#Numeria

[wilanserulia]

Rumble in the Wastelands

[golariontoday]

Quote: Thornkeep lies in the depths of the Echo Wood, an ancient and mysterious forest that marks the… https://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Thornkeep

[depresanesfreetime]

[paintedscales]

Mixed May 2024 -> Hobbies + Friends

Ballroom dancing with Bruveaux Sieruet Preparing to draw with Aergwyda Rhitwyr Sparring with Numeria Sylvius

Another two for one because I've been juggling a few things.

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Numeria, Land of Fallen Stars - Sellen Hills by Caio Monteiro

[sadruru]

...Hey, I'm still alive! I've had a lot going on lately. Especially bad moments that have hit me hard mentally… But I'm feeling better now, and I'll share at least some fun artwork and a board game.

You can't have too many tieflings, right? I'm running a short Pathfinder board game called “Robbery in Absalom”. Fate has suddenly linked three thieflings from Absalom, one mysteriously tiefling from Cheliax, a beautiful white-haired tiefling girl, and three students from a fencing school. I so love the fact that these guys were invented by real people and play for them... It really sounds magical!

And I'll tell you a little bit about them.

I'll start with three swordsmen and a cute little girl: Alessio - no comments, just an IDEAL AT ALL aazimar from azat 👄💅 (only the others don't seem to agree with it), the main instigator in the company.

Dominic - a beautiful dark-haired guy, a daredevil, a noble swordsman and a burning simp Roslyn, because of such passionate love for her guys often make fun of him 🤣

Rael - a tiefling swashbuckler with a fire, screams funny from women, and loves to read books marked +800 about Queens of the Night (a group of four unique female demigoddesses) 🔥

Roslyn - an adorable tiefling who, as the story progresses, becomes a client for thieflings. She has a cute little mouse with a bow and a HUGE WEAPON FROM NUMERIA AND SHE'S A SNIPER!!! Constantly fending off Dominic's attention.🔫

Now let's start with the thieflings and their mysterious new acquaintance: Marishka (or Panochka) - an arcanist, gold digger and just a charming follower of Calistria who will appreciate you from head to toe. Familiar is a funny flying dinosaur. She is from Irrisen.

Oscar - a “tiefling” (aasimar undercover, no one has figured that out yet!), Grandma's* favorite grandchild. He's a very reasonable guy.

*If in Mendev, for example, sister Kerismei is in charge of the thieflings, then in our story in Absalom the Babushka (Grandmother) is in charge. She is a very sweet old lady who takes care of all her grandchildren, especially the little ones (they can easily get into the most difficult places) and feeds them all with pies.

Firuza - tiefling-cat (rakshasa), my street bully 🐈 Bloodrager with demonic heritage. Lives in Absalom, but judging by her slight accent she comes from the Empire of Kelesh. The brute force of the team and it's got a lot of intimidation! 💪🏻

Ruggiero* - an alchemist, also a client. A very charming, decent young tiefling from Cheliax with secrets of his own (HE'S WANTED IN TWO COUNTRIES AND BY THE HELLKNIGHTS!!!) 🧪

*Once I saw him at the game and his portrait, I screamed for a long time in my head... I probably don't need to explain that I have a weakness for dark-haired, curly-haired tieflings? Yes I'm a sinner 🗿

There will be a next post about Firuza, in case anyone was wondering ;D

[lukedanger]

Owlcatober - Day 2 - Fake Names (KM)

Day 2 of @owlcatober, focusing on a group of differently named adventurers preparing to infiltrate the Kingdom of the Cleansed...

[Ao3 Link]

And so dear readers, we leave the tale of the Baroness to follow the deeds of Sir Tristian, friend to Amalia of the Kingdom of the Cleansed! And the tale is now written not by Linzi the [insert title later], but Brynn the Ca

“Story check.”

Linzi looked up as she was interrupted by Ekundayo, her heavy maille shirt rustling as she did. They were all dressed differently, even Tristian had traded his Sarenite robes for the earthen robes of a humble pilgrim. A large black furred wolf with a riding harness was also sitting by the fire with them, next to Tristian at the moment.

“C’mon,” Amiri growled, clearly unhappy without her oversized sword in favor of the javelins, hatchet, and small shield of a skirmisher, “We went over this a bunch of times. I’m not dumb, I’m even learning those stupid letters!”

“Stories fall apart in the details,” Ekun retorted, having wrapped his head in cloth in a Thuvian style. “I will start: Taiwo, mercenary from Thuvia. Came north to see the world, offered to guide Tristian’s party. Prefer to be left alone.”

