. ..__.. . .___..__. .__ .___.__..___. |__|| || | | | | [__)[__ [__] | | ||__||/\| | |__| [__)[___| | | / .__..___.___ \ ( | |[__ [__ ) \ |__|| | / . .._..___.__ .__ .__..___ | | | [__ [ __[__)[__][__ |/\|_|_[___[_./| \| || .__..___. [__] | | | | .__ ._..__.. ..__.. ..___ __. __ .__. __..___.. .___ [__) | | |\ /[__]|\ |[__ (__ / `[__](__ | | [__ | \_|_|__| \/ | || \|[___.__) \__.| |.__) | |___[___ OR FIVE TIMES RAMZA BEOULVE WAS FUCKED TO DEATH BY DEMONIC MONSTROSITIES AND ONE TIME HE WAS NOT /\ /\ _ )( ______________________ ______________________ )( _ (_)///////(**)______________________> <______________________(**)\\\\\\\(_) )( )( \/ \/ (c) DeathCorporal UPDATED: 08/13/2023 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TABLE OF CONTENTS ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To jump to a desired section, press Ctrl+F and enter the code beginning with 00 listed next to its description FORWARD Basic overview 00f I Narrative-Enhanced Protip #1, Concerning Unique Abilities 001 II Narrative-Enhanced Protip #2, Concerning Support Abilities 002 III Narrative-Enhanced Protip #3, Concerning Equipment 003 IV Narrative-Enhanced Protip #4, Concerning Battle Strategy 004 V Narrative-Enhanced Protip #5, Concerning Prioritization 005 VI Narrative-Enhanced Protip #6, Concerning Optimal Jobs 006 WARNINGS A list of potentially troubling narrative elements 00w CREDITS A thanks to those who made this guide possible 00c ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- FORWARD 00f ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This guide is not comprehensive, but it will give a player several strategic hints as to how best to tackle the infamous Riovanes Castle battles against Wiegraf. It will *also* provide depraved monsterfucking narrative content for utter sickos who feel that GameFAQs and reddit threads on the topic are insufficiently exciting. It should be noted that all pornographic parts of this guide contain extremely graphic depictions of violence and rape. Please Ctrl+F to the WARNINGS section (00w), however, should you want to see more particulars of what awaits you in each segment. Please also note that despite the title, only one section (III) can arguably be described as beating Wiegraf off, although it may be more accurate to say that he is beating himself off with assistance. If you find any portion of this guide to be in need of correction or if you wish to uselessly flame me for being a loathsome pervert, I may be reached at deathcorporal@proton.me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I 001 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The courtyard felt still, the air thick with the cool damp of the dying storm. The scent of wet earth still overpowered the metallic notes of blood underlying it. Were it not for the flames, burning despite the recent downpour, Ramza might well have thought Wiegraf another corpse. He stood, true, but he did not look as living men did. Until he moved, he might well have been another victim of the slaughter--some husk propped up in warning to those not yet dead. "There you are, Ramza." The voice was not a living man's either. In all he had seen, Ramza had learned to move through fear. He had honed the skill of acting before the weight of any battle overtook him. Even having seen *them* before--even having slain one--he had learned in all the seasons since Zeakden how not to freeze. As he heard the clatter of mail echo across the stones, however, he could not move. "Draw your sword, Ramza." He did not draw. He barely heard what followed, but it was as if in the moment that his blood had congealed and his heart ceased to fire. When he spoke to the thing before him, the words slipped from him as soon as they were spoken. The first shock took him off guard, even though he saw those motions Agrias practiced so well in drawing the holy flame. The wind was knocked from his lungs as his body was flung across the flagstones. He heard the metal screech of his armor as it ground against them "We will not make it fast, you know." The voice rang in the same tone as the sword strike. His own shout barely hissed through his lips as blood foamed between them. "...this body shall have the vengeance it was owed until it surfeits and sickens." Ramza had not known what to do. He had never known what to do. His own sword had fallen to the floor. He felt the chill suck of the air at the hole in his ribs. It took him too long to register that the blade had run through him with enough force to shatter into the rock below. "You ought have screamed earlier." He could make out the shadow above him now, and he thought he saw the dim circle of horns atop its head. "You ought have tried to run." There was a change then--some quality of the air that turned sour as Ramza felt the pressure of a body against his body, of hands wrenching apart his legs. He found the strength to thrash as it became more and more apparent what was to happen. "Worry not, Ramza." Wiegraf said as he tore at the fabric of his hose. "You will have plenty of screaming left to you." Wiegraf spoke truth. Ramza found air left in him to wail a moment later--his parts exposed, the bones of his thigh sheared apart under the