#hulrun

[vagrant-muffin]

Started Wrath of the Righteous. It’s going well!

[jean-dieu]

Torn between faith and fury: A Trial of Faith (Pathfinder WoTR)

Or how Raphaël abandonned his dreams of priesthood and jointed the Menedvian Inquisition.

(English isn't my first language, please forgive my mistakes ;-;)

---

"Raphaël Esdras."

An older human smiled kindly at the young tiefling who had just entered his office, nodding in approval. Raphaël was always diligent and on-time, it had not be ten minutes since he'd sent someone to fetch him that the priest-in-training was already there. Judging by the puzzled and slightly wary look on his face, the tiefling had no idea why he was called in his mentor's office… nor why he was there.

His mentor, Elev Beffroy, wasn't a surprise. After all, they were in his office. But why on Golarion was Hulrun Shappok there? Did the man finally find an excuse to drag him on trial?

After a brief moment, Raphaël realized he had been staring silently at the unexpected guest for a little too long, judging him as much as the inquisitor was judging him. None of them stared down, but Raphaël spoke first.

"M. Beffroy." The young man nods at his mentor, before turning to the intimidating figure that is Hulrun. "… Inquisitor."

"Please, take a seat." The priest said in his compassionate voice, kindly showing the only vacant chair in front of him and Hulrun. "I see you're not wearing your robes. Again." There was no reproach in his voice. It was merely an observation: Raphaël, once again, was not wearing his clerical gear, preferring much more practical clothes. And from the sweat beading his fur, the priest knew what the tiefling was up to..

"I'm glad to see you so eager to improve your swordfighting skills, but I'd rather see you practice your sermons. Your last ones were lacking depth if I recall correctly. Did you take into consideration my advice for your next-"

"I did." The young man objected, interrupting his mentor with a voice that he didn't want so agressive, his perpetual frown deepening ever so slightly. "I was just… Clearing my mind. I'll rewrite them tonight."

"I know you will. You're a serious young man after all."

An awkward silence ensued. Raphaël sensed there was more to this improvised reunion. Hulrun appeared to grow impatient. And Elev was… Searching his words.

"AS you can guess, I didn't call you just to exchange plesantries" Elev murmured, rummaging through his papers to avoid looking both men in the eyes. "No, I wanted to discuss your vocation as a priest."

A slight twitch on Raphaël's lips was the only sign of the anguish that grew inside him.

"You think I'm not suited to be a priest."

"I think you'd be more suited for other things." Elev answered swiftly with a sigh, lifting any possible ambiguity. He knew damn well Raphaël was not going to take that well.

The tiefling could feel his tail wrapping slightly around one of the chair legs and his claws digging just a bit too deep in his palm. Part of him hoped that his mentor would brush of his concern. That he would just wave with a chuckle, telling him it was just a mandatory meeting for every priest-in-training. That everything was fine. That he was doing a good job.

Raphaël couldn't say a world, every inches of him occupied at keeping him decently calm when he wanted to scream back at him so badly. The anger, the disappointment, the overflow of emotion he struggled to contain was probably noticed by Hulrun who decided to intervene, cutting Elev short in his speech.

"Unlike Beffroy, I don't know you personnally, boy. But if what he told me about you is right, then you definitely have nothing to do in priesthood" As hoarse as Hurlun's voice was, it remained very calm. Even quiet. The man was just stating fact. He wasn't there to start a confrontation… And he wasn't there to sugarcoat things either.

As Raphaël's was struggling to tame the inferno that was consuming his mind, Elev came to moderate his colleague's words.

"You would be a decent priest, Raphaël. But we think you'd be an excellent Inquisitor."

"I am not joining the Inquisition."

It was easy to understand Raphaël's turmoil only by looking at his eyes. They were almost glowing with rage. He was disappointed in himself, but above everything else, he was angry. At him, at them, at the world, at the Gods and everything in between. Was it too much? Probably. But he'd never been good at deal with his own emotions, especially the unpleasant ones.

"We won't force you. We just want you to think about it, maybe just-"

"Maybe just what?" Raphaël's voice was starting to crack, betraying his feelings. "What am I doing wrong? As far as I am aware, I've been studious, I've always taken into account every piece of advice I could get from you or anyone. I know I am a good fighter, a good spellcaster. I can recite Sarenrae's tennets by heart, I-"

"And how are your people skills?" Hulrun interjects, frowning. He leans a little closer to Raphael's face, clearly unimpressed by the tiefling's growing aggressiveness. "A priest is expected to officiate Mass, to guide people to their God, to show them the way, to help them during their most difficult moments, and to demonstrate compassion and kindness. Tell me, Raphael, how will your sword-fighting skills help in such situations? Do you intend to intimidate your followers into obeying her tenets? Are you devoted to Sarenrae or Asmodeus?"

