#hand of the inheritor

[kutkhart]

I was just practicing... So many tags (ಡ‸ಡ)

[darya-kf-games]

made a bit of a miss choosing a mythic path

[nnibarrel]

Aivu is a cat part 2??? Part 1, actually. Art's from 2021. Hand of the Inheritor is in trouble... He's sitting like that for hours) Help, champion!

[darkergrey]

Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous Hand of the Inheritor comic com 💛

There is a set of full-color images to follow-up this comic page as well as all my other not sfw artwork on the patron-site for 2 sp if you are interested!

[the-tomato-patch]

Death of the Hand of the Inheritor by Baphomet

[galagraphia]

Springmaker Day 1 - Adventure.

[annasmafroo]

inheribro

[cawyden-gaming]

Thank you for the tag @lylakoi ❤️

Rules: make a poll with five of your all-time favorite characters, and then tag five people to do the same. see which character is everyone's favorite

Tagging everyone who wants to play and @holylustration, @noelle666, @bnbc, @totallynotzzombiecat and @maggotknight

[mafisadi]

stupid hand of the inheritor makes me feel things

[laiskanpulskeart]

I've been playing Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous A LOT lately. And of course making art of every brainfart that goes through my head. I got to the Mythic selection on Drezen and realised I had forgotten to pick the Aeon option in Gray Garrison, and my Armiger/Hellknight would NOT pick anything else available so he became an Angel. Which. REALLY. Doesn't. Fit. Him. Either. But I love the Hand of the Inheritor so much. My shiny bestie. I'm remaking my Hellknight but wanted these two to have a BFF portrait before abandoning this save. I even gave them matching BFF shields to remember each other by.

[angel-tournament]

Round 1: Hand of the Inheritor from Pathfinder vs. Gabriel from Ultrakill

Hand of the Inheritor:

- herald of the warrior goddess Iomedae so he respects women

- surrounded by a halo of spinning blades, I mean come on that's so character design of him

Gabriel:

- has a homoerotic battle with a machine he was sent to kill

- realized god is dead and killed the council of heaven about it

[cassynite]

A bit late on this one but I wonder about Sparrow and someone large and comforting like the Hand of the Inheritor?

Ooooh my god. Okay. Okay so. My first initial reaction was "wouldn't work out, Sparrow would dip out of that relationship the moment the Hand fucks off after finding out the truth about the mythic powers" but then I thought about it and. I think there's something there. Buckle up because I swear this came to me in like, a fucking vision, it goes places.

So Sparrow is not very close to the Hand at first. He's Iomadae's herald and clearly believes that Sparrow has been chosen by the goddess despite Sparrow's own doubts and the lack of definitive proof. But they get closer in Pulura's Falls; Sparrow sees just how much good the Hand has in him and how much he wants to help others; the Hand sees Sparrow's kindness and compassion for others in how she helps the people in the Falls with their problems. By the end of the quest he's absolutely certain that Iomadae chose her not because of her power but because she's the kind of person a goddess should choose; he would have chosen her as champion in Iomadae's place! There's a lot of admiration there, and it definitely increases once Targona is rescued--Sparrow shows herself to be strong, capable, and deeply kind.

In this scenario, I think that Sparrow and the Hand start talking beyond their duties and responsibilities. Sparrow ruminates on the nature of goodness and choice and argues against the ideas of inherent evil. The Hand is obviously an extraplanar being who exists within a plane of Good, so his perspective is very different (though not entirely against Sparrow's arguments--after all, an angel can fall and a demon can rise. Clearly not even creatures born out of positive and negative/lawful and chaotic energies within the universe are static). It leads to a lot of discussion about what the best way to eradicate evil would be, if that was even possible or feasible, and what a plan to do so might look like. They also talk about things like, redemption and forgiveness, and even in one charged conversation, about love and its strength.

It's all theoretical and philosophical discussions, and while I don't think the Hand necessarily challenges Sparrow on a high intellectual way, he has a very different mindset and worldview that is engaging to learn about and he's willing to hear and listen to her ideas. Sparrow is galvanized to do more good and focus on those plans and hypotheticals; she begins to imagine the kind of work she could do with her abilities and her ideas after the Crusade.

They storm the Fane; Galfrey attempts to take Sparrow's title. Sparrow, still non-confrontational and dealing with imposter syndrome, accepts the criticism at face value, but the Hand argues vehemently against Galfrey's assessments of Sparrow's ability as Commander, even more so than in canon. It's deeply touching to Sparrow to have someone come to her defense like that, for someone to believe in her so wholeheartedly.