grip that held him. He bleated and bled like a spring lamb, Wiegraf gutting him by slow degrees as he pistoned into his flesh--as he poured out a lifetime of hatred into his entrails. PROTIP #1: USE TAILWIND (YELL) TO INCREASE SPEED ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- II 002 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The courtyard felt still, even in the echoing of Ramza's shrill whoop, even in the midst of so hot a chase. He was running fast along the edge of the water. He was picking up speed. He was moving, and he was alive. He did not have time to think long on the figure that followed him, face paler than the moon that floated cold above the clouds. He needed to keep ahead of it--that white hot fire that had already burnt once into his flesh. He could not bear up under its flame again. He was moving, and he was alive, and as he shouted and dove for higher ground, he fumbled for one of the vials amidst his gear. His arm was growing numb where Wiegraf's sword had cast its power, and he could imagine the web of veins in it turned black. He was moving, and he smashed the bottle against his lips as he moved, lapping up the draught as best he could as it intermingled with his blood. The cuts on his face were the first to heal. Ramza felt something in his shoulder reknit itself as he tried to leap from the landing and down to the steps before it, as he picked up speed and tried to dodge another wave from that burning sword. It wasn't enough. He fell, legs buckling before he tumbled into the water. It hadn't been enough. If he had had more time, if the alchemy had been stronger, it might have been different. As Wiegraf leapt down to meet him though, he knew he would not arise. "Sport to heat one's blood, Ramza. You do well to stoke our appetite." Whatever the state of Wiegraf's blood, his voice was cold. Ramza struggled, knowing its inutility. What could he do but struggle? His limbs would not obey, however, as Wiegraf dragged him out of the shallow stream and onto the stones, flinging him down, supine, as he moved to straddle his upper torso. The metal of his cuisses dug painfully into his ribs. "It matters little if you bite." He pushed aside his tabard, unlaced his hose. "But we will relieve you of such temptations." Ramza hadn't time to react before his face was slammed against the ground, left side of his face throbbing as one of the back molars shattered. Wiegraf hooked a finger into the other side of his mouth and began to pull. He screamed anew, and he could not run. Ramza lost some more teeth before his jaw came apart, bone and muscle twisting and breaking as Wiegraf tore at them. By the time the cock was forced between his lips, he had no means to resist it. It slid over his limp tongue, hammered into the back of his throat. Every thrust brought with it a thousand pains. As it seemed to swell larger within him, Ramza found some faint relief that he should begin to swoon--that it might stop his breath and leave him dying. When the creature climaxed, it had no trace of humanity left it. Ramza could only register the hot gush burning within him for an instant, his body receding from him as the cords and sinews of his neck came apart. PROTIP #2: ASSIGNING THE AUTOPOTION ABILITY WITH ONLY X-POTIONS IN THE PARTY INVENTORY WILL HELP RAMZA TO REGAIN HP QUICKLY. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- III 003 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The courtyard felt still, and Ramza--unstill within it--was lost in doubts he could not outrun. No matter how hard he sprinted--how nimbly he tended his hurts--Wiegraf was wearing him down. Each arc of sword-born light gradually outweighed the powers of his alchemy. He could not rely upon distance and determination to save him. He thought, in flashes and starts, of Agrias, twisting a golden pin into her long-braided hair--of Mustadio weighing bright jeweled bangles in his hands. As Wiegraf walked towards him, steady and unrelenting, he recalled Rad in the thick of a Lesalian market, holding up a green tunic glittering like emeralds and beetles' wings. *They say it's a guard against the Lionsgard's arts. Can't reckon I put stock in it, but it sure is handsome.* He put it out of mind as he came within the circle of Wiegraf's blade. There was no use wondering about it now. If such an artifact had power, it could not save him now. His wrist shook. His back was too the wall. He lunged and saw the arc of the parry before their blades met. He did not see the riposte. There was a flash of hot lightning that seared his flesh as Wiegraf cut it open. Ramza's sword clattered to the ground as he fell, and he did not comprehend at first he was living still. He did not notice his hands moving to grip the coiling rope of his bowels. "Gutted *before* the slaughter." Wiegraf clicked his tongue. "This host *was* ill-suited to peasant's work." Ramza could not reply as the man strode towards him, flipped him over, shoved his fingers into the mass spilling from him and pushed it back in. "Mullonde might have had you drawn anyway," he said. "Heretics not burnt need feed some other spectacle." He could not feel the hands that gripped him from within. He could feel very