Chapter 370: Practical C’thonic Ethics |
*****
SYSTEM ADDENDUM ADDED BY [SYSTEM CORE 1]
ADDENDUM NOTE: SC2u-R designated all uplink from this Labyrinth group as potentially malicious, but SC2u-R gave that designation based on an uplink from the Labyrinth group that was potentially malicious. We only noticed since we’d flagged all incoming transmissions from our experimental Delver Brood King as high priority, and we’ll be darned if that tasty data sits in quarantine.
This seems like a safe enough place to stick it.
ADDENDUM NOTE 2: SC2u-R added their own addendum in response to this one and included the following criticism: “ . . . the use of this specific media as an information buffer for the contested data is well outside of protocol, especially given that we cannot amend our entries once made.”
The following response is being added to give context to our choice of media: Not being able to amend the entry is the whole point, you dick.
*****
Evil.
Evil was something foul. Something to be hated and reviled. Something to be corrected when found, lest the thing in which it resided be corrupted by it. If left unchecked, such corruption could render a person anathema, until the only choice remaining was to rid the world of their ‘evil’ through destruction. It was an important concept in almost every culture.
Evil. It was a simple word in most languages, a word that nearly anyone would recognize and a word for which nearly anyone could offer a definition. Shog knew, for during his time away he’d questioned hundreds of people on two different planets about its meaning. What he’d found was that its definition often involved the concept of immorality–related but not quite the same. Unfortunately, what a person considered ‘moral’ and ‘immoral’ often changed based on culture and context.
Shog had even been told that a person simply knew what was ‘right’ and what was ‘wrong’ based on the feelings within their heart. Shog had difficulty believing that was true, for what he felt in his metaphorical heart was certainly not what that man would have considered ‘good’.
If morality was relative, and if evil was based on the violation of morality, would that not also mean that evil was relative? It was a vexing issue, especially when certain individuals could ‘sense’ the evil within someone or something else. Wouldn’t those who sensed its presence merely sense what they considered to be evil, and not what another might?
While he’d found a few individuals who asserted such, the majority were convinced that ‘evil’ was an objective classification, an essential component of metaphysics and the underlying cosmology of their universe. They spoke of authorities on high who codified what one shall or shall not do if they wished to remain virtuous or–more believably to Shog–avoid divine wrath and punishment.
Evil.
Despite its vagaries, Shog had begun to find patterns in what he’d been told about evil. He’d found that it was generally something destructive to society. Although, that which was destructive to society was not always evil. There were many accounts, both mythical and historical, of entire societies that had been considered evil and in need of destruction. The acts taken during their disposal were often lamented, but usually condoned as having been “for the greater good.”
“For the greater good.” That phrase was an entire clutch of vigskt eggs on its own.
Regardless, if a society were required, what of creatures that had none? Could an animal be ‘evil’ if it hunted and lived alone with no community to speak of? Did that mean a certain level of social intelligence was required before evil could take root in an organism?
What he’d become certain of was that evil was not merely the absence of good. It was something that required action–or inaction–taken with some measure of awareness. Even the evil spawned from ignorance was born of ignorance that had been willfully left to fester. After all, there were many tales in which the agent of evil was not themselves evil, but another victim in the games played by the villain. The mere act was not enough, but neither was it true that acting without thought was a shield. In fact, the choice not to think was often cautioned against in the morality tales he’d uncovered.
Thus, one could avoid doing evil without having to be good in any affirmative way. In most moral codes Shog had studied, there were many things a good person did not do, and many things an evil person did. The absence of evil was often used in this way to indicate goodness.
So, with all of these confusing lessons and considerations in mind, Shog thought about his actions. He thought quite a lot about them, and frequently so. Not because he’d feel bad for doing something immoral, but because being ‘evil’ was counterproductive to his goals.
Taking time to think was also the only reason Shog hadn’t yet killed the woman burrowing through the ground beneath him. She was certainly one of these United that Slayer had explained was their enemy. Shog could smell it on her thoughts, a strange synthesis of mortal mind and something without a sense of self.
She was moving in Etja’s direction, albeit circuitously so. Shog theorized that she moved with such inefficiency to avoid detection, but it was an inexpert attempt at stealth. While he’d initially stopped to evaluate the morality of killing the woman, he’d long ago come to his conclusion. Now, he was merely seeing if there was anything he could learn from her technique. After another moment of observation, he decided that there was not.
He plunged his tentacles into the ground. The woman’s screams were swallowed by the dirt.
*****
Zun’zun was filled to bursting with the gracious might of the Word, finding exultation in every moment of its blessing. Her Davahn blood burned with the might of her ancestry, its molten fury a scorching bliss. Her body was alive with sensation and strength, yearning for an outlet through which to show her devotion, to unleash the fervor she felt for her mission. Her union with the beasts that had once preyed upon her people only enhanced the love she felt for her kind, strong as boats built for the carnivorous sea. The tribe of Brae’ach. Unity’s chosen. The United.