Hulrun's words felt like a stab not just in his heart, but in his soul. Oh how he wanted to scream at him, to punch him in the face for these words. It was definitely ironic coming from Shappok, but deep down, Raphaël knew the prelate was right: He was downright terrible at anything that involved working with the community. For all his strentghs and qualities, he lacked all the social skills that would make a good priest. He could be the most devoted sarenite of all Mendev, He could pray days and nights til his knees were bleeding and bruised, it wouldn't change his uneasiness among people. His difficulties to mingle with others. His distant, cold behavior. His naturally intimidating presence.

His rampant anger issues.

His personnal Hellfire became a bit too much to control, and he slammed his fist on the desk, standing up. His tail angrily whipped the air behind him, and the snarl he struggled to contain revealed his sharp teeth.

"You don't know me."

And just like that, the tiefling left the office in a fury, slamming the door with violence.

Shaken -albeit not surprised- by his student's behaviour, Elev didn't know what to say to Hulrun.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it would escalate this quickly."

"I understand that this isn't an isolated event."

Elev's silence was enough of an answer. Hulrun frowned, pondering his thoughts for a moment. "You know we would have avoided this all if you would have been honest with me right at the beginning."

"What do you mean?"

"You never told me he was a tiefling."

Elev sighed. "I never said he wasn't one."

Hulrun stayed silent, narrowing his eyes slightly before letting out a long, heartfelt sigh.

"I would have never even consdiered accepting one of them in our ranks a few years ago."

"But time has changed."

"And the situation of this country didn't. We're still dealing with demons raiding our towns and villages, cultists hiding in plain sight, and good men and women being corrupted by the evergrowing power of the Abyss. Accepting a tiefling in our rank would just be begging for a disaster to happen."

"Then you'll be relief to learn that Raphaël isn't a product of the Worldwound. He's a Hellspawn."

"Is this supposed to make this any better? Besides, why are you defending him so much? Wasn't his literal outburst of rage enough to prove he's not fit to be a priest, let alone an inquisitor? Why do you insist on defending him so much, Elev?"

For the first time since this whole confrontation, Elev raised his voice slightly. It was somehow still lower than Hulrun's regular tone, but the difference was enough to draw a puzzled reaction from the prelate.

"Because I know him well, Hulrun. I've seen him grow up. From the little kid that swore he'd kill all the demons himself to the young man he is today. Hells, I was the one to find him first, abandonned on the stairs of our orphanage!"

Hulrun sighed. Elev was getting emotionnal, and he knew he wasn't going to change his old friend's opinion. Still, part of him… Trusted Elev. He was a man of reason despite it all.

Before the priest could narrate more or less accurately his memories, Hulrun cut him short in his rambles.

"Fine. I'll go talk to him." He grunted "I've tamed worse, anyway"

"You'll find him on the highest balcony. He always go there when… Ah- When these kind of things happen." He said, before smiling slightly at Shappok

"Good luck."

-

The next day, Raphaël would abandon his priesthood's career and enroll himself in the Inquisition.

[lukedanger]

Owlcatober - Day 19 - Duty

Prelate Hulrun misses the meaning of certain signs in this @owlcatober while focusing on duty to get through them.

[Ao3 Link]

====

When all else failed, a man at arms could trust in his duty as a reason to go on.

That was what Hulrun Shappok used as his bedrock over the long decades. It was his duty to the Mendevian people, to Golarion as a whole, to stand firm against the horrors of chaos. 

The light of his torch flickered as he made his way through the night. Light always flickered when he needed it for himself. He could remember a time when it had not, back when he was young. Before the brutality of his first crusade - the third of such campaigns. Somehow, that was when he noticed the lights flickering more and more.

Nonetheless, his misgivings were irrelevant as he assessed the streets of Kenabres. They were blessedly quiet tonight. While he was too highly ranked to be wasted on patrols, he could still contribute to that duty as he moved between responsibilities. 

The market square was still in terrible shape, but the bodies had at least been cleaned and fencing had been set up to prevent fools from falling in. A shame that he did not have time to browse them as he once had, but then again with silver coins being heavier and more tarnished in his hands as the years passed on, perhaps it was for the best he had others to do that while he focused on his duties.