Amiri grunted, shaking head. “Fine - Valeria, thief from Numeria. Got caught robbing a League tower, sold as a slave, broke out after pushing a mill wheel for years, looking for a new life in Gevaudan.” She glanced at Octavia, “You next.”

“You had to use that as a background…” the wizardess exhaled, shaking her head despite the large pointy hat and thick black robes she was wearing. “Okay: Aurelia, necromancer from Galt trying to redeem herself. Fond of quite good whisky, late night strolls, and hates cities.”

Their attention turned to Kaessi, wearing a worn gambeson with a spear propped next to her seat on a log. “Layla. I came here to make a new life away from Qadira, joined a village militia with other settlers, and deserted after the troll attacks.” She cast a particularly harsh glare towards Tristian - the kind that stayed whether she was feeling kind or harsh that day. “So why does he not need to lie?”

“Amalia is… not fully aware,” Tristan admitted, looking down as if in shame as he was judged by kindness. “She knows me only as a humble pilgrim who was interested in how the Kingdom of the Cleansed offers redemption.”

“The covers were my suggestion,” Ekundayo added, “to reduce suspicion.” He turned to Linzi, then frowned at her notes. “I thought you left the book behind? Too iconic.”

Linzi exhaled. Yes, he had been quite firm on that. “A Cavalier of the Paw still has her entry in the annals to consider! A worthy cause sought, and a worthier one to charge into!” She stood up, the heroicness of the pose rather dampened by stumbling. Linzi was unused to the weight of maille on her shoulders, even with the belt of strength that Valerie had lent her.

“Regardless,” the bard-pretending-to-be-cavalier continued, “You can be sure to follow Brynn into gllloorrrrrrious battle!”

“Speaking of paws,” Amiri grumbled, “where’s Dog?”

Ekun sighed. “Too known. Besides, someone else plays the role of war wolf. Brynn?”

“Oh, right,” Linzi had almost forgotten the most important part! “Thank you Sir Tristian for keeping an eye on Gnaw while at Tuskdale!”

She could see Kaessi tilting her head and mouthing ‘Gnaw’ in confusion as the large black furred wolf rose and sniffed Tristian’s hand.

“Perhaps you should get her out of the harness for tonight,” Tristian suggested, gesturing towards Linzi.

“Oh, of course!” Linzi really should have known better. She didn’t have a squire, after all! Then again, I end up playing squire often enough… she thought as she started removing the strapping. Oh, if only she could write what she was really doing: she knew readers would have a laugh at it.

Hopefully the Baroness did not realize it either. That would be awkward. And embarrassing.

====

NOTES:

While I do not plan on doing as much with Kingmaker for Owlcatober, I did want to do a few things and test the waters a bit. Since KM was my first stab into Pathfinder at all I went relatively generic, and the baroness I rolled for it ended up as the proto version of Elaina. I've been mulling on ways to reroll her to stand out as her own character. Luckily, a confluence of circumstances such as the name I grabbed for the barony and certain problems like "They're In This Together!" constantly repeating offered an idea...

[alijuan]

There's no rule against sci-fi elements in medieval fantasy. In TES there's literally AI and even mind uploading, but it doesn't feel absurd or like a retcon, because Sotha Sil improved the dwemer technology that was created with tonal magic. In Pathfinder 2e there're guns and technological relics from an alien civilization.

The problem is that Dragon Age was never like that in terms of technology. There was no evidence of elves or anyone else using it. We haven't seen remnants of ancient technology in elven ruins in previous games. Elvhenan was a magical empire like normal elven empire in fantasy. It wasn’t a place where magic was combined with engineering. So when the Arlathan forest is full of ancient devices that look like they're straight out of Clockwork City or Numeria, and the Veil Jumpers are using some sort of engineering instruments, it's weird.

[starlightcleric]

Stealing an open tag from @arendaes for this picrew, my first and most recent Owlcat girls!

Top:

Queen Adia Rih, NG tiefling Kineticist from Nex

Knight Commander Lorraine Summerglen, LG halfling Monk/Rogue/Paladin of Shelyn from Varisia

Bottom:

Baroness Amber Leanora Orlovsky, LN half-elf Investigator from Brevoy

Knight Commander Cassandra Talivere, N human Kineticist from Numeria

[yunessa]

To say that Mendev was defined by its conflict with the Worldwound is accurate, but a simple explanation. Look at the countries that surrounded it. Each one eyeing their border as the Worldwound expanded. Calling it a disease or a cancer would be accurate- after extensive conversations with my companions, I can say that it’s one of the greatest threats to life on Golarion today.

