Paragon

—Udraal and Valor Thann323

Paragon

Path Evolution Reached!

Path Evolved: Archer > Paragon

Feat Evolved: Smite the Wicked (Unique) > Purge the Dark (Unique) - Allows the Paragon to infuse their attacks with Heroism that scours souls bearing a legend of wickedness. The flame you bear burns brighter with every vile soul you purge.

Feat Gained: Lend Thy Light (Unique) - Allows the Paragon to dwell within the soul of a virtuous Pathbearer. The Paragon will ignite the Pathbearer’s soul and cauterize their wounds while infusing them with Heroism. Your virtuous presence will banish the presence of evil within a Pathbearer or immolate a being of pure wickedness directly.

Skill Gained: Icon of Virtue (Master) 1

Skill Gained: The Dark Flees the Dawn (Unique) 1

Skill Evolution: Propagating Salvo (Master) > These Arrows, My Memory (Heroic)

Skill Evolution: Mark of the Seeking Clairvoyant (Master) > The Prey that was Promised (Heroic)

Skill Fusion: Veilpiercer (Master) - The Shattered Star Unites (Unique) > Shard of Exalted Flame (Unique)

Curse Lost:

Skill Lost: Necromancy

Skill Replaced: Necromancy (Adept) > Remembrancer of the Fallen (Unique)

Skill Lost: Faith (Common)

Reconstructing Skills…

Name: Adam Arrow

Age: 20

Race: Changeling

Path:

Paragon

Domain:

Heroism

Feats

Purge the Dark (Unique) - Allows the Paragon to infuse their attacks with Heroism that scours souls bearing a legend of wickedness. The flame you bear burns brighter with every vile soul you purge.

Lend Thy Light (Unique) - Allows the Paragon to dwell within the soul of a virtuous Pathbearer. The Paragon will ignite the Pathbearer’s soul and cauterize their wounds while infusing them with Heroism. Your virtuous presence will banish the presence of evil within a Pathbearer or immolate a being of pure wickedness directly.

Skills:

Climbing (Common) 9

Swimming (Common) 9

Cooking (Common) 4

Cleaning (Common) 12

Sewing (Common) 13

Knot Tying (Common) 15

Survival (Common) 16

Whittling (Common) 18

Leatherworking (Common) 2

Deception (Common) 1

… (Expand + 43 Skills)

Angloish Literature (Initiate) 44

Foraging (Initiate) 41

Sketching (Initiate) 48

Pearlese (Initiate) 24

Bow Maintenance (Initiate) 44

Stealth (Initiate) 35

Camouflage (Initiate) 36

Tracking (Initiate) 37

Trapping (Initiate) 38

Bird Calls (Initiate) 39

Weather Prediction (Initiate) 40

Herbology (Initiate) 42

Anatomy (Initiate) 43

First Aid (Initiate) 44

Haggling (Initiate) 45

Gambling (Initiate) 46

Fletching (Initiate) 46

Star Navigation (Initiate) 41

Cryomancy (Initiate) 10

Pyromancy (Initiate) 1

Aeromancy (Initiate) 1

Acrobatics (Initiate) 39

… (Expand + 61 Skills)

Pankration (Adept) 51

Historian of Old Amerika (Adept) 67

Geographical Intuition (Adept) 88

Number Cruncher (Adept) 90

Physics Simulator (Adept) 91

Evasion Sense (Adept) 93

Twin-Fang Dagger Style (Adept) 94

Bladedrifter (Adept) 94

Slinglauncher (Adept) 97

Griffonback Rider (Adept) 97

Shieldbearer (Adept) 98

Stonemason Apprentice (Adept) 94

Cognitive Therapy (Adept) 99

Wine Snob (Adept) 100

… (Expand + 33 Skills)

Icon of Virtue (Master) 1

These Arrows, My Memory (Heroic) 201

The Prey that was Promised (Heroic) 203

Commander’s Foresight (Heroic) 166

Herald of the Deepest Fathoms (Heroic) 188

Phoenix Riposte (Heroic) 144

Seer of Horizons (Heroic) 200

Vectors of the Eternal Ascent (Heroic) 266

Remembrancer of the Fallen (Unique) 21

Shard of Exalted Flame (Unique) 207

The Dark Flees the Dawn (Unique) 1

Blessings:

Hero of a Thousand Fates (Unique - Standalone) - Stranger from afar, come to this verdant valley of stories and strife to walk your own Path in defiance of greater plots or divine schemes. You bear a mutilated fragment of a Highest Power within your soul. You have survived the will of the absolute, and emerged whole despite them. The taint of the gods slides from you like water off stone. Walk your own Path, Hero. A fate all your own awaits at the end.