They go to the Abyss. It's awful, and Sparrow hates it, but she also shows compassion and care wherever she can, continuing to prove to the Hand that she has that sense of goodness in her. She frees captives, kills slavers, argues in favor of taking in Xorges in because he is more than just a Qlippoth...and then Battlebliss happens and Sparrow is captured to be a battle slave. Like in her canon, she has a complete meltdown in captivity, a full-on panic attack. The Hand feels helpless. Despite how bad of an idea it would be, he very nearly appears to rescue her personally; it's only Zeklex telling Sparrow he can help her escape that stops him from going through with it.

While Sparrow is resting before her fight in the arena, the Hand tries to comfort her, though he can't understand why her reaction was just that intense. Sparrow, in a rare show of vulnerability, talks about her past with the Hand--her slavery, the abuse she suffered for years, how she had only just escaped it, and how this was like walking right back into a trap. Feeling the collar on her neck makes her want to scream. And the Hand comforts her, and tells her that no matter what he will ensure she gets out of this, that she will never be alone and he will never let this happen to her again. It's a very intense moment, and it works to calm Sparrow--this is also the moment where she falls in love with him, though she won't face that fact for a while. She ends up escaping the Battlebliss in a far better mental state than in canon.

Then, of course, Sparrow meets Nocticula and Areelu, and she finds out the source of her powers are from the Abyss, and--horrified--the Hand leaves. It's a terrible blow, and Sparrow struggles to hide just how badly she took it in front of everyone, focusing only on the matter at hand. She tries to tell herself that of course he left--why does she ever expect anything different?

She goes back to the Nexus and meets him, and he expresses his doubts about her, how she's not actually the chosen of Iomadae...it's like he crafted the perfect speech to make her feel the worst way possible. Everything about their friendship--about whatever they had, because Sparrow might not admit it but her feelings at this point are not platonic--was based on the Hand's belief that Sparrow was something she was not, and she's been deemed unworthy. She's not enough.

Sparrow doesn't argue, she just says she's going to stop the crystal production with or without him--chosen by a goddess or not, and she never thought she was, she's going to stop more superpowered demons from hurting people. Like in canon, this brings the Hand around, and he apologizes for his doubts and travels with the party to the Nahyndrian Crystal Mines.

On the ship ride there, the Hand and Sparrow speak privately, the Hand again apologizing for his words and for his doubts. Sparrow brushes it off, withdrawn and defenses all the way up; she tells him that she couldn't have expected anything else, given the circumstances. It definitely sounds closer to "I don't expect anything else from anyone but for them to abandon me when I need them most." At least, that's how the Hand hears it.

It's a bad resolution and whatever they had before feels fractured and lost as they face off Baphomet. Even so, when Baphomet "kills" the Hand, Sparrow screams in despair.

Act 5, after Sparrow has chosen to keep the power--because she's made it her own, and she refuses to accept anything can only be what it comes from--she immediately works on finding the Ineluctable Prison after Iomadae tells her the Hand is alive. She breaks through the prison, finds the Hand's tortured heart, and faces off with his corrupted husk--and the Hand tells her that it's pointless, that he's not worth saving anyway. That he loved her and he failed her and now he's going to kill her, in the emotionless voice of someone who is aware of what he once felt but now cannot feel anything at all.

Of course, that's not what happens. Sparrow defeats him, and gives him his heart--he tries to refuse at first, saying he doesn't deserve it, and Sparrow insists. He takes it back, and the feeling returns--especially the guilt. No matter what Sparrow says, he will not return to Iomadae's side. He's not worthy of it, any more. He tells Sparrow that he needs...something, to find something to truly become good again. That he was unworthy of her and that he broke her trust and her faith, and that he cannot stand by her side as he is, especially with these feelings he has.

And Sparrow breaks down. She asks if he's really going to leave again. She tells him that if he really loved her--the way she loved him--then worthiness would have nothing to do with it. He'd just fucking stay. And the Hand goes silent, cups her cheek in his hand. And then leaves. Sparrow doesn't speak at all the entire way back to Drezen.

She returns back to...Iomadae, waiting for her, with an angel at Iomadae's side. The angel calls Sparrow by name and she realizes it's the Hand, out of armor for the first time she's ever seen him. He tells her that he wanted to show Iomadae that he was alive, and also to formally request to leave his position as her Herald. He cannot stay in the position with the weakness he has shown--Iomadae cuts in saying she doesn't agree with his assessment, but won't stop him from making his own choices.