“At ease,” he said as a pair of guards - new recruits in the city watch - snapped firm as he walked through the former market.

“Nothing to report, Prelate,” one of them said, the torch post behind her flickering.

He nodded back, continuing past. Up the hill to the temple that had been opposite of holy Iomedae’s. A temple of chaos and lacking responsibility that had so nearly cost them the whole city, cost all Mendev if the Wardstone had indeed caused a reaction in others.

Hulrun had been true to his word and let Ramien and his brats leave unmolested, much as he regretted allowing his duty to go unfinished. He even deigned to respect the temple without a priest. He had instructed it to be turned into an infirmary, one that thankfully could soon be closed down as the wounded were healed.

“Prelate,” said one of the guards at the front - a halfling inquisitor-in-training. “I’m afraid that Sir Jacob is not present - he went to investigate the graveyard.”

Unsurprising - vermleks had infested the city and purging the remnants was time-consuming. “Thank you, squire. Maintain your vigil.”

Hulrun strode past, towards the graves, warding himself against evil creatures with a short prayer to the Inheritor. He listened keenly, for that might be his first warning. And he heard what he was looking for - a sword drawn. Rushing towards the sound, he found Jacob in conflict with a zombie. Jacob’s sword found its mark, but as the creature collapsed another erupted from it - as much worm as man.

“Back, foul demon!” Hulrun snarled as he dropped his torch and charged in, drawing his longsword and bringing it down with both hands for an overhead strike. The vermlek, distracted by the other inquisitor, was unable to dodge in time and was cut through by the cold iron.

Hulrun’s blade did not go all the way through, though, becoming stuck partway through. Unusually stuck as he almost stumbled down as the monster fell. Grimacing, he did not let this setback get in the way of duty: with another tug, he managed to free his blade from material that should have yielded against it.

“Thank you, Prelate,” Jacob said as he caught his breath. He was as old as Hulrun, but the years had not been kind to him - no doubt a result of having been badly wounded several times when he was younger, and not having had as swift access to healers as Hulrun had. “I believe we tracked the source of the lingering undead.”

“Perhaps,” Hulrun admitted as he looked over his sword. Was it just him, or was the quality of his swords dropping? This one had not broken in the ferocity of battle, but he had more than a few that had broken in the last stroke of an engagement. He put it aside - he simply wore them out in his duty. “Yet we must remain vigilant. Who knows what foolishness the Desnans allowed into their hallowed ground?”

Jacob nodded, and both called upon holy light as their torches had fallen dark in the fight. Jacob’s shone brightly, while Hulrun’s flickered occasionally. Annoying, but he could compensate with constant vigilance.

That was what his duty as an inquisitor demanded. No matter how many of his brothers and sisters in faith detested him (which seemed to be more and more every year), how heavy his blade became as he carried out the sentences he passed, no matter how much the light flickered, no matter what inconveniences came his way, he had his duty. To Kenabres. To Mendev. To Golarion. To Iomedae.

He would do his duty, no matter the cost. The myriad dangers of the Abyss and its lackwit lackeys were too great for anything less. Perhaps one day, the things he did would not longer be necessary. Until then, he would do them.

[teddybaeran]

Invitation to Daeran's House

Mix is feeling like absolute SHIT for asking to go to his house. The thing is, he only gets the dialog option because he told Liotr he would help him investigate Daeran. But he doesn't intend to help at all. His goal is to learn, himself, while working to make Daeran look innocent. But what if Daeran is or appears guilty? What if Liotr either is wrong about something, or is right but wants to punish him when punishment isn't needed? Liotr does seem smarter than Hulrun but Mix still doesn't trust blind lawfulness for the sake of lawfulness. Afterall, the people who killed his family make laws.

He's very concerned and will keep an eye on both of them. Also, hopefully he can come clean to Daeran about what he did, eventually.

Bonus excerpts below and Mix's opinions from his original conversation with Liotr.

Mix hears Liotr support Hulrun. Whether or not he believes this, he supports him publicly, which makes him not trustworthy in terms of how he behaves and his ability to think for himself. It also means he might denounce Daeran publicly even if he knows he isn't a bad person.

Well, at least this is true. He respects it. However, what he really wants is a promise to react with empathy and not just the strong arm of the law, if something is found.