Curses:

Adam didn’t have the words. His Skill sheet had changed dramatically—in ways he couldn’t fathom. An ocean of questions drowned him.

Why was his race different now? What in the Broken Moon was a Changeling? How did his Path go from Archer to Paragon? Why did he have a Domain now? That was the purview of gods—and he wasn’t a god… was he? His smiting Feat had changed as well—it wasn’t just a single shot of destruction now. But channeling with his attacks? Getting stronger with every evil-doer he purged? Once more, that was something that a god might be able to do. And that wasn't even getting into losing his Faith Skill and seeing his Necromancy change… to whatever Remembrancer of the Fallen was.

And then there were his other Skill Evolutions and alterations. His flesh didn't feel so different, but his soul was changing. It was blooming around him. The Shattered Star that once hovered behind his head now fused over his body like an exoskeleton or a regalia, bleeding down from the constellation that rested upon his crown. A small incandescent dawn flared bright, a single spark over his crown. It cycled between white-gold and azure, and a faint spectral set of wings lingered beside Adam, spreading just wide enough that it made him seem like some kind of holy harbinger.

A sudden gasp of pain from the Culturist pulled Adam out of his ruminations. The new Paragon’s eyes went wide as the Legendary orc before him. A brilliant blaze danced upon the Culturist’s body, yet it bore no heat and charred no skin. Instead, it boiled the Culturist’s soul, and the longer the exalted flame kindled the orc, the stronger Adam felt; the brighter the radiance around him grew.

Lend Thy Light (Unique) - Allows the Paragon to dwell within the soul of a virtuous Pathbearer. The Paragon will ignite the Pathbearer’s soul and cauterize their wounds while infusing them with Heroism. Your virtuous presence will banish the presence of evil within a Pathbearer or immolate a being of pure wickedness directly.

Trailing wisps of darkness oozed out from the Culturist’s being as he trembled and collapsed to his knees, the evil inside the orc sailing through the air as blackened rivers, like locusts fleeing from a star of judgment. But the Culturist himself remained mostly unharmed. Parts of him simmered, but the bulk of his body glowed brighter when bathed in Adam’s light. If anything, the orc felt… purified. Cleansed of outside shadows. Suddenly, through his connection to the Culturist, a distant rumble of hateful outrage ebbed against Adam's being. It droned in his mind, but then, along with the darkness seeping out of the Culturist, it dissipated and fell silent.

The Challenger has taken note of your transgression, Adam Arrow.

“What… did you just… do to me…” The Culturist was gasping for breath like a Pathless who'd just run a marathon, and his voice held a quaver of disbelief. He looked down at his smoking hands, opened and closed his fingers, and finally, almost unwillingly, gazed upon the radiant visage of Adam Arrow.

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The Dark Flees the Dawn (Unique) 1 > 3

Adam regarded his new notification with awe. “Well, that explains what you do…” He licked his lips as he examined the Culturist carefully. He could sense something in the orc—something he couldn’t sense before. There was a veil of soft light emanating from within the Culturist: a core that sang out to Adam like a desperate horn wailing for aid. It was infested and caged by darkness, but it was there—a delicate seed. A slit of light. It burned weakly, it burned with fragility, but it burned regardless. Defiantly. “I think… I think I can feel the inside you. I think I just burned away some of the Challenger’s influence. Or something. A notification said I transgressed against…”

Watching the Legendary orc’s face go pale did nothing to soothe Adam’s anxiety. “Adam… I can’t feel it.”

“Feel what?” Adam asked, uncertain if he wanted to know.

“The Itch,” he whispered. “I can’t feel it. There’s nothing there. My mind and soul feel cleaner… Like I just took a breath for the first time in all my lives. I can’t feel him. I don’t him.” The Culturist’s expression changed from one of disbelief to wonder, and then to fear. It was like he didn’t know how to feel about this either. Because he didn’t. Because neither of them was prepared to face… whatever this was.