He goes to Sparrow and asks if she meant it, when she told him that it didn't matter if he was worthy or not. And Sparrow tells him that love has nothing to do with worthiness, and he tells her he will stay. They close the Worldwound together, and when he goes on his journey to spread goodness among mortals, he has Sparrow by his side.

[nnibarrel]

Sticker collab in ask (vk link). We redrawn takiimikiku emoji base. Do not use, leave credits when repost, pls :3 Our artists: Socothbenoth - velvetChaika Knight Commander Alexandra - Dr.Pasta @doctorpasta Regongar, Knight Commander Jest - RadSilv sofiajestovna Baroness Elaine - Meval Hant of the Inheritor - Mursia Tristian - Earendiliel @laurelinlote Regill (also organizer) - kutkh_art (2 - there are no words, but I will write a report) Ember - sadruru @sadruru (1 - BAN) Ramien - nni_barrel (me...) Minago - Dzirrat Mephistopheles - dolores_inferni (Meph is holding "application for hospitalization in a psychiatric hospital". Like, for someone to fill and sign.) Woljif - Riigoje (1 - your money is in my pocket, 2 - donate on cherry roll) Kalikke - shapardchan TtA, LoN dlc protagonist Korvun - @coffeewithacold (don't join the dark side, we have cookies too) Maegar Varn - @boggubozakatochnihmashinok (3 - *happy chaotic sounds*)

[spyridonya]

During Act 4, the origin of your powers is made clear by everyone’s favorite naked lady, Nocticula, and everyone’s favorite mom, Areelu. Before this revelation, the Hand of the Inheritor is your KC’s biggest fan. He’s going to the Abyss for you. He’ll defend you against his possible future successor. He absolutely believes in you.

And then he finds the power comes from dead demon lords and is devastated. During this devastation,  Nocticula mentions that the Hand of the Inheritor was once the Hand of Vengeance for the empyreal lord known as  Ragathiel, the General of Vengeance who was a half devil and yet was accepted by Heaven.

This is Ragathiel. Ragathiel’s mother is Feronia, a demigoddess of the Plane of Fire. His father? A former empyreal lord who fell with Asmodeus and was given the 2nd layer of Hell to rule, the archdevil Dispater.

Ragathiel was raised by his mother outside of Hell after his parents amicable divorce. And he was one angry little shit of an angel (little is relative, he’s like 21 feet tall in his chosen form). Though he was an angel, Heaven did not trust him. Rags had to fight for a thousand years, kill countless monsters, kill thousands of devils, eventually killed Typhon, the original ruler of the first layer of Hell (Asmodeus say he totally allowed that to happen, but Asmodeus is an asshole), and had to get one of his six wings lopped off by his father in battle to prove that - no, he’s not an evil devil.

And it was only after that that the Hand joined Rags as his herald - the Hand of Vengeance.

In comparison, all it takes an Angel Commander is to go “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I’m gonna go out and do good (without making a monastic order of assassins to kill other in the name of good) anyway”.

The Hand really learns to trust an Angel KC and feel regret with most KCs in a matter of weeks. 

[daisymeade]

In which Birgir's situation gets worse:

He's like, "Oh shit, oh fuck, Ulbrig's going to hate me now. Conceal DON'T FEEL, BIRG."

Now that's a rude ass thing to say to a tiefling in particular, Broheritor.

Why thank you, ma'am. He's definitely questioning his entire life right now.

[lukedanger]

Wasn't able to complete the first chapter in time, but since today is the solstice, a little preview of something I'm working on for Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous fanfic.

----

The winter night was cold, snow falling gently, but Arueshalae paid it no mind. Even without her innate resistance to such as a demon, she was focused on the woman sitting across from her. She needed to make this right.

“I deflected her skeptical questioning darts,” Arueshalae began, hoping she had the tone right, “with armor made of purest devotion / purged in the forge of my heart / from the slag of any baser emotion…”

“‘The Storming of the Castle of Love’?” the other woman asked, an amused smirk crossing her face. “Do you see me as that much of a ‘civilizing’ influence?”

“Perhaps,” Arueshalae answered as she smiled. “Courtly love was your idea, Elaina.”

The paladin’s smirk shifted into a smile as she put a hand out on the table. Arueshalae hesitated - they were both wearing gloves, but her touch could still go through. What if… just close, no touching, she told herself, setting her own hand down nearby but not touching.

