Crimson_Edge

The darkness descended into the middle of a forest, only a few miles north of the forest where it had encountered Mior. Its injury was great, but even more than that, the strength of its hunger, and the hopelessness of its powers, forced it to land. Trying his best not to think about his own miserable condition, Masuar focused on the hunger pitting deep in his stomach, and scanned the trees for fruits and nuts. Many years ago, when he had first come to the planet, he had been forced to scavenge the forests for berries. It was somewhat remarkable, how a creature of such power and immeasurable strength had, like all other living creatures, to find its food in this manner. Tree by tree, branch by branch, berry by berry, fruit by fruit. It took him as long to search as it did the next creature; he was just like any other animal here in the forest when he was looking for food, despite all of his strength. Well, his former strength. The dark flames that had been ablaze on his arm rose in his mind, and the stinging loss of his powers came over him. He recalled civilizations that he had ended; people he had singlehandedly killed; forests, mountains, lakes that he had eviscerated cleanly, without the slightest effort. How he had raised but one arm, and all the dark energy contained in his body had flooded out of that arm and into the land, and razed it simply by moving into and through it. He stared blankly at a tree, his eyes acting as capsules into that past time again. Had all of that been a dream? Or was what he experienced now an illusion? A large, black beetle crawled up the tree, moving straight through the center of his line of vision, and he realized that the present was not an illusion. Nor was the past, because he remembered it as clearly as though it had happened mere seconds ago. Everything down to the skin on Mior’s face was just as it had always been. From the first moment he remembered being out in space to that last moment with his friends, before his imprisonment, the loneliness finally abating--it was all real; he remembered every second of it. He had to come now to face the reality that both his past and present were real. That had been who he was, and this was who he was to be. The most powerful being the world had ever seen had been reduced to a mere image of itself, just a shadow of what it had been. Pain wrung his veins and arteries. There was a sting deep inside. And he felt a sudden trickle along his cheek, and he saw a patch of blackness run through his vision. Had he just . . . cried a tear? “Graaaaan!” The sound of a growl, and a half whimper, pierced through the forest into the clearing where Masuar stood. Within seconds, a grizzly bear was standing in front of him. The shadow stepped back and let go of his fruit. It had been a long time since he had laid eyes upon a creature like this. But what really made it shocking was that he encountered it now in his reduced state. He could not bend it to his will with the power of his curl; he could not destroy it with a single wave of his hand; he could not simply blow it away with a powerful gust of dark energy. The bear bounded toward him at top speed, and the shadow jumped back. Claws and teeth came bearing toward him as he jumped again, this time to the side. He waved his remaining arm in front of him, ready to unleash a curl—but he stopped as he remembered how badly the previous curl had gone. If he lost another arm, he would be armless, and he no longer had the power of dark regeneration that he once possessed. He would be permanently without his primary limbs. “No!” he yelled as he dodged again, the bear’s teeth swiping past his shoulder, and a vicious claw scraping his side. Masuar’s head hit the branch of a low tree, and he slumped awkwardly to the ground. He cringed in pain--although he had experienced a lot of pain over the past few centuries, that pain was nothing like this pain. The throbbing agony that he had harbored deep within his soul and his body and his mind during those long years of solitude could not compare to the simple pain he felt now, in his weakened body. A pulsing zipped through him, as though it were his blood and not his heart that was beating. He prepared to send his fist flying into the underbelly of the goliath before him, but he froze again as he recalled the failure of his curl. There were other techniques he could use, but they were all based on darkness, and the darkness could consume him now that he was so weak. No, he had to use a human attack. But what? He knew of nothing. What could humans do? The bear threw itself on top of him, bringing its teeth to bear against his cheek, and then his throat. He had to do something, had to fight back. He had no choice. He would have to unleash the darkness. He groaned and started to yell, “Curl of Inf--“ Just as Masuar was about to finish summoning the curl, the glint of metal floated in front of his vision. “A sword!” he gasped, reaching out his hand and grabbing the metal by the edge. Blood spattered the ground as the metal cut into his palm, but he drove the blade straight into the head of the creature as he felt its fangs upon his neck. There was the sound of gushing blood, a groan, a crack, as of bone, and then at the end a thud. The bear froze, its teeth dangerously close to puncturing Masuar’s beating neck veins, and then it flopped over, landing heavily on the ground beside him, one massive paw still resting on his chest. The shocked Masuar pushed the bear’s arm up and rolled out from underneath, subconsciously acting as his eyes stayed unfailingly on the bear. He was shaken, but then, he noticed the sword. “Huh?” he gasped, looking at the blade he had grasped firmly in his hand. “Did I . . . do this?” he said. He felt a rush of power surge through his body, even circulating through the fabric of his skin; he shivered. And in that moment, as he stood triumphant over the bear, sword in hand, it all came to him. “My name will be Jack!” he yelled at the top of his voice, the words flying high over the canopy. He swung the sword, which he had now grabbed by its hilt, and cut clean through the air before him. And so the darkness Masuar was lost forever. And Jack, the one-armed, human swordsman, came to be.