“I have a Domain,” Adam breathed, his words a mere whisper. He still didn’t know how to process everything that was happening. “How do I have a Domain? I’m not a god.”

The Culturist went silent for a moment as he rose back to his feet, still staring down at his hands. But then something in his face hardened, and he met Adam's gaze. “Not yet. But you are divine. When I found you, there were pieces of severed flame buried in your flesh. You were burning from inside your soul. I thought it was going to break you further, but it didn’t. It reforged you. Or you absorbed it. I saw it glide up into your Shattered Star. Whatever Divinity truly reigns over the Fairwoods, you have a part of it inside you. That’s what I believe.”

“The beacon,” Adam muttered to himself. Flickers of memory returned to him. Moments of chaos. The battle. Falling. Shiv. “It’s the beacon. The ball of fire that rose up from the Watchtower. Shiv cut through it.”

“And so our deeds turn in circles,” the Culturist replied. “He changed in fighting me and my orcs. You changed in his desperation to save you. And now I have been changed by your presence…” The orc grimaced, but he kept something of a smile on his face. “It hurts…”

That alarmed Adam. He tried to dim his presence, tried to do what Shiv did with his cutting aura—and couldn’t. If there was a way to turn his Heroism off, Adam couldn’t figure it out. “Maybe we need some distance. Maybe—”

“No. I like this pain. I prefer it. It makes me feel right.” The Culturist let out a gentle laugh and closed his eyes. He held out his arms in an embrace of all Adam bestowed upon him, a man basking in the morning sun after a lifetime of imprisonment. “I feel light. I cannot hear him, so close to you. The Challenger has turned away. The Challenger’s Domains… They… must be in opposition to yours.” The Culturist's eyes snapped open, and his teeth clenched. “The cur. He. He told me centuries ago he was no God of Evil. He swore to me that he was purely a God of Strife. He claimed his nature was a neutral one. He lied… He lied… He lied…” There was a snarl of relief and hatred in equal measure in the Culturist's voice. “It wasn’t just our nature. It never was. All these centuries. I knew… No. I just hoped. And I was right. I was right.”

Something about the orc seemed brittle just then, and despite everything, letting him sink deeper into his own torment felt wrong. Tentatively, Adam reached out. There was a part of his mind that always suspected the orc was playing games with him, trying to lure him into a false sense of security toward some scheme of pointless cruelty.

As the Paragon touched the huge orc’s arm, the Culturist went still. Adam wasn’t sure what to say. Words to hurt or to reach someone’s heart didn’t come to him as easily as they did Shiv. He made do with sincerity. “Are you alright?”

And with sincerity alone, the Culturist’s soul roared with new vigor, fanned by the flames of the Paragon’s Skill.

Icon of Virtue (Master) 1 > 3

“I think I am better than I have ever been in all my lives.” The Culturist let out a grunt of overwhelmed emotion. “I came here thinking I was to be the one to save you. The better part of me pretended I was doing this because I had the capacity to defy the Challenger to choose. But truly… I wanted to make Valor feel like he owed me. I wanted to tighten my control and influence over you. Perhaps make you something I could command. I believed that if I could pervert your nature, it might give me an edge against him when we inevitably fought again. It would have hurt him. It would have ruined you. Even with the Itch quelled, I was only thinking about how to scratch it better in the future. It was always there. Even when dulled. But not anymore. It’s gone. In your light, it has burned away.”

Admissions spilled out from the orc in an unceasing tide. He meant every word, and darker truths withheld came into the light without shame, spurred on by honesty and drawn forth by Adam’s light. “I was worried about something like that,” Adam muttered after a moment.

The Culturist nodded. “I know. It would have made whatever I did to you later hurt more. It would have twisted the heart of the Deathless as well, to have you seen ruined by my hand in some way. He imagines you to be his moral heart sometimes. Do you know this? He would have been much closer to a monster without you.”

“There are others,” Adam replied, trying to avoid the burden the orc was placing on his shoulders. “Valor. Uva. Weave. They would have—”

“The Seeker’s heart is a spot of coldness,” the Culturist interrupted. “She does not care if Shiv is a true monster to those she despises, so long as he does not prove dangerous to those she cares for and holds just enough humanity to nurse her passions on. And, in honesty, she is the most vicious among you three. She is just not so loud about it. She cares about a few things, but beyond that, her affection becomes clinical at best.”