“Actually, I asked Sosiel,” the demon admitted, almost stammering as she explained. “He gave me a whole book. Not Shelyn’s text, poems from across Avistan. I read through trying to find one that fit, then managed to hear it at the Half Measure…”

Elaina interrupted her there. “It’s okay, Arueshalae - you did it right. The idea is to get a discussion going, on something we’re both on even ground about.”

“Right, right.” The idea of rules to love still seemed weird to her, at most charitable, but Sosiel was confident when she had managed to muster up enough courage to ask him for help. “You have Heaven’s light, the light of a plane where duty and goodness are in equal measure. Everything the Abyss is not. How can I not look at you and see virtues to tame these horrid desires?”

“Not all of them are horrid.”

“No, not all,” Arueshalae admitted as she dared reach for Elaina’s fingers. Even through the gloves, she could feel the life - the soul - so full of light and growing power. 

And she was beautiful to the eyes as well as to the touch - a woman with gray eyes and her light brown hair combed back to stay out of her face, falling just past her shoulders. Pale like many of Golarion’s northern humans, almost certainly accentuated by growing up in an Iomedean abbey. The halo that her mythic power granted her only added to the luster, even if Elaina kept such beauty hidden outside of battle.

Surely a little- No, Arueshalae clamped down on the feeling and pulled her hand away. Too soon, too fast. She wanted to share this moment, like Anevia and Irabeth after a long day…

Both of them were looking to the sky now, despite the clouds. The tower of Drezen’s citadel gave an excellent view that Arueshalae had often admired, but so often the night sky was obscured. If they were fortunate, it was Golarion’s native weather. If they were particularly unlucky, the Worldwound would spew out far worse. Tonight, their romantic outing was blessed with the planet’s own weather.

Still, Arueshalae felt like she had done something wrong. If the idea was these poems served as equal ground to start learning about each other, shouldn’t they be talking? She enjoyed the silence, just being there like mortals do, but she could feel herself tensing. Nothing at all like after sharing a meal with Sarzakys, but she still felt like she had done something wrong.

“Though, storming Drezen was very gallant,” she blurted out. It had somehow made sense in her head - a direct comparison from the poem to how they met. In the flesh, that is. Somehow, it seemed like a complete reach.

“I suppose I did rescue a fair lady from the dungeons,” Elaina looked over, still smiling. “But what about you? Stealing the demons’ plans took no small amount of courage, especially when you easily could have done nothing. If that is not courage, I do not know what is.”

“And yet it was not enough.”

“No, but that was not your fault. If your warning was not dismissed, perhaps Deskari never would have been able to storm Kenabres at the height of Armasse.”

Silence for a few moments… “Thank you,” Arueshalae finally said, wishing she could lean over and hug her, like Anevia had to Irabeth after a long day - managing Drezen, or their recent victory over Khorramzadeh on the Gray Road.

Instead, they had to settle for silence. The time taken, limited as it was with how many duties the Knight-Commander had. And for a mortal, was there anything more valuable? If only she had something besides her horrific demonic nature to-

Any further thoughts were drowned out as a bell rang - to a mortal, it would be melodious and warm, but to her demonic ears? To her very demonic being?

The ringing in her head caused her to stagger as she made it back to her feet. The ringing sounded like an alarm, which meant someone had gotten in. Was the Midnight Fane unleashing its hordes?

Elaina had reacted quickly, standing and reaching for the gilded longsword at her hip. Even without her armor, the paladin was ready to fight and ran to the opposite parapet, looking down to where the bell was. Arueshalae managed to stumble up after, catching the tail end of several children - at least one of them a mongrel or tiefling - running from the courtyard as the two Eagle Watch knights on guard duty that night chased after them.

“Kids…” Elaina exhaled as the ringing faded from Arueshalae’s head and she could think straight. The paladin saw Arueshalae, and her concern immediately shifted. “Are you okay? I know that the bell is not as harsh to you as-”

“I’m okay,” Arueshalae answered, waving her hand. “I just wasn’t expecting it. Just give me a minute and-”

Another flash of light. Bright, yellow-ish-white. Celestial teleportation. Who dared ruin her night - twice?! Her fangs bared, her nails lengthening into claws, ready to rip the throat out of whichever celestial prig had-

A deep and warm voice from an armored golden giant of an angel. “Champion! I heard the bell - is everything alright?”

That sanctimonious - No! Arueshalae forced herself to focus - the initial rush had passed. The Hand of the Inheritor would not threaten her, and he had already lowered his sword that was ready only in anticipation of a threat to all of Drezen. Elaina, sheathing Radiance, explained what happened as Arueshalae focused on pulling herself away from her fight instinct, forcing her nails back to their normal size.