Not a threat to Chelix, for example, not today or even next year. But the expansion of the worldwound is only slowed by the numerous lives that come to fight it and until this crusade started, the Ward stones that lined its border. What happens when the lives of the brave, the adventurous and the expendable start to slow down? If there was no crusade and the Ward stones failed- or were corrupted to increase the speed of the Worldwound’s growth?

Then Cheliax might very well be squinting at it’s borders next year as demons lurk on the horizon. But you could say that for any nation that is not currently bordering the Worldwound.

Every nation occupied by civilised minds hates the Worldwound. For it tries to grow, constantly pushing its boundaries. It cares little for what country it borders, only that it grows.

According to Daeran and Nurah- both knowledgable about the world stage-, Numeria and Ustalav are not actively battling the Worldwound. The realm of the Mammoth Lords fights, but to what extent I have no idea. I assume they do 

So it is Mendev who is the Worldwound’s most vehement opponent.  But if I am to retake the hold of Drezen I will need to look outward for support. Mendev has very little to its name after a century of war. Much of its support comes from the rest of the world.

People without knowledge of economics and the worldwound might not believe it, but a century of war does not leave you with much of anything to your name. Support comes from lands as far away as Cheliax and Andoran, to name two of the bigger ones. Nobody wants to be the nation with the Worldwound on their doorstep with citizens that only know of the war that has been going on since their grandparents were alive.

If I am to retake Drezen then I must handle more than just politics among the crusaders. Even now I have soldiers from Andoran, three elves from Kyonin, a tiefling that claims to have travelled from far-away Kelesh to fight the Worldwound. I have had Seelah go about the camp- she’s friendly, cheerful, and people love to speak with her- to find out other places I could reach out for aide.  We have a list already, but Seelah is good at talking to people. Adding in Woljif's connections and I'm sure we can get a good network.

How supplies will get here is another matter. Daeran tried to explain to me, but I’ve never seen such math before in my life, ‘nor have I seen it applied to wagons, teleportation, or the specifics needed for a teleportation network. How he understands this maths is beyond me. I’ve never applied such numbers and lines to my magic.

Daeran tried to explain imaginary numbers to me as he showed me the supply plans. I’m certain he was actively attempting to torment me rather than alleviate my disbelief. Numbers can’t be imaginary can they? If numbers were imaginary then how would anything get done? I found a new thing to fear.

I have written this all down in a list of things I should not forget. The many potential supplies, tasks, and other things now make a list fifty pages long- and as of right now still growing as  I spend my evening time speaking to my quartermaster. I suspect once we retake Drezen, even Horgus Gwerm and Wilcer Garms will have headaches managing everything that will be needed.

-Yunessa

[starres-stuff]

Day 3- Tempest FFXIV Write 2024

Tempest: to raise a tempest in or around

CW/TW: Dark Themes, Mature Themes, Hints at Abusive Upbringing.

Long before Vi and Dimitri another story existed, the story of their Mother; Saphelle Jienuex. 

“What will you do to suffer no more? Will you plead with the Dragons to eat them? Will you hire thugs to kill them in the streets or will you submit to me, girl?” Hers was always a cruel and scathing voice when she spoke. The distant specter of the void hungered for another of the Jienuex line to pay her price and step into her trap. Saphelle had noted that she had tripled her visits in recent weeks, her whispers far more tangible than normal. 

“Are you done yet?” the young Elezen asked from the shadows she brooded in, lavender eyes lingering on what appeared to be the shapely figure of a woman cast upon her wall. “We have gone through this nightly Numeria Ichatan” 

A low hiss was her reply and long; needle-like claws moved towards her across her wall, their intention to siphon some of her Aether to remind her of her place but they never did reach her, trying as she might. The girl seemed to be shielded by a powerful ward that a simple voidsent could not break through. 

“My name is not yours to use, girl.” The voice called back, a screeching sound coming from the wall, always dramatic this one was; hells bent on getting her own way. 

“I will use whatever I please.” Saphelle was in no mood for parlor tricks or over-dramatic theatrics. She had sought her darkness to tend to the wounds left behind by a drunken Father who did not know how to keep his hands to himself and needed them broken finger by finger to learn a lesson. He was not the only one either, the cruel gaze of her Mother as she watched him dish out his punishment. “He is sick Saphelle” the spineless creature would whisper later when they were alone, trying to make up for the things that had happened. This was her every night, some macabre play she had been birthed into one moonless night.