Mior's words excited in Masuar all the hatred building up in his soul for centuries now. He raised his hand and said the words, "Curl of Infinite Sorrow," not yelling, but speaking clearly and loudly. In his youth, if it could be called youth, one blow had been enough to vanquish an entire civilization; the curl summoned a plague so furious and fast-working that it had easily drowned out multitudes of people upon Masuar's utterance. And his fury now was such that it would entirely wipe Mior from existence. A black spark lit up in Masuar's hand; his arm grew quickly ablaze. Dark fire erupted from his veins, igniting his skin and roasting the outer layers. His eyes grew wider as the flames rode up all the way to his cheek and neckline, like plumage adorning half of his body. He waved the burning arm in the air and a shrill sound, much like wind whipping through a hollow log, whistled as he did so. Now he had only to unleash the attack, and its fury would smite his foe Mior. He thrust his arm forward, to let loose the curl. There was a flash of brilliant white light, followed by an all-engulfing darkness surrounding the two magicians. A ferocious boom rose up and echoed through the forest. Smoke billowed high and fast. Masuar, the darkness personified, stood before Mior, his right arm missing completely from his body. For a full thirty seconds he stood absolutely motionless, silent. Then he gritted his teeth and pulled back the bleeding stub of an arm that he had created. The curl had backfired. The plague that he had sought to summon failed to even leave the arm it originated in. Mior had not been touched at all, except by the pulsing, throbbing waves of darkness that had emanated from the destroyed arm. The awesome power of the curl had not been unleashed. Masuar began to raise his other arm, to try again, to eviscerate his foe with the might that had incinerated his own arm. But the victim arm, splayed and sliced roughly as though a sword, and not an explosion, had spelled its end, held his concentration. Masuar could only look at the arm, and think to himself, horror and disgust flooding through his mind. How could he have lost that much power over the years? What had that centuries-long slumber done to his body? He had once been the most powerful being on the planet, no, maybe in the universe, unrivalled in his magical prowess by any creature, man or beast! Or so he had believed. And now he was inchoate and incompetent. To smite Mior with the wrath of his hate had been his goal, but now that goal seemed meager. What use was revenge if he were nothing but a lowly magician? What good this hate, if he could not even be the powerful darkness that enacted revenge? But wasn’t it Mior who had left him in this state? Wasn’t it because of this anima mage standing before him that he had been reduced to nothing, less than a shadow of the glory that had once floated as an aura wherever he walked? Should he not kill the mage, and through his death resolve the conflicted sorrow rampaging through his own heart? The betrayal, the loss of his power, the years of bitter isolation and loneliness—all of that must have some meaning! Yet, he now picked up on a craving in his body. Somewhere near his stomach, but it wasn’t hunger. That craving was the reason he was here, the reason he had flown all this way, persisted through years of motionless thought and self-containment. And killing Mior would not satisfy that craving. The hole that the craving had burrowed in his body was too deep for urgency to fill it, the desire so immense that no guts-driven action could move it. Once he had killed Mior, then what? The desire would remain, gnawing at his insides, and he would be alone, with only a corpse lying before him to quell his bitterness. Maybe he would even cry, cry because Mior had once been his friend, one of the only two living creatures across space and through time that had ever meant anything to Masuar. And it would be heartbreaking to kill him, even if he had wronged him so. And what if the mage spoke truth? What if this Mior were not the Mior he had once known? They looked exactly alike, except for the color of their hair, and they spoke exactly alike, and both were mages. Masuar had sensed Mior’s aura and traveled miles and miles to meet this man. Could it be possible that this wasn’t the real Mior? Masuar had spent years and years in a waking dream, imagining, as his sole comfort through the profound pain, how this encounter would play out, how he would take revenge. And to have to think afterwards, having made the kill, that this Mior was not the Mior who had wronged him, not the Mior that he had spent centuries thinking about and wishing to kill, would deprive the moment of all the luxury, the peace of mind that he had hoped it would give him. But again, looking into the mage’s eyes and seeing that same cold expression, the attachment to duty, the drive to perform that bent even his own human will—Masuar knew this was the same Mior who would let nothing stand in his way, eliminate any obstacles to get to achieve his goals. But a legend? Grounded in fantasy? How could that be? It had to be a lie. Maybe Mior had cleverly devised the story to divert Masuar’s fury, to stall or buy time. Maybe the mage had anticipated Masuar’s arrival. No, it was only right for Masuar to kill this being before him now, whether or not it was the real Mior. But he couldn’t do it. He could not do what he had come to do any more than he could rip out his own still-beating heart. It would be purposeless, a waste of time. If he killed the real Mior, he would burst into tears, the blood of a friend staining his bitter and lonely soul. But if he killed a fake Mior, he would feel nothing, and coming here would have been a waste, meaningless for all his sorrow and hatred. He would only hate more, and destroy more, and at the end of it all, remain powerless. The loss of his power trivialized all else in his mind. If he couldn’t be the darkness, the all-consuming darkness he had once been, then there was no point in meeting petty ends--ends belonging to the powerful darkness, and not the lonely, weak soul that he now harbored in his body. No. He could not kill Mior. The loss of his power had stifled all such desire in him. He needed instead to satisfy another sort of desire--the hunger in his stomach. Wordlessly, soundlessly, Masuar clutched his bleeding arm stub to his chest, more to spread the warm, thick blood over his skin than to nurse the wound, and rose up into the air, to fly away from the forest that had been devised in order to keep this scene separate, in search of food. He said nothing to Mior, mostly because he did not wish to excite any more of the sort of pent-up bitching in Mior’s RPer that his admittedly excessive but easily over-writeable backstory had created, but also because his hope to gain revenge had flown away from him. Revenge was petty, much like talking about an individual without his presence, and would ultimately lead to the expansion of an eternally dissatisfied heart. There would be no satisfaction in this kill, nothing to gain from this encounter. Masuar's revenge would not be fulfilled on this day.