Zun’zun was brought to focus by a light clattering noise.
“Marya is down,” said the small man next to her, and the world became tinted in an anxious orange.
She looked down at the Hiwardian, a man named Hirallo, one of the many who’d felt the Word during Brae’ach’s tour of the island nation. Zun’zun’s kinship with these strange foreigners was also as strong as boats, albeit ones that had yet to be seasoned by salt and sun. Looking at Hirallo, she was once again struck by how small he was, even by the measure of his pale-skinned people. She wanted to grasp him close in her arms to keep him sheltered from the world, but that was not the way to help this man.
“Dead?” Zun’zun asked, seeing no colors of sorrow.
“No, just disabled.” Hirallo drummed his fingers on a wooden box, the case for a game he’d laid out. It was assembled atop a blanket to keep it clean of the forest’s soil. He reached out and tapped one piece that had fallen onto its side and was being dragged across the playing field by another. The color of the fallen piece changed from grey to green. “She’ll be back up in two turns, but she’s been taken prisoner.”
Zun’zun looked over the small man’s board, evaluating the figurines. The little pieces moved to and fro of their own accord, enabled by Hirallo’s gifts. Each one represented a United under her command, save but for the three that represented their targets. However, a moment before there had only been two enemy figures.
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All the figures came to a halt, accompanied by a sudden silence filling the forest. The world around them had come to a stop alongside the board. Hirallo took a deep breath, then a deep drink from his waterskin.
“Which one stayed behind to ambush us?” Zun’zun asked.
“It’s a monster,” said Hirallo. “Tall, with feathers and tentacles. Difficult to detect. I only saw it because I got to respond, but I couldn’t help her.” The world tinted itself an annoyed yellow.
“The summon,” Zun’zun said after a moment of thought. “C’thons are weak to Holy.”
“Not this one. It’s got an item buff.” He flicked his hand and a card appeared, which he handed to Zun’zun. On it was a picture of a crown, half obscured by shadows. Its jagged palisades glinted blue as she read its description.
Demon Ivory Crown of the Descent
Requirements: Shog’tuatha, Hidden Delver
Effects:
+10 Fire Defense
You are no longer weak to Holy damage.
Each time you deal damage with an attack, the damaged entity takes additional Psychic damage equal to your Spiritual Magic skill level. If the Psychic damage dealt this way is higher than that entity’s WIS, they become vulnerable to Psychic damage for 1 minute.
Whenever you are hit by a hostile spell, you regain 5 mana.
Immutable
She flipped the card over to see Hirallo’s evaluation.
Level 12, Epic
“Isn’t this level too low?” she asked.
“No, it’s a solid piece but lacks any good stats.” Hirallo flicked his hand and a spread of cards appeared between his fingers. “His weapons are mostly the same. Good static effects without stats. Low-level, high rarity. Functional without being flashy.” Hirallo thumbed through the cards while he talked, then froze when he reached the last one in the stack.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve just never seen one like this,” Hirallo said, the world tinting orange with caution and worry. “It sets off the warning bell.”
Zun’zun leaned in to look at the card. The picture was a confusing mass she couldn’t make much sense of.
Magnificent Beard of Tentacles
Gorget
My mother wears the largest beard I’ve ever seen while she mates!
Armor Rating: Rock-Hard Muscle
Requirements: Many Brothers
Effects
+100 to Breeding
+1000 cubic yards of dimensional storage space
Hirallo flipped it over.
Level 0, Unique
“It looks like a joke,” Zun’zun mused.
“No, it’s real,” said Hirallo, “but I don’t want to imagine what ‘+100 to Breeding’ actually does. Also, what happens if his brothers die? Does his beard fall off?”
Zun’zun was fascinated by the cards, although they were useless as often as not. This one seemed unhelpful, and they needed to focus on the problems at hand. “Mountains turn to dust while we stare at these.”
“Well, I used Observe to get them on the enemy turn, so we can look at them all we want,” Hirallo said defensively. “Communication is mostly free. We’d have to talk for an hour before our turn would be forfeit.”
“Then what do you think?”
“They got Marya which opens hostilities, but we’re still in the scouting phase. I think I should use Observe and Analyze on the mage. Our people can keep clearing the fog of war. Plus, claiming resources will give me a lot more options.”
“We have but minutes to escape and follow the tribe deeper. You believe more scouting should be our response?”
Hirallo gave her an exasperated look. “Five minutes is 50 turns. We’ve got hours, relatively speaking. Unifier has given me this task, and I have faith in his foresight.”
She ignored the unspoken admonition in the man’s words, challenging her own faith. His people experienced the Word in their own way, which gave them a different perspective from someone like Zun’zun. For them, Brae’ach was known only as the Unifier, the rescuer, the liberator who freed them of their burdens and pulled them from their slow drift towards death.