“Say yes and it will all be over.” The whisper teased again, there was nothing she wanted more than for it to be over. Soon to be twenty-one and not promised for marriage as any other Ishgardian noble daughter her age would have been. There had been other unfortunate things like this in her young life. No debutante ball, no sweet sixteen, and certainly no entertaining suitors come to ask for her hand.

“And what will you take from me in return to solve my problems Numeria Ichatan?” her, own, cruel smile appeared as she said the name again, a name she had found scrawled into the journal of her ancestors Neophinne the Scholar, her Mhachi ancestors who had been summoner, handler, and lover to the creature that followed her. 

“Nothing now, only after your death. I would claim your name and body as my own. I would live out your days as I lived our Neophinne’s, as I saw fit. In return, I will leave them as empty husk devoid of Aether, a fitting end for what they have offered you.”

Ah, the feelings that rose in Saphelle as she listened, the cold smile devoid or emotion that curled on her lips, as lost herself in the thoughts of all of this being hers. Oh, the sweet notes of revenge that hummed in her ears now. As much as she hated to admit it, the Voidsents price was small for something that would put her plan into motion. 

“You win. I will take your bargain.” Saphelle returned her attention to the wounds on her arms and stomach, a cotton ball dabbing at the lash marks from her Father's whip with a very sterile astringent that her Mother made to care for things such as this. 

“We have an oath then? Do you consent to the pact? Their death and your freedom for the right to claim your body when your soul goes on to the Sea?” The shadows moved and the form of a succubus emerged from them, gliding across the floor without her feet touching as if she was some twisted angel here to be the benevolent savior of the young woman. 

“I agree to your terms.” A slim hand rose, garnets glittering across her pale skin on golden bands “I would like it to be my Birthday present, we will be attending the theater as we always do to celebrate. When it is over we will emerge in the right alleyway from our private box. I expect them not to emerge from the alley.” 

The succubus took her hand turning it over and taking one of her claws to etch a symbol into the skin when completed the symbol glowed with the power of the void and a pair of grotesque lips touched hers, they felt like old parchment dry and ready to decay. 

“An exchange of Aether to seal the pact.” Saphelle's eyes grew wide as she felt her breath sucked out of her lungs, leaving her to gasp for air and then seconds later the voidsent breathed into her an old air that tasted like decay, causing the young woman to shudder in disgust. 

“Three days count them and I will be at your side” Her presence faded then leaving Saphelle alone in the darkness, her empty eyes filled with a vivid ruby light and her emotionless smile became a beacon of hope in the dismal gray. 

 “Happy Birthday to me.”  A short laugh burst forth from her lips into the room, the echo of it ominous and foreboding. She knew well the tempest that she had released that night, the creeping death that would set right all she had endured to this point. It would be a chaotic storm, but she would see the other side. 

[monstersdownthepath]

Bit of a focused Golarion ask, but is there anything on how seriously are legends and stories from other parts of the world taken in the Inner Sea region? Was inspired by the Grendel stuff, and was wondering whether scholars and academic circles from the more civilized lands like Taldor and Cheliax, or Absalom even, would scoff at stories about an unkillable super-troll or a 10,000+ year-old wyrm. Or, if they're still very aware that the wilds of Golarion are home to many ancient terrors.

Well this is a Golarion-focused blog, so asks like this are welcome!

On some level, I think Golarion is wild enough that you could probably convince the populace of anything, but the individual still maintains a degree of skepticism. The average Andoren probably thinks rumors of mass slave sacrifice and devil worship in Cheliax is nothing more than sensationalism, while the common Chelish soldier is likely convinced his generals tales of how Andoran is guarded by a 12-foot-tall invincible eagle man is nothing but hogwash meant to scare new recruits. And both the Andoren and Chelish citizen don't believe anything you tell them about the Land of the Linnorm Kings (or Numeria for that matter). There's probably two whole generations of people on the Isle of Kortos who don't know what a horse is.

For the educated types who actually delve into specific topics, it probably goes something like "heard about a weird monster, so I did some research" and depending on how reliable their sources are, they can either conclude what they heard is exaggerated stories, or that there's a grain of truth to the rumors (while the rest is exaggerated story). In either case, it's up to them to take the initiative and look into more thorough and reliable sources. Many city-folk would dismiss the idea of Fafnheir until they encountered a real dragon, for example; seeing what a dragon can do may change their mind about the stories they heard about a legendary beast that lives far to the north. More mundanely, even among battle-hardened researchers and field cryptozoologists, the Sasquatch is believed to be a myth by anyone who's never personally met one.