The anger of countless centuries flooded through Masuar's veins and erupted from his hand. A dark beam of light slammed into a tree near Mior and set it afire with. Black flames exploded from it, and then the tree withered, and it died. Masuar's fury was not controllable. The tree had failed to shatter. It had been too long since he had exercised his dark powers. Most of them had faded away. So the darkness with an angry look spoke again: "What is this nonsense you speak, Mior? Do you not remember who I am? I am the darkness! I am Masuar! I . . . am the man you betrayed hundreds of years ago, atop Mt. Valimir. I have set myself free from a centuries-long imprisonment, and I am here to exact my vengeance. You die here, traitor!" The speaking was strange, for the darkness had not spoken so many words in many, many years. But the intent was clear: Masuar wanted nothing but Mior's death.

Where am I? His first thought was this. But his second was: Mior. Far away, deep in a jungle long unknown, atop a mountain long unvisited, amidst rains and winds long unfelt, there was darkness. The same darkness that had for many years been unseen, unheard. The world had not known the terror of the darkness in many centuries. But the darkness did not think of its own slumber. The darkness knew only one thing. The darkness thought only, of Mior. Revenge. His muscles ached, and he could feel his bones. The long years had stiffened his skin. But revenge ran through his spine. His heart beat to the thought of revenge. All else was forgotten. He had even forgotten the loneliness he had once known so dearly. No, in fact, even his name escaped him. The sound of his voice was unfamiliar. The beat of his heart was foreign. But only Mior. The single word Mior. That was all he knew. He took off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. His flight was clumsy, and his eyes half open. But the thought of Mior drove him on. He could smell the mage’s scent. Images flashed through his head. Anima magic. The brown hair. The eyes. The cloak. He rushed through clouds and flew for days beneath the sun in search. Slowly, his unused muscles regained their strength. Dust and dirt fell off his body. A layer of soot flew off his face. Hunger. He felt hunger. He held a hand against his stomach. “I haven’t eaten,” he said. His words were hollow and robotic. The years had been many since he had eaten real food. The darkness did not eat. But the human body, Masuar, needed food. During his long years of slumber, Masuar had fed off his own dark power, slowly depleting it. But now, awake, he needed food again. Like a human being. He was alive. Yet Mior came first. Even above his own hunger. First, Mior. Then, all else. Masuar’s desire to find Mior was so great that only two hours passed before the darkness stood before the mage himself. His voice, still hollow and uncertain, rang out clear: “Mior! I have found you, traitor!” The darkness descended from the sky and stood before the anima mage. Anger flooded his veins. The hunger in his stomach was held back. Revenge was going to be his.