[nnibarrel]

Kenabres puppet theater

Remember @murthingsblog's commander Eloa from my recent reblogs? I put her cameo here cause she fits well) According to her biography, she is the daughter of a priestess from the temple of Desna, but, at the same time, even there she was such a “naughty child,” so she's a bit sharp-tongued towards everyone 😈

[elavoria]

My two very different Sarenites and their various love interests~

Queen Mircella [half-elf celestial sorcerer with one level of cleric to properly dedicate her to Sarenrae] and her Princes Consort Kesten and Tristian and paramour Jubilost; and Knight Commander Isanna [archon-blooded aasimar inquisitor angel] and her partners Hulrun and Regill.

[rivilu]

I love this game SO MUCH

[thedragonagelesbian]

At least kyr has seelah & irabeth as. Comparatively normal & decent caring lawful good characters to look up to & model himself after

[rlainarin]

damn it I have to fight with somewhere I fucked up in gameplay and retconned in ficland for Kam's timeline :(

[dujour13]

💔 and 🛑 please!

💔: any hated npcs?

Prelate Hulrun. Siavash didn’t kill him because it’s not in his nature to summarily execute people, but the Prelate really had it coming as far as I’m concerned. There is a special place in my personal hell for witch hunters/inquisitors. He turns fear and misunderstanding into suspicion and hate and ultimately to violence, all in the name of protecting his elect “in-group” from anyone not like them… I don’t have to spell out the real-world parallels.

🛑: least favourite quest, or a quest you refuse to complete?

I actually liked Blackwater. (Put it down to playing on Casual I guess.) The only gameplay I really hated was the domino puzzles.

Seelah’s personal quest made no sense to me. First of all I didn’t like it that it was somebody else’s wedding, even though I know she’s an iconic so they “had” to make her single/non-romanceable (my other unrequited crush besides Woljif). And then maybe I’m stupid but I don’t get exactly what was going on with the jewelry – were the demons hiding in it, or just possessing people and using it to mask their presence? Why were the victims’ souls transferred to the jewelry anyway? I don’t know, I just didn’t think it did justice to Seelah and I didn’t get the point. That said, I did put it in my fic, so I guess I didn’t hate it that much.

[spyridonya]

Ok, how about 10. cantankerous for the one word writing prompts 👀

Because Kadira would wave a sword in an emergcy, Hulrun does not die but is no longer Prelate. If Hulrun is so deeply respected because of his ability to fight demons, he'd be more well suited returning to military service.

The appearance of General Hulrun made Kadira's insides curl into black ice as she fixed her gaze upon her unwelcome visitor as he entered the War Room. Only the gods knew what she looked like right now, she had been going over files and directives with the Paralictor for several hours now. Knowing herself, the stress made her look like the bedraggled little girl running around with a shimmering sword trapped within her that likely saved someone's life upon her second introduction to Hulrun.

Relax your forehead, let it soften, ease the shoulders - he smells fear. She reminded herself, lectured herself, and told herself that she’s fought worse. 

However, as she looked at the scowl embedded in the features, the scars deepening the furrows and rags, most creatures she fought did not answer to Queen Galfrey with the adoration and fervor of a paladin to their god.

Hulrun, to his credit, waited until Kadira lifted her head from her work entire before he strode across from the entrance to her side, standing adjacent to her and towering in his superiority he wore like armor. "I have reason to believe that despite the graces that you hold with her Majesty and the Inheritor, that you are aiding and abiding a trailer in your midst."

Dear Gods and Shelyn's patience, her relays to the front were going to be derailed with this nonsense? The irritation bubbled under her skin as she lifted her chin higher, still reminding herself to relax with her posture. She had known the very moment that the former Prelate had arrived with Galfrey that something would come up.

"Prelate-" Perhaps pacifying him would-

"General," The correction is sharp, not quite a bark, and the furrow of heavy silvering brows deepens the crease of his bold battle scars. 

You fought a man made entirely of locusts. Kadira reminded herself as she fixed her gaze on the old man and allowed silence to slip between them before she began, again. "Forgive me for asking, but yet another traitor? If I recall, Nurah Dendiwhar was vouched for by the Inquisition, which was surely a mistake. I can understand during the chaos of Kenabras' siege that others might have also slipped past the organizations usually impeccable standards."

The words are not hers, and yet they are. The sharp edge that underlays the civility of her words to make them impatient, cutting, perhaps even cruel. The hypocrisy of it all had struck her on the nose, despite it always being there, and the man going back to his witch-hunting ways the moment he stepped into her city despite the honors granted to him was unpardonable.