“Uva is not a ,” Adam almost growled. “She’s a damned hero, and I won’t hear any more of it. I wouldn’t have a home if not for her.”

“You wouldn’t. And I didn’t say she is a monster. I said she is vicious and cold. That doesn’t mean she cannot be heroic. It just means she has a higher capacity for darker acts than either you or even the Deathless. That doesn’t make her like me. But it also means she would not restrain the Deathless once his blood gets going. You do. You care. And so he reins himself in, so that you do not think lowly of him.”

Again, the orc could have been lying, but Adam’s own Psychology Skill had guessed as much. He'd just underestimated how much passive influence he had over Shiv.

“It’s also why he didn’t hesitate to save you. He could have eaten that piece of paper himself. He chose you. Uva wrapped herself around you—shielded you with her being. Because they both believed in you, valued you more than themselves.” The Culturist let out a laugh. “What is your new Path?”

“Paragon?” Adam said, trying to hide a lump forming in his throat.

“Paragon. How fitting. Tell me the rest. Tell me your other changes. I suspect I will not be as much help as I previously anticipated, but I will grant you what knowledge I can. And afterward…” The Culturist suddenly turned away. He stared off into the distance, peering through columns of trees.

“What?” Adam strained his hearing—cast his Awareness outward. “Is there someone coming? Are we in danger?”

Silence was the orc’s response. “I… am not sure. This might not be good for your morale, but though I’ve adventured across many dimensions, I have avoided the Fairwoods. And for good reason. Even a Legend can find themselves trapped in a fate far worse than death here.”

“You’re right, that’s not any bloody good for my morale at all.” Adam sighed. “Might be Evanescia looking for the pieces to her tower.”

“Could be. But I still find myself uncertain as to why she hasn’t already found us. She is greater than a Legend here. She holds influence over Divine power. She was willing to inflict brutal torture upon you.”

“Indeed. But maybe…” Adam considered something. “She’s called the Usurper-Narrator, not the Usurper-Author, isn’t she?”

The Culturist nodded in agreement, and a wide grin spread across his face. “She is called that indeed. You think the Narrative is hiding you from her.”

“Could be,” Adam said. “But let’s not count on it. If you think someone is scrying for us, then I suggest we move. Find a more secure position. Maybe higher ground.”

“Ah. Well. Perhaps, but I suspect that will be hard.”

“What? Why? We’re in the middle of a forest—exposed from all angles. Frankly, I’m not sure—”

“Stomach.”

The randomness of the Culturist’s interruption threw Adam off. “Excuse me?”

“We are not in a forest. We are inside a stomach. This is the gut biome of a great dragon. I hid us here deliberately.” The orc’s eyes turned to crescents as he smiled gleefully under his cowl. “Come now, Paragon. I would not leave you in the open like so. There is a reason why I brought us here.”

The Paragon blinked. “A .”

“Yes. A Green Dragon. A creature that spreads the wilds wherever it goes. A particularly old beast, from the look of it. It’s the size of a large city. Its Awareness was respectable too—it almost noticed me.”

This fell into one of the times Adam realized just how fantastical his life was. “Right… Is it awakened?”

“Yes. It’s even dressed. It’s holding a lesser nation’s worth of gold in a large sack over its shoulder and flying across the land, trying to hire people to start a township on its back to clear out the overgrowth there. Effectively, it’s inviting parasites onto its body for the sake of a haircut.”

Adam immediately realized his life was pretty mundane comparatively. “Well then. No better place to go over all my changes… Okay, are we inside a dragon? You’re not playing with me, are you?”

“Hardly, Young Arrow. And before you feel bad, it takes quite some effort to discover that the insides of a nature elemental are actually just that.”

The Paragon sent his Awareness up through the foliage. What loomed above wasn’t so much a sun as it was a brilliant core of concentrated mana. It even gave off the requisite warmth and brightness, infused all the vegetation with unceasing nourishment. The absurdity of his circumstance inspired a thought in Adam. “Culturist. You think this is what the System is like?”

“A giant beast whose guts lesser reality dwells within? Yes. But maybe we are so small we amount to individual cells more than anything.”

That gave Adam a good dose of existential dread. “And what might a god be in a body like that?”