“Long, long ago, in a distant universe, beyond the deepest reaches of space, there was darkness. Total, black darkness. And this darkness, it was alone. It had no friends, no family. It lived all by itself, in the middle of space and time, with no one and nothing by its side. So, as years passed, the darkness grew lonely, and, one day, it left its place in the corner of space, and traveled across the galaxies. It passed planets, stars, moons, and suns in search of a place it could call home. That place turned out to be our world, the planet earth. “The darkness fell onto the earth thousands of years ago, in a time you or I could not imagine, not even in our dreams. It was an awfully small piece of darkness, no bigger than your thumb, but when it struck, it left a massive crater in the surface of the earth. It was near this crater, many centuries later, that a man—whose real name has long since been forgotten—venturing, perhaps, on an adventure whose goal we will never know, came to encounter the darkness. And it swallowed him. Whole. “What remained of the man when the darkness consumed his soul was less a man and more a monster. He looked just like you or I, but in his heart sat the darkness, the darkness from space, and his hands swelled with the power of thousands of years of loneliness. The darkness, by coming to earth, had become human. “But what a monstrous human it was! With the dark powers of the darkness, the creature, who called himself Masuar, flew around the earth terrorizing human life. He killed and he tortured, he destroyed and he conquered, and at the end he smiled. And he did it all because he was so lonely. For you see, it wasn’t enough for the darkness that he had humans with him now, or trees or plants, or water or animals. No, the darkness needed something more. The darkness was more powerful than anything else in the entire galaxy. And that was too much for it. That made it lonely. It was the same sort of loneliness it had always felt out in space. And that was why it killed. Because it was alone. “But at this time on the earth, there were two magicians whose power rivaled that of the darkness. One had brown hair, and could take the form of a druid. He was a master of anima magic—fire, lightning, wind, water. The elements of the earth. The other had golden hair, and could take the form of an angel. He was a master of holy magic—light, healing, wisdom. The two magicians were known as Mior and Meronanar. “Although they were very different, the two magicians knew that the darkness would overwhelm them if it were not stopped. So, to stop the path of desetruction set out by the darkness, they fought the darkness, above a mountain where it always rained. In the rain, the powers of light, earth, and rain collided, and eventually united. The darkness saw that he was not alone, and his heart was pacified. He had found in these other magicians his equals, and that was worth more to him than all his destruction. Masuar the man came to be friends with Meronanar and Mior, the mages. “For years after that, the three magicians went everywhere together, almost like little children. Their common interest in magic and lore united them, even if their hearts and minds were much different. The darkness, for the first time in its entire life, felt like it was home. “But all was not well. The other magicians, being curious about the nature of the darkness, willed for the darkness to share its dark powers with them. But the darkness refused, because it knew that to impart its great power on others as powerful as itself would mean only more destruction. And it wanted only to be happy. Masuar, the man, wished only to never be alone again. The darkness wanted to forget its dark powers, as much as it could. But this was not good enough for the others. One night, atop the same mountain on which they had battled, the other two magicians attacked the darkness, in order to see the extent of its power. “The attack did not go as they planned. Instead of revealing the nature of the darkness, they destroyed it, sealing it away inside of the mountain where they had originally fought. Their own powers, too, were weakened, because the darkness was strong, and took their powers with it when it was sealed up. They regretted what they did, but it was too late: their immense powers, as well as their friendship, were gone. And Masuar, the darkness, was no more.” “Wow!” a little voice squeaked. “What happened after that? Did they get the darkness out of the mountain?” “Why, yes, as a matter of fact they did. It took the sum of all their powers to do it, but Meronanar and Mior eventually released the darkness, and got their powers back. And the darkness forgave them for what they had done, on the condition that they never asked to see its power again. Together, they lived their lives to their ends, in search of knowledge. To do this, you could not imagine happier friends than the three of them. And that is the Legend of Masuar.” “Wow!” the voice said again, a gasp following. There was a pause, and then: “Daddy?” “Yes, Leona.” “Is that story true?” Ernest Malbritch laughed and smiled gently at his daughter’s inquisitiveness. “Why, I don’t know, Leona. What do you think?” “I think it’s true, and it’s a great story. That the darkness was never lonely again. I can imagine it, all alone, with no one to love it. It must feel like our guinea pig did right before she died!” “You have quite the imagination, Leona,” said Ernest. “Now, how about you go to bed, hm?” “Okay, daddy! I’ll go brush my teeth.” “That’s my girl.” As Leona passed rapidly out of the room, her little slippered feet thudding against the wood, Ernest looked out of the window, up at the night sky. Masuar, he thought, I only wish that story were true. But I hope my little girl is right—I hope that you were never lonely.

Battle armor in good condition. Check. Mental focus sharp, undistracted. Check. Position apt to mount a counterstrike. Check. Powerful blaster weapon to blow giant golem’s head off before it uses its behemoth body to crush bones . . . crap. Vix jumped four feet backward as the large stone fist slammed into the earth before him. He knew he’d forgotten to bring something. He just didn’t know it would be as significant a something as Clyde’s blaster. Thankfully, the ogre of a creature he was engaged in combat with wasn’t much more intelligent than a common housefly, and Vix was both agile and quick-thinking. If there was going to be a crushing, it wasn’t going to come easily for Mr. Stone Golem. The tall blond fixed the glaives on his hands and focused his eyes on the golem’s face. As with any opponent, the stone golem foreshadowed its attacks with minute movements in its stony face. When it was going to simply try to pound Vix into the ground with its arms, it would squint a little, probably to lock on to its target. When it was going to maneuver its body into a better position, the eyes darted to the side, and the lips parted a little. Whenever either signal was given, Vix would move his eyes to the arms or legs, as was appropriate, to determine the direction of movement that would ensue. Doing this, the fighter dodged first one, then two, then even three and four arm slams, until the golem was roaring in rage. But it wasn’t enough for Vix to simply dodge his foe; he needed to strike back, and to strike back hard. Because he lacked a blaster or any kind of weapon besides his fists, he was doing nothing by avoiding the opponent’s attacks except angering the golem and wearing himself out. Fatigue would be the victor of the battle if all he did was run around. But an opportunity for attack needed to present itself. The golem left no unguarded spots, partly due to its bulk and size--it was easily as tall as a small building, with substantial girth. If Vix had only had his blaster at that moment, he could have simply shot the creature in the head, and ended the battle right away. But since he did not have his blaster, he needed to close the distance. He waited, again watching the golem’s face. The eyes moved to the left, and the lips parted. The golem was going to move. Quickly aligning his vision with its legs, Vix anticipated the leftward movement and also dashed to the left, so that he ended up before the golem again. He watched the face again. Here came the squint. It was going to attack. Left arm. Coming down. Going to slam down in one, two . . . As soon as the golem brought down its fist this time, Vix ducked and pushed beneath the stone fingers, narrowly avoiding the attack. Without giving the beast a moment to pull its hand back, Vix swung up over its wrist and stood straight up on the back of its hand. The yellow-eyed fiend began to roar in a deep voice, but Vix bit his lower lip and ran up its arm as fast as his legs would allow. His enemy swung the arm, but it was no use--Vix’s balance and dexterity kept him running in the same direction, toward the same goal. Right for the beast’s head. Now the golem brought the other fist across, to grab and crush its tiny foe. But Vix was already at its ear, and now, its neck, and now, the top of its head. Both hands came up, two sets of giant, spidery stone fingers, clasping and rushing toward Vix’s fragile body. He jumped--high into the air, to avoid both hands---and came crashing down in a matter of seconds, passing gracefully by each fist and landing a cracking blow in the center of the head, ripping the beast’s skull in half with the force of his glaived fists. The miserable wretch roared, howled in pain, attempted with one hand to swat its foe and with the other to grab its aching head, but it could not sustain its anguish, and began to fall backwards. Vix quickly jumped down below its chin and made a dash toward its feet, erupting into a sliding motion just as the beast began to form an incline. The moment before the ogre hit the earth, Vix made a small jump toward land, closing his eyes as the dust swirled up, as though in a sandstorm, and swished around with the air before coming to rest. Vix then reopened his eyes. He looked at his encapsulated hands and stretched his fingers. “Who needs a blaster anyway,” he muttered. “Ha.”