Still, even with reliable resources, someone may come to the complete wrong conclusion such as, per the example in the ask, believing Grendel is no more than a particularly intelligent and stealthy Troll instead of the legendary creature he is. It's all about what knowledge and resources they have access to and whether or not they have a reason to pursue the truth... and whether or not the truth can be safely or sanely pursued. There may only be unreliable stories about the various beasts of legend, because the only people who survived meeting them were too broken to tell an accurate tale.

[golariontoday]

Torch, Numerian Plains, Numeria https://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Torch

[dailycharacteroption]

Keeper of Construct (Inquisitor Archetype)

(art by nolan192 on DeviantArt)

It’s time for another archetype geared around killing and disabling constructs… but this one isn’t from construct handbook this time! So I am only halfway reminded of the biggest disappointment in First Edition for me!

In any case, this archetype is tied to the Goddess Brigh (and occasionally Torag), who presides over invention and machines. While the Whisper in Bronze is normally content to let inventors create in peace, sometimes it becomes clear that those that devote themselves to creating mechanical servitors and other wondrous inventions do so without the common benefit in mind. Those that use such constructs as vengeful assassins and tools of revenge, or that sic them on civilians as acts of terror and cruelty are her enemies.

Emulating her wishes and the powers of her herald: the Latten Mechanism, some of her priests take up arms against such violent and cruel creators, seeking to either free their constructed creations from them, or barring that, putting them down s they can no longer cause harm.

Such keepers are found both in Numeria and Alkenstar, where the worship of Brigh and the crafting of constructs is common, but they might be anywhere where constructs are found in great numbers, and their creators need policing, both in and outside the Lost Omens setting.

Divinely guided by their patron, these construct hunters are able to aim for the weak spots of constructed foes, bypassing the durability of most and at least somewhat piercing those that cannot be pierced by adamantine alone.

Their presence and knowledge of construct behavior allows them to make constructs hesitate, almost as if they were afraid.

Additionally, there are few that are more knowledgeable about construct strengths and weaknesses than them.

More powerful individuals can even command constructs that do not belong to them, even wresting them away from the direct control of their master, though this is limited in what they can command and how often they can do so.

This is a pretty solid construct-hunting archetype, though some of the abilities raise questions. Most constructs have DR bypassed by adamantine, so having limited ability to pierce other types of DR on constructs is a bit niche. Furthermore, while the ability to implant suggestions in constructs is nice, it does not say whether this bypasses the magic immunity of golems and golem-like constructs, which I feel is definitely a needed clarification. In any case, this archetype is a bit niche, but not so much so that they’re powerless outside of fights with constructs, but they can really excel in campaigns with lots of robots, clockworks, and other constructs about.

As written, these inquisitors seem to be focused on the preservation of mechanical life that can be saved, so if you’re looking for an archetype for a villain that seeks to destroy sapient machines for whatever reason, such as because they have gained sapience, this might not be what you’re looking for unless you outright change the flavor of the class, which could be fun if you want to apply it to a less benevolent god or philosophy.

The Brass Key clan of dwarves are famous for their clockwork marvels, which range from automatic mechanisms for running public works to full-fledged constructs. However, not all who create these wonders do so peacefully, so in the name of The Maker, there are sects of priests dedicated to putting a stop to such villainy and blasphemy.

The world of the Shattered Tower has been wiped nearly clean of life, leaving behind the relics of civilization and horribly monstrous wildlife alongside the automatons that survived their creators. Most machines try to live peacefully and find new meaning in this ruined world, but others still bear the programming of death and war that brought this ruin, forcing the others to take up arms to protect themselves and the last bastions of life.

The party needs a construct breaker to help handle the guardians of the tomb of Hakshesu, and they find one in Lova Windercoil, who is tasked with handling any automaton guardians while the party deals with mummies and other guardians. However, Lova cannot help but question the application of her divine gifts towards destroying constructs that are no danger to anyone but interlopers.

[sabrerine911]

Numeria commission I did for Theliandri117

Commissions are open

Pm me if interested

[pizzafishandchips]

15. "Let's try this"

Fandom - Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous (fanfic) Content warnings - some depictions of violence, strong language Other notes - spoilers for a particular mission in Act 3

The heavy metal doors slide shut behind the party with a sound of finality as the empty expression of Hundred-Face stares them down.

“We will now begin the preparations for modernization,” it intones, completely devoid of emotion.