little. He was cold. It was only by the sound of tearing cloth that he realized he was being stripped--that his legs and buttocks lay exposed to the same damp air as his guts. "If not the flame... the gallows... or else the pike." He grunted. "Impalement was the penalty for some sects." Wiegraf's hips snapped forward, and Ramza grew dimly aware he was being raped --that this indignity should be visited on him too. He convulsed as Wiegraf ploughed into him, the burn of the violation searing through the emptiness of his ruined body. He tried to put it out of mind as he attempted to reckon however many minutes must be left to him. As frightened as he was, as pained as he was--all sufferings of all men end. Wiegraf pushed his hand deeper, and something in him shifted. Ramza was already amid that final drift when he perceived it: the hard, calloused fingers that caressed him from within, the hot pain of his torn and bloody ass. It seemed unreal and improbable when he realized the configuration they were in: Wiegraf stroking himself from the inside of him--fucking into his own hand where it gripped the thin vellum of his entrails. As he picked up speed, Ramza began to taste metal in the back of his throat. His vision was already dark when they both stopped moving. PROTIP #3: EQUIP CHAMELEON ROBES TO ABSORB WIEGRAF'S HOLY KNIGHT ATTACKS. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- IV 004 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The courtyard felt still, and Ramza waited restlessly for Wiegraf to reappear. He had won, but it had not felt like winning. He knew even before the blue light fell upon him that some final act was yet to begin. As he heard the clatter of his men running towards him, there was a new flash overhead. If thunder followed, however, it was drowned out by the roar of what manifested before them. Even having seen it at Orbonne, Ramza was not prepared to face the thing before him: its limbs massive, its eyes black. He tensed his fingers around the grip of his sword as a squire shouted. He could not make out what was said as the beast lowered its head towards his. *I am come.* He didn't have time to think when it began--not when other shadows appeared to join with the Lucavi, not when he felt the sharp crackle of magic in the air. He charged forward with a shout as the company followed. He barked an order to attack en masse. He told himself, as he ran, that it was right--that a swift assault was better than waiting, that this was not merely the rash fear of the beast overwhelming him. When he made his lunge and felt the weight of steel against flesh, he almost believed himself. Belias only tensed as the blow landed, its arms upraised as it chanted words in a tongue Ramza could not parse. As the sky opened above him, he heard Agrias' scream before his own. Everything burnt away to white as it fell upon him. The bones of his extended arm seemed to shatter into sand, and his body was half sunk into a crater of broken stone. He looked up and saw the trace of one horned figure swimming above him, ascending back up into the sky as another punched its four arms into the earth. Ramza was all pain as it gripped him, as he caught the scent of charred flesh on the air. It lifted him where his limbs still held, and he tried his best to writhe away. There were claws against his hose, against the bared flesh of his legs, amidst the useless meat of his arms. He could feel the blunt weight of something huge and knotted slide against the skin of his buttocks. He managed to close his eyes as he realized what it was. If he made any noise when it took him—when it tore him open—he hadn’t the means to hear it. It roared louder than his screams possibly could. He felt his slender frame bulge and distort as it pushed its way into him, as it pulled him down along its shaft and broke him further. His mouth dropped open as it bellowed again. He could taste the blood and bile it lapped from his lips. As it ensheathed itself within him—--deep, fatal--he became aware of the drumming of a heartbeat that pulsed through all the places he was coming apart. Ramza was not yet gone when Belias finished, and he could feel the shifting weight of his body as it flooded all those spaces left within him--as it filled him as deep as divinities were capable of filling mortal men. There was some ember of ironic sympathy smoldering in him as he faded, thinking how he and Wiegraf should so perfectly be made vessels to the same God. PROTIP #4: IT IS IMPORTANT TO DISPERSE THE PARTY ONCE WIEGRAF TRANSFORMS INTO BELIAS (VELIUS), AS ONE OF HIS OPENING MOVES WILL BE TO CAST THE HARD-HITTING CYCLOPS SUMMON. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- V 005 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The courtyard felt still, but it was only the stillness of anticipation. The roar of battle raged everywhere; all the devils chanted words that rang harsh in Ramza’s ears. *aurora. cruentum aerum exhale. sancta umbra.* He'd run past Belias. He’d made it to higher ground. *Don’t always expend your strength on the strongest; the proudest fighter cannot stand without allies.