If Exp considerations are enough to let Isadora be considered better than Marcus, then I don't see what the issue is--that still says nothing about her contributions toward an S Rank (which this tier list has as its goal), nor does it say anything about Isadora's performance relative to Jaffar. Or, if your claim is actually that the Exp considerations don't matter here, I would like to point out that the two units being promoted does not invalidate the 4-level gap between the two. Invalidating that gap would be similar to dismissing a unit's combat leads over another because "the difference isn't that big since both are bad at combat anyway." In some cases, this is true, but for that to be applicable here, Isadora and Marcus would literally have to have Exp gains low enough (or negative enough) that they wouldn't be seeing *any* combat, which clearly isn't the case.

I believe the rules clarify this point; "absence" simmply means that the use of the two units are mutually exclusive. For example, in Matthew vs. Ninian in FE7, if unt presence is considered, Ninian > Matthew is arguable. But if unit absence is considered, Matthew > Ninian is obvious. Without using Matthew at all, you don't S-Rank Funds. I personally think this makes a lot more sense.

Your Lowen is blessed in Def by 5 points, and also has +HP and +2 Str....if anything, he's turning out to be beastly, not bad. He's down in Spd by 1 whole point, boo hoo, and Skill by 2. Since it's not HHM, you might have been better off using Sain, but that Def is too beastly.

Indeed, you can make the Sofia > Elfin argument if you take opportunity cost to such extremes. The reason that opportunity cost does not apply in that situation has already been explained. Just because you are using Elphin does not mean that you have no other reason to go B Route (on that note, there's an e in route; I'm uncertain if you knew, since you always spell it rout). You may have plenty of reasons to go that route, and Elphin is only one of many. The only time this isn't the case is obvious: on a playthrough where Elphin is the only reason you go B Route--i.e. you never use any of the items you gain in Route B and don't gain in Route A; you don't use Echidna or Gonzales; you wouldn't have used the Arena in 11A; you don't mind Klein joining with fewer levels of HM boosts, etc. And even then, you have one advantage of going B Route in that if you're not using Gonzales you can get a higher Power Rank by recruiting the L11 version, so Elphin is not entirely to blame. Elphin's impact on the player's decision to take one route over the other must be considered, yes. The opportunity cost of recruiting Elphin by going B Route exists, but because the routes are so inherently dissimilar, and the gap between them isn't even so great, it's not quantifiable. Even if it were quantifiable, however, there are way too many factors to consider--to assume that Elphin and only Elphin incurs 100% of the penalty of going his route is obviously ludicrous. Therefore, do you insist on assuming that Raven gets 100% the Exp penalty incurred by using him? The short answer to your position is: Raven has alternatives who can increase Exp, yes. I'm not denying this. There is a small negative associated with using Raven on the Exp Rank. However, Raven has as many likely alternatives who will do nothing to the Exp Rank if used over him (and by used over him I do not in fact mean replacing his deployment slot but allowing others to take his kills) as there are alternatives who will boost it. This must be represented somehow. This--and only this--is my argument.

I think no one would be penalizing Marcus more if there were some magic unit in earlygame who gained +30 EXP over every other unit. That unit would simply be given greater credit.

The point is that Raven doesn't get 100% of the blame for the lategame EXP penalty (or even his own EXP contributions) because pure opportunity cost doesn't work with more than one non-exclusive variable. Other non-Raven factors motivate that EXP penalty. Raven's absence does not remove it. In the same vein, Lalum's absence does not remove the possibility that you are going to A Route anyway, and thus will miss out on Elphin. In order for the current Marcus > Raven argument to be valid, the other side must be willing to accept these implications, and all sorts of arbitrary notions that will follow.

The implications of pure, two-dimensional opportunity cost are pretty severe. The issue is the other side of this Raven vs. Marcus as related to EXP argument is ignoring other factors, and assigning the blame entirely to Raven when there are alternatives who do the same that Raven does, or worse (Marcus being one of them in the lategame, if he's used, ironically). Anyway. Behold. The opportunity cost of getting Lalum is not getting Elphin. Lalum gives you a dancer but loses you a dancer. Net value = 0. The opportunity cost of getting Elphin is not getting Lalum. Elphin gives you a dancer but loses you a dancer. Net value = 0. This is what happens when you try to assign an individual unit the penalty shared by multiple units, that could have been caused by multiple units, and which could not have been removed by removing any given unit (the player may still have gone Elphin's Route despite not using Elphin himself). This is your logic in a nutshell. Correct me if I am mistaken. Otherwise, Elphin/Lalum to lower mid pls.