The towering crystal beacons come to life, bathing the metallic room around them in an eerie, unearthly glow. An electric blue wall comes down around their foe, crackling with deadly energy, and the knight commander swears that if Hundred-Face was capable of expressing emotion comprehensible by Golarion standards, she’s sure it would have looked smug.

Large, thicker towers further back in the room also light up, and Ollerus eyes them warily. She’s been in this cursed bunker for long enough to understand the foundations of its defenses; she can make out some of the wiring protruding from the beacons and practically trace the paths of electric current in her mind’s eye. It’s almost enough to elicit a sigh; in spite of being her chosen element, after this little venture a part of her would be perfectly happy if she never beheld a bolt of lightning ever again.

“Uh, Chief…” Woljif nervously cautions behind her.

In spite of her restraint, a quick, irritated exhale escapes through Ollerus’s nostrils. What was it about anything related to Numeria that made everything so unnecessarily complicated? The entire Blackwater settlement is a reminder of all the things she learned to hate about the place she used to call home, as well as a dark mirror for parts of her she would sooner forget if she could. Glancing around, taking in all the twisted circuitry, the alien mechanisms, all coming together to create an oppressive atmosphere that screams of arrogance and conceit over anyone it deems inferior for simply not understanding concepts no one reasonable could ever know, she scoffs.

Fucking Numerians. So smart it turns them stupid.

With a casual roll of her shoulders, Ollerus regards Hundred-Face with something akin to pity before a contemptuous smirk widens across her lips.

“Well, well, well, look at you, and this elaborate little puzzle you’ve set us up in. I’m sure you think you’re so clever.” she drawls. Cracking her knuckles, she slowly backs up, gesturing at the group to huddle closer together. Magic sparks across the sorcerer’s fingers as her smile and disdain grows. “Alright, then. Let’s try this.”

The entire party disappears in a dim flash, the Dimension Door spell teleporting them within the electric cube Hundred-Face so complacently walled itself into. Everyone within except for the commander freezes for a brief moment as they try to comprehend what just happened. Hundred-Face, for all its data and personalities, cannot come to terms with the situation fast enough before she greets him with a murderous grin.

“I bet you thought this whole time we were stuck in here with you and your experiments, weren’t you? Well, it is my greatest pleasure to humble you because gods know you need it and tell you that no, you are in fact stuck in here with me.”

It’s just enough time for the rest of her companions to react accordingly; brandishing a hand she blasts the composite entity right into the barrier it considered a shield mere seconds ago, barely flinching when it screams as the electricity rips through its body. The rest of her party rush forward and rain blows down on their unsuspecting foe, and the attack is so sudden and swift that it’s over within moments.

With Hundred-Face’s mangled body sitting at their feet, the electric barrier and crystal beacons dim with not nearly as much fanfare as when they initially lit. Ollerus hums and whistles while the others continue to wrestle with their disbelief over the astoundingly short bout no one saw coming. She crouches down near its broken form, tempted to rub her upset in its face in spite of its emotionless state.

Despite the brutal beating, it retains enough consciousness to roll its gaze up at her. It speaks of the nearby machine that sits at the center of all this chaos, pleading in its own mechanical way for its continued operation as it passes the machine’s control codes to her. And then, as if it recognizes something within her, its speech changes, and for the first time in months the commander hears a tongue she thought she left behind.

“Its potential is limitless. It will run the necessary procedures on mortal candidates with no need for your input. You will be able to make use of the results.”

A rush of fury courses through her, and whether it’s due to its emotionless certainty or the language in which it expresses its last words, she’s unsure. Ollerus barely resists the urge to utterly crush Hundred-Face’s head completely underfoot, but as whatever equivalent of life it possesses fades, she’s seized by an idea. A devious, potentially cruel idea, but in the mood she’s in she no longer has the strength to hold back. And given the constant reminders of home this place has forced upon her, she has to remember that she never had much of a good heart to begin with, no matter how much she wishes to rectify that.

Where the party stands, they can only see her rummaging around their fallen foe’s corpse before she regards the intimidating machinery that’s made the madness within this underground bunker possible. They can only watch in confusion as she does something with it. If anyone notices the small glowing gadget she possesses after interacting with it, or the circlet that was previously sitting around Hundred-Face’s head, they say nothing, unwilling to question their eccentric knight commander in an effort to leave the settlement as soon as possible.

Ollerus says nothing about her actions as they leave, and no one asks. The gears in her head continuously turn throughout the journey back to Drezen, her dreams plagued by memories of neon lights and otherworldly machinery.