Hulrun stares at her like the scruffy tiefling that she was, and not the beloved of angels, almost attempting to remind of her true place. But his temper is too quick and his demeanor too curmudgeon for it to simmer properly and implant doubt in Kadira's mind when he speaks, "You would very well know, you were the one to abide he and his cultists’ escape into the ruins of Kenabras."

Oh, Callrista's Balls.

"The worship of Desna has been documented well before the Age of Darkness and her church has existed in various forums for all but perpetuity." An irony, considering the goddess and her fleeting nature, "They are by no means a cult and within my investigation of the Wardstones, by personally speaking to the angels that agreed to be bound there, Ramien and his keep did nothing to corrupt the wardstone."

"Dear girl-" He began.

"Knight Commander."

"Knight Commander, you were not there when the Red Morning Massacre happened-"

No. But my grandmother had to scramble with her family into horse stalls and their manure out of sheer abject horror, because she saw the results of what happens when demons don't kill. She's dust and spirit now, old man.

"-when Minagho spilled blood of innocent on the Wardstone-"

"Well, obviously the Wardstone wasn't much helpful if Minagho was able to breach into Kenabras." She cut in quickly, a part of her ashamed for correcting an elder, another part reminding herself she was an elder. "I don't see how the blood could have made things worse, she was already inside."

The older man blinked hard, those white whiskers quivering with indignation and mild shock. How often did he tell this story to the Inquisitors? Was this the first time someone pointed out the inconsistency of that story to him?

"He is still guilty of breaking and entering, Knight Commander." His tone is sharp as a knife, and Kadira felt pressure behind her temples. "As such-"

"And as such, he was made Prelate when you were made a General, seeing he is the highest ranking Priest that managed to live through the siege. If you have disagreements with his placement, Queen Galfrey is in Drezen, as you well know. I am not to give up a guest, regardless if Ramien was Prelate or not. Hospitality is an ancient rite, far older than Desna or Iomeade, and I will not break it because you disagree with your Queen."

There was a twitch in his eyebrow. "I see." He didn’t see, Kadira knew that he couldn’, but Kadira also knew he was loyal to Galfrey in all things. "I will... I will speak to her majesty and return to you when time permits."

The general turned on his heel, his boots clacked sharply on the floor of the headquarters, his gaze flashing black at Regill who watched silently the entire time, and strode out of the War Room with the red of his cloak trailing after him.

At the sound of the door shutting behind him, Kadira felt her body completely relax as a sigh left her, as if strings were cut on a puppet. Her forehead hit the table and her vision was veiled by her hair for a moment.

"May I inquire with you, Commander?" The heavier tones of Regill's voice was almost like a blessing as she turned her head against the table, her eyes falling upon the Paralictor who sat not quite at her current level.

"Yes," No, not really. But she was remarkably proud that Regill hadn't slide in like a knife into the brief conversation. He tended to do so in more informal occasions, but within the war room he waited before committing verbal vivisection of someone in Galfrey's court. 

(Both he and Daeran shared that lovely hobby, but never managed to bond over it.)

"Does Hulrun truly expect you to believe he witnessed an event that occurred when I was not quite middle aged?" The gnome retains his hawklike sharpness, the disdain set more by brows and tone than truly changing his expression. "An event Queen Galfrey was not yet quite a woman for?"

Kadira shrugged, though she supposed with her almost prone position of her cheek against the table made it hard to see. Rather, she lifted her hands and mimicked the gesture. "My grandmother was still a girl and hadn't met my grandfather. It was a threat she'd give me and my cousins if we didn't behave properly. ‘If you don’t stop climbing those walls, Kadira Staradottir, Minagho is going to splash your innards on the statute of Iomedae!’" She paused for a moment to think, “I believe the former Prelate is only a few years younger than me, chronologically speaking. I'm surprised you're not questioning his sanity."

"I'm questioning his efficiency in his methods of discipline,." Regill dryly answered, turning back to his paperwork.

Somehow, Kadira thinks, that's even worse.