Not preferable. But it may happen. There being more alternatives matters just as much as it matters that more alternatives can boost Tactics in Raven's stead. It matters that replacing Raven with ~20 combat units hurts Tactics. It matters that replacing Raven with ~10 combat units doesn't hurt Tactics. It matters that replacing Raven with ~15 combat units doesn't do anything to EXP. It matters that replacing Raven with the other ~15 combat units helps EXP. Or whatever arbitrary numbers you fill in. Raven is compared to all possible alternatives, not just the best one, with each given weight according to how likely it is to be used. We're tiering characters, not rank contribution methods. Definition of opportunity cost uses the words "mutually exclusive." This is beyond the scope of simple, two-dimensional opportunity cost.

Nah, I'm not combining EXP and Tactics. I'm only talking about what happens to the EXP Rank in the event of Raven's absence. Absolutely maximizing EXP has nothing to do with my point. Could you maximize EXP in Raven's absence? Sure. Are you necessarily trying to? No. In Marcus' case, you don't have to try to specifically maximize EXP--removing Marcus should do no matter what your goals actually are. Easier to accomplish. Marcus incurs more of the penalty. Or, given three candy bars: a Twix, a Snickers, an Almond Joy. The Snickers is the largest, followed by the Twix. But one condition of the choice is Almond Joy will be chosen over Twix, just as a rule. So you pick the Snickers, right? What's the opportunity cost of the Snickers? Well, the Twix isn't really an option you'll be exercising. In the absence of the Snickers, you'll be picking the Almond Joy, according to the rules. So the actual opportunity cost of the Snickers in terms of size is compared to the Almond Joy, not to the Twix, and is thus greater. Etc. etc. Or, on the other point, to put it in Reikken's words, "Using Nino is entirely independent of using Raven." This is more of a credit to using Nino than a negative to using Raven. I'm assuming no kind of illiteracy on your part, GE. I'm only saying that you're wrong. Once again, I'm willing to go into much greater detail on this, but from here it seems that nobody is willing to change his mind. It seems to be a definitional argument, if anything.

Just to hammer in my previous point: an opportunity cost lesson, kids. Suppose that I am given a choice between three artifacts of objective worth, with monetary value M and sentimental value S each. The first item is 4 M, 3 S; the second, 2 M, 5 S; and the third, 5 M, 1 S. Now suppose I believe that the S-value of the last item is too low, and I want to measure the opportunity cost of picking the last option on S. By your logic, you would say that this is 4 S, because the best alternative for S is the second option. But this is only the case if the second option is actually chosen. What if I want to maximize my S, but I want M to be higher than S? Then, if I am restricted from choosing the third option, I clearly am going to go for the first, and not the second. So the actual opportunity cost of choosing the third option in terms of S is 2, not 4. Opportunity cost is based on choices that will actually be made, not theoretically maximal options that won't be exercised. Now replace money with Tactics and sentimentality with EXP, and you'll see what I mean.

Okay? The goal is to S Rank. I'm not comparing earlygame Marcus vs. lategame Raven. I'm only comparing how they affect the EXP Rank, and the easiest way to do that is to measure the rank in the absence of each. Your assumption is that opportunity cost is based on the next-best alternative. This is false. This is a way only to hand-wave a unit's relative advantage in a rank. Instead, opportunity cost should be based on what occurs in the absence of the item beng measured (Raven, in this case). On a slightly related point, when greater EXP is desired in the lategaem, that EXP can come from replacing the actions of non-Raven units. This is never the case for earlygame Marcus. There is almost nothing to argue if you simply turn a blind eye to this. Further, as to my other point: there are a handful of units like Nino in the lategame, while there are many such units in the earlygame (compared to Marcus). All possible alternatives should be considered, or at least most (barring ones unlikely to occur).

I'm not sure I follow your logic in that passage, and I'm equivalently not sure how it defends the view I was addressing (or the limited scope within which I was addressing it). My point is only that removing Raven does not remove the EXP penalty in the lategame. Removing Marcus does. There is a clear difference here as far as EXP Rank is concerned, Tactics aside. I've called the argument absurd precisely twice, which I would hardly call "repeatedly." I only use the word absurd at all because I generally agree with your claims, but I think this one is, as others are claiming, hand-waving. Or, if the word absurd does not suit you, try: it does not make sense. It ignores parts of a concept (in this case the concept being more complicated than simple opportunity cost) and tries to apply other parts. I'm having trouble seeing where you're coming from in saying that Raven's penalty to EXP is the exact same as Marcus'. Attempt a playthrough without earlygame Marcus, and then attempt a playthrough without lategame Raven. I will almost guarantee that Raven's playthrough will have higher EXP gains. Plus, my other point was that Nino replacing Sain would be the same as Nino replacing Raven for EXP, while this isn't true of any other non-Marcus unit in the earlygame.