“Hm. An aspect of the nervous system, perhaps. Or something that coordinates the rest of the body. Something the entire thing cannot function without. But the thing about analogy, Paragon, is that it is only a mirror at best. Not the thing-in-itself. I—ah, I will have to loan you those terrible books Kant wrote. But later. Right now, tell me of your new skills.”

For a few minutes, that was what Adam did. He still didn’t trust the Culturist completely, but with the Heroism within the orc amplified and the Itch repelled, Adam felt confident he wasn’t going to be scalped for pleasure any time soon. On top of that, the Culturist’s eons of experience proved useful as he managed to identify some Adam’s non-Unique Skills and offer theories for those that were truly novel. Ultimately, however, the Culturist found himself astonished. This was as much a first for him as it was for Adam.

The orc claimed there were indeed ways for a mortal to embark down the path of Divinity, but they necessitated power that made a Legend look feeble. That was the case of the Challenger. Other gods were more along the lines of the Great One—grand mysteries beyond the understanding of mortal ken, descendants from these higher gods, like the Composer, who were born to divinity, or leeches, like the Ascendants, who were siphoning Divinity from someone else’s story. Adam was closest to the last category, but he wasn’t nested in someone else’s skill. No. A sliver of Divinity had been embedded inside him, and he'd changed in turn. He was still his own Pathbearer, still living his own legend, and that relieved his worries.

For however much Adam still revered the Starhawk, everything he'd learned about the Ascendants made the prospect of becoming like them more nightmare than fantasy.

“Icon of Virtue is usually evolved from an Skill,” the Culturist said. “To gain it through deed is rare, but possible. I suspect it emerged as a leftover quantity of mana that wasn’t sure what to crystallize itself into at first.”

Adam nodded. “When the Challenger’s presence was purged from your insides, it leveled.”

“Ah. It amplifies the urge to do good in all those who are capable of goodness, and it creates a connective channel of power between you and those you inspire. The more noble-hearted individuals around you, the stronger you will be, and the more you inspire them to goodness, the stronger they will be. Good for generals and leaders—though I wouldn’t recommend a general to gain such a skill.”

“Why?” Adam asked, confused.

“Because every time I tortured a general with Icon of Virtue to death before their warriors, the army usually collapsed and had a collective seizure right after. The withdrawal and demoralization one feels when the Icon is defiled is quite severe.”

Adam just glared wordlessly up at the orc.

“Honesty comes with grim realities sometimes,” the Culturist answered with a weak smirk. “I’m still an orc, and even now, I don’t think those actions are beyond me, if I think they would be effective enough.”

“Yes. Thank you for reminding me,” Adam deadpanned. “I see now why the inside you is just a narrow thread rather than a massive sphere.”

“That, and I must question what Heroism truly means,” the Culturist countered. “It seems your Heroism means the act or potential of valorous deeds and virtue—to do righteous things rather than great ones. Classical heroism would not have held the same connotations. But this begs the question, does this Domain lean more toward goodness or righteousness? There is a difference—”

“I there is a difference. I have taken courses on philosophy.” Adam thought back to his time at the academy. “Goodness is defined by an element of morality and pure virtue. Feeding someone. Offering alms for the poor. Dedicating one’s life to service. But righteousness can be measured by a metric of unpleasant necessity. Sacrificing an army to protect a large city against their will is deeply amoral but strongly righteous. But I suspect that is not what my Domain represents. I think mine is the urge to do right, damn the fates, damn the System.”

“I agree,” the Culturist replied. “And that worries me. Do you know that a god going against their own Domain in an unforeseen way can become an act of suicide for them?”

Adam did not, in fact, know that. “It… can…?”

“Yes. It’s not often mentioned as, 'what God of a Thing simply decides they wish to defy that which they represent or abandon their own Domain?' But if one does—or if one is somehow deceived into performing an act that ruins their own divine legend—then something in them will fracture. It is one of the means through which a mortal can damage a god aside from Animancy.” The Culturist frowned. “Or Shiv just tearing into them, for that matter. It is disturbing how his Unique Skills make him more and more capable of stabbing and mutilating everything—including ideas themselves. If only the rest of us could have been so fortunate.”

“Not exactly the same words I would use,” Adam muttered. “So. If I seize a cookie from a small child, would that break my soul in half?”

