, Alicja – 0]
[Michael: 17+48(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws) = 75]
[Alicja: 93+30(Personal Combat) = 123]
[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 0, Alicja – 48]
[Michael: 68+48(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws) = 126]
[Alicja: 12+30(Personal Combat) = 42]
[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 84, Alicja – 48]
[Alicja suffers one wound (-50 to Michael's overflow)]
[Alicja attempts to escape…]
[Michael successfully intercepts]
Her gun roared, the deafening blast shattering the door and the railing behind you as though they were nothing more than fragile paper. The tinkertech shell obliterated everything in its path, and you instinctively ducked behind the wall so that the blast didn't rip you to pieces. Still, the air felt hot with the residue of the explosion, and your heart pounded against your ribcage in the aftermath. You barely had time to process before you heard rustling inside the room, the sound of movement, of preparation.
"If you wanted to fuckin' kill me, you'll have to try better!" she yelled, the edge in her voice almost like a taunt, daring you to come after her.
That was all the encouragement you needed.
You spun around the corner, rifle instinctively falling into your hands as the chaos swirled around you. Your eyes narrowed, scanning for her, and that's when you saw it—a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her body moving fast as she jumped toward the window. No time to waste. Your training kicked in, and your focus narrowed to a pinpoint. You breathed in deeply, your left eye closing as you lined up the sights, blocking everything else out. The rush of adrenaline made your vision sharpen, clearing away the distractions until all you could see was Alicja—her movements, your target.
Inhale... exhale…
You pulled the trigger. The bullet flew through the air with deadly precision, a sharp crack echoing in the room as it found flesh, missing its mark by scant inches. You saw her shoulder jerk violently as the force of the impact sent her tumbling out of the window. The motion of her dive turned into a chaotic spiral, a messy fall that was anything but graceful. You may have missed her body, but it was good enough right now.
The crack of the shot still echoed in your ears as you ejected the spent shell from the rifle, the metal casing clattering to the floor. Slinging the weapon over your shoulder, you pushed yourself toward the window, muscles tense. Below you, a string of curse words confirmed that she hadn't gotten away unscathed—she wasn't finished yet.
You peered down over the ledge, keeping low to avoid being shot. Alicja was already moving, though, legs pumping furiously as she rounded the corner of the motel, her escape in full swing. You cursed under your breath. You needed to close the distance quickly.
Turning around, you sprinted for the door, your mind calculating her trajectory. She was fast. But you were a trained soldier, had prepared for this sort of chaos. You had to catch her before she disappeared into the night, before she could fully recover. The sound of your footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as you burst out of the door, your focus razor-sharp.
You hit the ground running, jumping off the stairs with a grunt, barely managing to stick the landing with a stumble. Your legs burned, but you didn't have time to acknowledge the ache. She was ahead of you, still weaving as her form had already started to blend into the shadows. You needed to find a clean shot.
Your eyes flicked to the ground for just a moment to keep your footing, preventing your ankle from twisting on the uneven pavement. The second you looked up, your breath caught in your throat.
She was barely twenty paces away now, and she was faster than you'd anticipated. In the split second you had to react, you saw her raise her shotgun, its barrel aimed squarely at you. There was no room for hesitation now. The blood in your veins turned to ice as you tried to move, get away from that lethal barrel.
[Michael Donovan has invoked Attention of the Laws]
[Michael Donovan's current health: 4/4]
[Alicja's current health: 2/3]
[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 34, Alicja – 48]
[Michael: 12+48(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws) = 70]
[Alicja: 74+20(Personal Combat) = 94]
[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 34, Alicja – 72]
[Michael suffers one wound (-50 to Alicja's overflow)]
[Michael: 26+48(Personal Combat)+10(Attention of the Laws) = 84]
[Alicja: 97+20(Personal Combat) = 117]
[Current overflow (damage occurs on 50): Michael – 34, Alicja – 55]
[Michael suffers one wound (-50 to Alicja's overflow)]
[Alicja attempts to escape…]
[Alicja escapes]
You staggered back, breath ragged, as her gun roared once more, the blast ringing in your ears. The impact was brutal—the shells felt like a punch from a heavyweight, sending you crashing back into the pavement. The force was enough to knock the wind from your lungs, and you felt something inside you shift painfully. You could tell by the sharp, burning pain in your chest that a rib had cracked. Maybe two. The world around you blurred, the edges of your vision darkening as you struggled to push yourself up.
But despite the agony, you forced your eyes to focus. Alicja was still moving, making a beeline toward a nearby car, her movements quick and deliberate despite the blood spilling from her wound. The blood pounding in your ears only heightened the sense of urgency. You cursed, and with a grimace, you raised your rifle again, though your hands trembled and your body screamed at you. You couldn't get a clean shot—the angle was all wrong. That didn't matter, though. You fired anyway, the rifle recoiling in your arms as you missed by a wide margin. The shot sparked off the ground beside her. Another shot followed, equally inaccurate, and it ricocheted off the pavement.
Frustration boiled inside you. You couldn't let her escape. You gritted your teeth against the searing pain in your chest, pushing yourself to your feet despite the fire coursing through your body. You had to chase her down—get a closer, clearer shot.
Your legs screamed as you began to run, your chest burning with every breath, the weight of your broken ribs dragging you down. Every step was torture, but you fought through it. The hunt wasn't over yet.
Alicja spun around just as you took another shot, the bullet missing her by mere inches. Her response was immediate—she didn't hesitate to raise her shotgun, and with a savage roar, the gun fired once more. You threw yourself to the side, but it wasn't enough. The blast ripped through your shoulder, tearing a jagged chunk of flesh out and leaving a trail of white-hot pain in its wake. You gritted your teeth, swallowed a curse, and forced yourself to rise again, your rifle clutched tightly in your good hand.
She was almost in the car now, fumbling with the door. You aimed, but your arm felt like it was made of lead—every movement excruciating. The recoil pushed your shot wide, but it was enough to rattle your focus. You tried again, a second shot aimed at her retreating figure, but this time, the bullet merely pinged off the side of the car as she managed to throw herself inside.
You cursed again, frustration mounting as you staggered forward, but your body felt like it was betraying you. Your right arm was practically useless, the pain in your shoulder unbearable as bone grated against bone. You raised the rifle again, but your shot only shattered the side view mirror as she sped off, tires screeching against the asphalt.
For a moment, everything seemed to slow as you sagged. The ringing in your ears faded, and the blood pounding in your head softened to a dull roar. The faint sound of approaching sirens reached you, pulling you back into the present.
[Clues left behind: DC 20/40/80]
[Roll: 30+8(Intrigue)+5(MOTH) = 43]
With a bitter snarl, you turned away from the scene and limped back to your car. The pain in your chest was a constant reminder that you weren't going to win this fight—not right now. But you'd live to fight another day.
Slamming your car door shut, you revved the engine and peeled out, doing your best to ignore the dull ache of your body protesting every turn. You knew that you had left blood behind and other trace clues, but there wasn't anything you could do about that right now.
It was time to regroup. You'd figure out where to go from here once you had some rest and tended to your wounds.
You failed to kill Alicja, altering her that you are both aware she is in town and willing to take direct action. Except retaliation.
In addition the cops have found some traces, both yours and Alicja's. While it is likely they will focus on Alicja first you know they may start digging into you at some point.
That went well.
Could've gone worse in terms of clues left, and Alicia even managed to escape! Really need to figure out how to teach her Lores though.