He was a walking miracle, to be sure, but Zun’zun knew Brae’ach as a man and not just as a mythical figure. Her faith in him was not born of gratitude or debt, it was not born of a misguided belief in the old man’s immortality or divinity. Her faith was more common than that.
She’d known him as he’d been before Unity’s call, as a provider, a hard worker, a man of family and devotion. For Zun’zun, these things mattered more than any miracle he could perform. For Zun’zun, being reliable was worth more than all the ocean’s unclaimed bounty, and Brae’ach had proven himself reliable time and time again for nearly a century. Now, she had a chance to do the same.
She inwardly accepted what Hirallo could do, despite how absurd it sounded to her, then nodded in approval of his strategy. The small man gave her a rare smile, the world tinting gold for a brief moment, then performed his divinations. A spread of cards appeared in his hands, and he studied them as the figurines on the board began moving again.
For six seconds, the world continued onward while the pair sat as silent observers, unable to affect any outcomes. At the end of those six seconds, the board froze and they could choose how to influence events according to the rules of Hirallo’s game. She waited patiently as Hirallo continued to read, biting on his thumbnail as the world yellowed.
The first card was a basic report.
Etja Nothosis
Avatar Incarnation, Golem Animus, Mirtasian
Listed Level: 16
Effective Level: 28
Arcane Escalation
Ritual Escalation
Attributes:
STR: 10
AGI: 10
SPD: 10
FOR: 34
INT: 10
WIS: 57
CHA: 70
LCK: 40
Zun’zun furrowed her brow, feeling the skin tighten around the crested plates of her skull.
“When you used this ability on me, what did it list as my level?” she asked.
“United are harder to quantify, so I use an average value based on ranges that are–” He trailed off as he met Zun’zun’s eyes. “You know what, you don’t care about my methodology, and I get that. It was 27.”
“Then this mage is stronger than I am?”
“Maybe. It’s close enough that a fight would be unpredictable. Uh, well, it would be if you didn’t consider equipment.” He held up a card titled Prismatite-Infused Zng Carbonweave Armor. There were so many effects that the item card was full. Then Hirallo flipped it over, showing that the text continued onto the back. He put that card aside and picked up another. It was titled Incorporated Items and Materials. “I don’t even know what this one means.”
Zun’zun scanned the list, seeing every exotic material she knew of and then a dozen more she didn’t. Then there were the actual ‘Incorporated’ items, each of which refused to list its effects, simply saying something along the lines of “Prismatic Mask, Incorporated effects unknown.”
“What was the other’s level?” she asked quickly. “The summon’s level?”
“I only got to use Observe on its gear. It’s probably in the same bracket, given how easily it took out Marya. I’d have to use Analyze to be sure.”
Zun’zun swallowed the knot of concern rising in her throat. She was the strongest member of her team. The more powerful Davahns had already descended, and she knew better than to try giving Charl any orders. The man was ‘challenging’ at the best of times and listened only to Brae’ach.
Hirallo looked down at the state of their board for the first time since it had frozen again. He made a soft groaning noise. The world tinted blue. “It looks like Jearlin is down. I think they’re using Savant for scouting.”
“Of course they are, why would they not? She speaks her truth to any who will hear it.”
“Yeah, but it’s all in loson gobbledegook. That mage speaks it though, I guess. I don’t know. What’s the card say?” He reached over and took it back from Zun’zun, who’d been holding it loosely, distracted by the worsening realities of their situation. “Let’s see, Hiwardian, Losonbinora, Mirtasian, and uh… Celestial. What in the hells is Celestial?”
“Language of the gods,” Zun’zun said, failing to process her own words. She only knew of the language because of her close association with Brae’ach.
“Language of the who?!”
“I think our ambush has failed,” she said, ignoring Hirallo’s bafflement. “In fact, we’re the ones being ambushed. Have everyone retreat towards the Chasm. Tell Phantom and Teslampere to use Charl as their host.”
“As their host? Isn’t that a terrible idea?”
“It will amplify their powers.”
“Sure, but making Tezzy that big is definitely reckless, and what about Marya and Jearlin? What about Savant?”
Zun’zun placed her hand on Hirallo’s shoulder. “We will pray for them, and hope that our foes are merciful.”
Hirallo shook his head in response. “Zun, you didn’t see that thing that caught them. If it even knows the word for mercy, I’ll eat my damn socks.”
The small Hiwardian grumbled some more, but ultimately did as his Davahn partner asked.
The aeonium plant they sheltered beneath cast a long, dark shadow, and it was from within this shadow that they did their work. Also within this shadow, several tentacles had begun to emerge. They’d been frozen along with the rest of the world by Hirallo’s game. Neither of the United had noticed.
Not until the world began to move again.