The Culturist's mouth fell open slightly. “I… am uncertain. Perhaps not? You do not seem a full god, but this can only be discovered through testing.”

“I’m not sure how much I want to test this.”

“It’s best to know. I recommend that you commit a small act of evil. Just to see what happens. Kill someone's beloved pet and see if one of your skills shatters.”

“You think murdering someone’s pet is a small act of evil?” Adam almost facepalmed. Sometimes, the Culturist was terrifyingly insightful. Other times, his orcish perspective resulted in moments like these.

The orc frowned. “Is it not?”

“Culturist. How should I put this… If I killed a nobleman’s prized steed or some Young Lady’s pet puppy, they would go from merely wanting to humiliate me to trying to enact a large act of evil on me.”

“Truly. Hm… That explains a great many things. We orcs do not often take pets because—”

“Yes, yes, another orc would do unspeakable things to the pet to hurt you. What a wonderful life you all live.”

He nodded. “You understand.”

“I was a happier person when I didn’t. So. Any idea about the other ones?”

“I know about one of your other skills,” the Culturist answered. “A very strange Evolution. Rare too. Do you have a Tracking Skill?”

“Yes, but it’s Initiate-Tier.”

“Ah. How odd. The Prey that was Promised is usually a Divination-Tracking Skill Fusion.”

The Paragon pulled up his sheet and confirmed that the Tracking Skill was still Initiate. “Not a fusion for me.”

“Which is why I think it to be strange. The fact that you lack any Narrative Skills so far is also odd. I would think that the Divine Watchtower of a Narrative-driven dimension would have given you a skill bound to the nature of a story. Perhaps one has not evolved yet. Or maybe your Shattered Star Unites caused them to submit to your nature instead.”

“Well, it was purified from the body of the Stranger after the Starhawk intervened on my behalf,” Adam recalled.

“Ah. Another set of conflicting skills. Fascinating. Regardless, The Prey that was Promised is good for you. Especially since it does not require overmuch understanding of Divination. You can still cast spells at baseline, but if you know a great deal about someone’s history, personality, and can guess at what they might do next, you should be able to mark their location and track them so long as you remain within the same dimension.”

A rush of adrenaline went through Adam. “I can track Shiv and Uva with it?”

“You should be able to—”

The Paragon exploded into action. Summoning his Divination mana, he let out a gasp as a violet field formed around his body. A magical projection of Adam took shape—and it had a Divination arrow drawn. But he didn’t just radiate Divination. There was an outline of azure incandescence that emanated from him like vapor. “Bloody hells, the Feat wasn’t lying. It’s like everything I do has a bit of Heroism inside it.”

And a bit of his Heroism continued trickling toward the Culturist, spilling into that single shard of goodness which lingered within the orc.

“I can feel it too…” the Culturist breathed. “It’s always there. Always.”

Adam commanded himself.

Concentrating his Divination, his magical avatar drew its bow back and turned, seeking a target. “Alright. Personal history, you said? What Shiv might do?”

“Yes,” the Culturist replied, leaning in, his breath bated in anticipation. “If you two have history, that makes it—”

Almost immediately, Adam felt something. A cord of Divination tore out from him, and it speared out through the woods. Adam’s senses reeled. It was like a portion of himself was accelerated outward with his magic. Images flashed through Adam’s mind. It was like a rope made from his own history was lashing outward, slicing magnetically toward the moments he shared with Shiv. He recalled their time on Blackedge—seeing Shiv as a near-feral Pathless street rat; hating him. And then there was the attack during the Festival of the Eclipse, Shiv’s fall, Adam’s capture, and then everything that followed. Weave. Passage. Theborn. The Dragon-Knights. Confriga. The Recollector. Blackedge. The prison. The capital. The return. And now.

The chain of Divination uncoiled further and further. Seconds turned to minutes. Adam’s anticipation built. He wondered if Shiv wasn’t here. He wondered if—

And then he struck something dead on.

Something that promptly shredded Adam’s Divination mana like a falling blade.

But it couldn’t touch his Heroism.

The Paragon’s lip quirked upward as a notification appeared before his vision, as he gained a glimpse and received a hint as to where Shiv was.

Within the jaws of dawn, the Court of Summer has caged and chained a beast unlike any other…