“Oh, the follies of youth,” the Hand lamented, his halo of swords softening and glowing even warmer as he shook his head. Arueshalae wondered if he was smiling under his helmet, perhaps a faint residue of whatever righteous souls created him bubbling to the surface? Then the angel turned his attention towards her. “Are you alright, Arueshalae?”

“I was just surprised,” she explained, glancing at her hands to make sure her claws had gone back to normal. They had, and she was reassured by the exhaustion coming back as her rage ebbed.

The angel nodded once. “I am glad to hear it.” He glanced towards the reclined chairs, then to the stars. “If I may ask, have you laid plans for the Winter Solstice?”

Both women frowned. “What do you mean?” Arueshalae asked. “The longest night of the year?”

“And the second Ritual of Stardust in this planet’s year. Forgive me, I had assumed that as Desna’s protege, you would have been instructed as other devotees to the Song of the Spheres would be.”

“I- no, I never was inducted into the faith. I…” Arueshalae felt her throat tightening - admitting this to Elaina had been hard enough. “I try to avoid troubling Desna, after everything she has done.”

The Hand tilted his head towards her, his halo of swords slowing. “You were brought to the Great Dreamer’s aegis yet not taught what was expected?”

“I… I was told to discover my dream, but I still haven’t figured it out, even with the start of my own.”

Elaina looked between the two as the Hand kept his gaze, before his posture relaxed and he shook his head.

“Ah, I forget,” the angel admitted. “Please, do not be troubled. I am used to the orthodoxy of the Inheritor’s church, or Erastil’s flocks. Still, do you not speak to the priests of Desna serving the crusade?”

The Hand took a step back as Elaina stepped forward, partially interposing herself between the two.

“It’s okay,” Arueshalae told Elaina first, the paladin nodding as she stepped back to the side, then looked to the Hand. “I often think of it, but I am always afraid. I want to, but can I as long as I am this?” Arueshalae gestured with her hand from her horns, down along her torso, and ended just past her tail.

“You just gestured to all of you-” the Hand’s halo nearly stopped in its rotation as he nodded once. “I see.”

“I know that if I join them, I will just pollute whatever joy they find in it. And if the solstice is a particularly holy day…”

“Have you asked one of Desna's priests if it would be permissible?”

It was certainly an orthodox response, one to be expected of a heavenly angel. It was even a simple solution that made sense. Yet if she asked… a hundred outcomes raced through her mind. What if she angered them? How dare she ask for more when she already had been given so much. How many would turn on Desna for a demon joining their adepts? Would Hulrun’s inquisitors once more hunt Desna’s faithful because of her actions?

“Perhaps,” she said instead, but she knew she had paused long enough that her doubts were obvious.

The Hand nodded again. “I will take my leave, then. May your night be restful!” He chose a much less flashy exit, gently taking to the air with his wings before gliding down to the courtyard walls below and walking back to his usual tower.

Elaina turned her attention back to Arueshalae. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for the night to end up like this.”

“It’s not your fault - we both know the Hand is excitable.”

The paladin chuckled. “In a good way!” The smile faded as she looked to the stars. “That said, if you wanted to do something on the solstice, I can make sure that you have the time.”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I will do more than watch, but thank you. Maybe I’ll ask Anevia, see what she’s planning.”

“That’s a good idea…” Elaina glanced up, then to the keep. “I wish we could do this tomorrow, but Irabeth invited me for drinks.”

“Huh. Anevia had invited me for cards,” Arueshalae answered. Translation: Is this the Espionage Council?

“That explains the need for drinks after sundown.” Meaning that the Espionage Council was on as well, just after hours. “Maybe we could do this again the night after?”

“Sure!” The mood tonight was dead anyways thanks to those kids, right?  Of course it was. And well, the paladin also needed her own sleep - she had a long day tomorrow of council meetings.

“Then I shall remain your ardent admirer.”

“I- likewise,” Arueshalae barely caught herself. Right, the ‘proper’ farewell. “I mean, as will I.”

Elaina smiled, curtseying as the last silent word, then turned back into the keep, leaving the ascending succubus to her thoughts. Courtly love was weird. As if all the passion was lost in rite… or was just a few centuries out of date? Yet at the same time… Arueshalae decided to table it for now. They had not done it for very long, after all, and there was still much more to it. Hopefully, tomorrow’s council meetings would not exhaust them too much.