Incorrect. Raven is not 100% responsible for the losses he incurs from killing because removing Raven does not remove the negative. It is not necessarily true that without Raven, you will have greater EXP gains. It is undeniably true that without earlygame Marcus, you will have higher EXP gains. Besides, Nino or whoever else can still be used in order to maximize EXP while satisfying Tactics alongside Raven. Raven does not need to be replaced. In the case of Marcus, if you want to maximize EXP, at some point you are going to have to discard him. This is undeniable. There are a number of possible alternatives to Raven, yes, and this reduces his Tactics win--at the same time, it reduces his EXP loss, and by a greater margin (since his combat in the lategame is unsurpassed, or nearly so). If Raven is not used, Sain might be used in his place, and EXP is still hurt--removing Raven did not in itself remove the negative. In the earlygame, if Marcus is not used, there is no EXP-reducing alternative to use in Marcus' place (except Oswin to an extent). If Marcus gains 100% of the proceeds of his Tactics win by virtue of being the solitary unit able to contribute, then Raven also does not incur 100% of the negative of his EXP loss lategame by virtue of being one of many units able to damage it. My argument is not Raven > Marcus. My argument is only that the EXP reductions are not equivalent. The logic propelling this line of thinking would have us all believe that Guy consumes more Funds than Harken due to existing longer--this is untrue, as in Guy's absence, those weapons would need to be consumed anyway (in order to kill enemies). I will go into much greater detail on this argument if need be. I'm all for absurd notions, but they should at least be logical in their absurdiy, and the idea of Marcus' earlygame EXP hit matching Raven's lategame one simply is not. And yeah, I came up with the unit slot argument when I was going to do Hector vs. Oswin vs. Zorak. I thought it was a cheap way to win and never posted it, so instead I simply made a joke tier list with Hector at the top here on this forum. Whether or not WJC came up with it independently is another matter. edit: lawl, GE, you're 4 days younger than I am. That officially makes you the youngest FE debater on FEFF, I believe.

lol, when I first made that unit slot argument for Hector, it was actually a joke. Also, the Marcus vs. Raven argument is frankly absurd. Simply hand-waving EXP Rank arguments for Marcus won't work; they exist, and indeed they are pretty significant. The simple reason is this: if you remove Marcus from use in the earlygame, your EXP Rank penalty is gone. Remove Raven from use? The disadvantage still occurs--it's just that another unit is perpetrating it. Marcus is 100% responsible for the EXP gap earlygame. Raven is nowhere close to 100% responsible. Bringing in Tactics on top of this muddles things, and Marcus may well be superior to Raven, but to claim that both suffer the same EXP Rank issues is just ridiculous.

Secondary weapons would of course be used sparingly--for example, Killer Axe Ward in Ch. 21 to attack the reinforcements that Shin/Sue/Dayan can't reach. It's little different from using a Light Brand on an all-Sword playthrough, though I'll admit if I used too much it would defeat the purpose of the experiment. I'm well aware that some people already realize that Bows are viable, but the "auto-suck" status for Bows is still very common in debating circles, from what I can see on GFAQs/FEFF/etc. Plus, at the very least, it's a convenient excuse to do something new. Everyone knows Alan/Lance can duo this game--but can a team of primary Bow users S-Rank the game without healer backup?

It says "HM" in the topic title. And actually, an all-Bow team proves more than a team of normal units + Bows, precisely because the more Bow users you use, the less the advantages of being a Bow unit are (competition for resources goes up, there is more than one unit now available to counter accurately at range, etc.) and the greater the disdavantages of a Bow unit are--for example, without normal units to wall you in, how are you going to avoid hurting the Combat Rank on Enemy Phase? You'd need to be more creative. Besides, you'll notice that some of these units do qualify as "normal"--Bartre, Ward, Lot, Shin, Sue, and Dayan (over half the team) have weapons other than Bows. So this experiment is more valid than one in which a handful of Bow users make it onto an all-star team. If a team of all Bow users can S-Rank the game (minus Power/EXP), and even do well on an efficiency run (since this playthrough attempts to be both at once), then there cannot be any objective reasons to discredit a Bow user on account of the unit's wielding a Bow.