* It was a lecture in Gariland he’d stayed awake through, and it had never yet proven poor advice. A shot rang out and one of the creatures roared into motion. Ramza did not miss the opportunity. His blade drew a line of red against its arm; it turned; there was a blast of smoke and a flare of something darker than smoke still. He was numb by the time another body intersected with his own. He could not breathe, caught between the cold fire in his veins and the bone- hard limbs of the creature that pinned him to the ground. Something shrieked as he tried and failed to jerk himself away. His vision had barely cleared when it was cut off again, his head thrown to the ground as the weight of another of them toppled onto him. He could not breathe. There was the scramble of claws against his skin, the grind of bone against bone. He could not breathe. He realized they were fighting over *him*--that rules droned out in academy halls held no sway over the swarm. When he could see again, when he could look up toward the dark vault of the sky, he realized all three of them held him down. There was another shriek as he felt the sudden punch of something like a blade make its way through the fibers of his muscles. He howled as he craned his head, just able to make out one of the creatures rutting against his belly. He took it in: the burning agony of the invasion, the triumphant howl of the beasts. It was a few moments before he recognized what the chitinous object sawing into him was, and he spat blood as his body went rigid. Other lectures. Other schoolings. Alma tittering over some forbidden page of natural history the old monk tried to hide from her. He had told her that it all sounded like nonsense: the love darts of snails and the barbed parts of seed beetles. The memory was ripped from him as a second beast slid its knife-like member roughly into his throat. He had no voice as he felt something rupture, as he could feel the burn of fluid sliding down into his chest. Ramza could not move by the time the third creature speared him, cracking one of his ribs as it forced its way between them. He was pierced throughout, blood and humors running slick against his tunic and skin. Some wisp of a memory recalled an arrow-studded saint illuminated on a chapel wall--the sort of creature to whom Zalbag turned his adorations. He lay there, flooding with blood as it was tugged and torn between the them. As the screams of human voices died away, he could just make out the shadow of their greater master. The creatures pulled away, only the one of them managing to jet a hot trail of spend across his mutilated face. They parted as Belias bent over him, lifting him from the damp stone upon which he lay. He handled him with a gentleness that only added to his fear. As the first thrill of magery slipped over his skin, he realized that his wounds should be healed. He realized that it would remake him again--and perhaps again after that--to feed new and more terrible appetites. PROTIP #5: DO NOT WASTE TIME TRYING TO DEFEAT THE ARCHAEODAEMONS (ARCHAIC DEMONS). FOCUS ALL OF YOUR ENERGY ON BELIAS (VELIUS). ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VI 006 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The courtyard bore some trace of the battle--every corpse, still as stone, left some impression it might spring back to life. Aries rang hollow on the ground. Ramza blinked. He hesitated as he reached down to touch it, knuckles still aching from where he’d battered the great beast down into nothing. The warmth of it in his hand faded quickly. He closed his eyes, arms taut, remembering how fast he'd had to move. It seemed he was still moving, that the flurry of one fist after another hadn't ceased. There was a dim glow from the stone that sparked bright a minute before it died. Ramza had the briefest flash of outcomes far more chilling than what he had seen. He remembered that wreck that had once been Wiegraf Folles--how distorted into monstrosity--the hatred had been the same. Ramza shuddered hard even before he heard the cry. "Alma!" As he strode out into the labyrinth of Riovanes, he dared not linger on the place he left. He felt, even victorious, that to tarry would leave him lost. PROTIP #6: JUST MAKE RAMZA A MONK WITH THE DUAL WIELD (TWO SWORDS) ABILITY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE DOES. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- WARNINGS 00w ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I: No warnings beyond the graphic violence and rape applicable to all pornographic portions of this text. II: Forced Oral, Dental Trauma III: Gore, Intestine-Facilitated Masturbation IV: Belly Bulge, Huge Cock, Internal Injuries V: Gang Rape, Xeno Knife Dicks, Traumatic Insemination VI: No Warnings ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CREDITS 00c ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Much thanks to various unnamed associates for suggesting the fine medium of the FapFAQ (Happy Birthday to one associate in particular!). The ASCII font (Contessa) was generated at www.patorjk.com/software/taag. The ASCII sword art was copied from www.asciiart.eu. /\ /\ _ )( ______________________ ______________________ )( _ (_)///////(**)______________________> <______________________(**)\\\\\\\(_) )( )( \/ \/