We've all heard it a thousand times. "Bows suck, Archers suck, don't use them, they don't have an Enemy Phase," blah blah. Beyond the fact that FE7 Rebecca has always been my favorite character to defend in FE debates, this mentality has always struck me as narrow-minded and rash. Yet it remains very common. Well, it's time to start proving it wrong. The goal of this log is to prove that Archers (and Bows) don't suck, so I'm going to be aiming for an efficiency (as related to turncount) run with the added requirements that Combat and Funds ranks must also be A-Ranked--so basically an S-Rank with the strictest possible Tactics Rank and no EXP/Power. This should prove the point about Bows sufficiently well, or at least take a step toward proving it. I will only use units with access to Bows--this means only Klein, Igrene, Dorothy, Wolt, Sue, Shin, Dayan, Ward, Lot, and Bartre are going to be making the team as full-time units. This also means that I will have no healers on the team--instead, I'll be abusing Bow users' ability to avoid taking counterattacks and the additional attack range my team has to minimize damage taken. After Shin joins, I'll drop down to 1 healer, and after Klein joins, I'll drop down to 0. Elfin may or may not be added in as well, and situational filler healers such as Cecilia, Niime, or Yodel may make an appearance for their joining chapters, but they also might not, depending on how well these Bow units can handle reinforcements. I won't be posting stats of my units until later on, so I'll only list levels here. I haven't formatted them. My apologies. I'll get around to it eventually. And now, the log: Ch. 1 – 8 turns Roy 1.50 Marcus 1.53 Lance 2.22 Alan 1.81 Wolt 3.00 Bors 1.10 As usual, I used Marcus for most of the dirty work and had other units finish for EXP. I tried to give Wolt as many kills as possible. Archers are annoying on this map, since I need the Combat Rank to be 40%, and Bows have Enemy Phase issues sometimes. Marcus is very useful for that purpose; I had him target the Archer first (the one at the top). Down at the bottom, I used Bors for the purpose of hitting the Archer; he was useful since he wouldn't have died from a Fighter + Brigand pair attack, unlike Alan/Lance. I also had him visit the village since he's sort of useless on the rest of the map. I didn't have any crits, though I also didn't miss most relevant attacks. When the infantry were gone, I had Lance double the boss for 8 damage, then had Alan rescue Lance, Marcus move in to Iron Swordx2, and Wolt finish with an Iron Bow (1-HP kill!). Pretty good since he's the only unit I'm going to use out of these. I also built a few levels of Roy-Wolt support since Roy is forced to be fielded in this game. Overall, a satisfactory run, as is to be expected out of the first chapter. MVP: Marcus Ch. 2 – 9 turns Dieck 6.65 Roy 1.50 Marcus 1.76 Lot 4.37 Ward 3.25 Thany 1.00 Lance 2.74 Wolt 3.98 Bors 1.44 Ellen 2.44 Alan 2.69 Lance 2.74 The start went like normal. I was too lazy to give Marcus a Steel Axe, so I had Dieck Armorslayer Rude. Dieck missed once, then killed on the next turn. I had to use a vulnerary on Alan during this chapter because of low HP and wanting to keep that Mercenary on the right walled in (since it had managed to sneak onto a forest, the grummy ape). Other than that, nothing bad happened in this chapter. Again I focused kills (when the option was mine) on Wolt. Bors gained EXP because I gave him a random Soldier kill at the beginning, just because he was there and I wanted to minimize the damage taken. Merlinus got the Armorslayer, and Thany flew up to nab it from him. Merlinus also visited the shop and spent all my gold on weapons for future usage (like a Javelin for Ch. 3). Ward and Lot were pretty useful on the right-hand side; Lot used Hand Axe (since he has the higher Hit) and Ward stood on the Fort taking Enemy Phase attacks until the units on the left reached the rest of the party. MVP: Dieck Ch. 3 – 13 turns. Lugh 1.00 Thany 1.00 Chad 1.46 Marcus 2.41 Alan 4.73 Lance 3.10 Bors 1.65 Ellen 3.65 Ward 3.79 Lot 6.30 Roy 1.80 Wolt 4.99 Dieck 8.50 Had Merlinus trade Marcus a Javelin on turn 1. Marcus traveled up to recruit Lugh (and bring him back via Rescue), Lot and Ward took on a bunch of Soldiers with Alan/Lance/Wolt/Dieck support, and Chad rescued Ellen, letting her heal Alan. Dieck had enough Spd to double and one-round Cavs with an Iron Blade, so that made the middle portion of this chapter much easier. I realized that I had been keeping Chad back a bit, so couldn’t open the chests fast enough. I used Thany to rescue him (after she visited the village for that Mend staff) and had Marcus waste a couple of Silver Lance uses to take out the Knights (I could have used Armorslayer but I used Dieck with Armorslayer to one-round Slater instead, so I could seize with Roy). Roy x Walt C was achieved this chapter. Dieck was definitely MVP, but Marcus did awesomely too. Lot doubling Soldiers was pretty useful in this chapter. I realized that Marcus’ weapon levels rise really quickly, and thus he can use Killing Edge in time for some massive boss action later if I opt not to use Rutger. MVP: Dieck Chapter 4 – 10 turns. Chad 3.16 Bors 2.90 Lugh 2.17 Lot 6.87 Ward 4.32 Marcus 2.37 Ellen 4.42 Wolt 6.83 Alan 5.62 Lance 3.51 Roy 2.35 Rutger 4.45 Dieck 9.12 Thany 1.33 I activated Lot x Ward C at the beginning, had Chad trade Lot a Halberd, and got ready to rumble. Once again I used Marcus’ Silver Lance, which, added on to Lugh's guaranteed damage and Alan/Lance's Rescue capabilities, allowed me to kill the second Nomad on the map before it reached my team. I used Halberd with Lot to hit (since he has more Hit than Ward). Had Roy in range of Clarine on turn 4. There was a Cavalier at 1 HP damage and Chad managed to kill it by doing 1 damage. That was kind of amusing. Also amusing was Bors leveling up and gaining Spd on the 4th turn. Had Merlinus visit the village to get the Door Key. I had to kind of keep my units back to avoid getting killed by Rutger's KE on his first turn spawning (since reinforcements move first). I had Marcus visit the bottom village and Thany visit the top (Thany got a kill on an Archer too, doubling it with Slim Lance). For Erik, I saw that he had 12 Spd, so base Rutger could double--I just used KE with Rutger, had Thany move in to take Rutger's KE, Rescued Rutger with Alan, moved in Dieck, nabbed the KE from Thany, and left Erik at 1 HP, just enough for Wolt to finish again (or Lugh if Wolt had missed, which he didn't). Chad got some levels off the pirates too. Pretty sweet. MVP: Marcus

Mankiw's class. He teaches introductory economics here.

Professor Mankiw ftw. Even though I didn't take his class. v_v My roommates did, however, and apparently he's pretty cool.