[amatres]

hm. giving more thought to layla in relation to killing others bc the answer i gave off the cuff didn't seem exactly right. and it's very. grey, i suppose?

in general she doesn't go out of her way to kill people, sticking often to giving people second chances, even if the person doesn't seem repentant. but she also isn't going to spill tears for every person she kills (sorry ember, she's not as devoted to the idea as you, though she admires your dedication to it).

however there are times even she feels it's just not possible. with some she feels no remorse, such as with hulrun who she found vile in his zealotry, but in other cases it is. not smthing she takes any pleasure in doing, and is unable to let go of her sympathy for the person as she does it (wenduag....) to the point it haunts her long after it happened.

i suppose it's interesting in the two instances i can think off as the biggest examples of that scenario, with staunton and wenduag, she still tried to afford them some dignity or peace of mind in the end, like with allowing staunton to have a proper burial or with telling wenduag she was afraid of her potential in wenduag's last moments

camellia's death was an outlier, and is more an example in the position on having to keep making the calls on who lived or died affecting her negatively to the point she goes against what she would normally do in that situation, and then it haunts her because what if's will plague her afterwards.

does any of this make sense. no. i am tired and hungry

[sadruru]

I'm going to do something mind-blowing this weekend. It's going to be a little bit of sketching for the week. But unusual in content.

[lukedanger]

During my second playthrough of WotR, I found something that adds a particularly fascinating bit of context to a romance with Arueshalae and how that looks to anyone outside of your inner circle. One that I think further explains both Hulrun's reaction to it and why Galfrey considers Arueshalae a strike against the KC at the end of Act III.

What I found was the in-game book "Unsung Feats behind the Crusades", which can be found in the Ivory Labyrinth. The text is shown below in a screenshot and transcribed into the alt-text if the image is not loading.*

For further context, the Third Mendevian Crusade is the one that Hulrun spearheaded and is widely considered to be a complete failure because it devolved into witch hunts and infighting. While Hulrun is not explicitly mentioned here, this is entirely in line with his behavior. Furthermore, the brave maiden reads remarkably like the Knight-Commander (particularly an Angel or Azata path one): an inspiring leader from seemingly nowhere who likely would have been a major figure in if not the leader of the nascent Third Crusade... tempted into folly and sin, much like a Demon or Lich path commander that doesn't go Legend or Gold Dragon.

Heck, this sounds eerily familiar to what happens in the cRPG version of Staunton Vhane, especially him turning to the demons and Minagho only to be felled when you take Drezen back from the demons. And now you are Knight-Commander, de facto Warden of Drezen, and have the Sword of Valor which has transformed in your hands... then you accept Arueshalae into your personal lance or even start romancing her?

How do you imagine that must look to those outside of your inner circle, particularly those who have lived through the above two incidents? Hulrun may well have lit the aforementioned brave maiden's pyre, and Galfrey would have been left to sort out the fallout of that incident on top of Staunton Vhane's entire saga.

Unlike us, they have not travelled with and gotten to know Arueshale or witnessed how she resonated with the Song of Elysium or been saved by Desna's aegis. They have been busy governing Kenabres and Mendev as a whole, and only hear about this through rumors or a game of telephone.

All things considered, both of them are remarkably calm about it when they come to Drezen and see that the rumors about a succubus were accurate.

*For the sake of due diligence, we should also assess the source, particularly as this is the only time the incident is mentioned to the best of my knowledge. The in-game book is explicitly a pep piece written for Baphomet's neophytes to read and be inspired by, so it is most certainly embellished. However, while details may have been exaggerated or embellished other known quantities such as Hulrun's witch hunts and the Third Crusade being infamous for infighting like this leads me to conclude that the basic facts are most likely true. Especially as lying to neophytes at this stage is a good way to set yourself up for feelings of betrayal later.

[teddybaeran]

Hulrun is a lost cause

As explained in Mix's intro post, he kills Hulrun because he sees him as a danger due to his inability to act correctly when not being overseen.

HERE. HERE WE SEE LIOTR ALREADY TRIED. This guy truly thinks he had Hulrun handled. And yet? Hulrun was out here killing people he shouldn't. He doesn't learn. If you're not ON HIM nothing you do actually sticks or lasts. So, yea, Mix is so much more vindicated in killing him after hearing this. And disappointed in Liotr thinking this was enough.

Bonus rewind to Mix killing him....

This scene, looking into Daeran's eyes, especially after seeing how much Hulrun absolutely refuses to think for himself, well, it makes Mix need to kill the guy. Sorry. He is a dramatic boy, and anybody causing this reaction in Daeran needs to die - he trusts Daeran's judgement too much not to pay attention.

Bonus BONUS rewind to what happens if you don't kill him. Originally this is what Mix did before Daeran was ever in his party, but I decided to undo it and when I came back to it, Daeran was in the party, and his reaction changed how Mix handled the situation.

"You don't know? I just told you. Just like last time. You thick headed dunce."

bonus bonus bonus from when Mix said he wouldn't kill Ramien. Fucking hells, no, do not hunt him down, hhhh. And what the fuck man. Hulrun is not a good man. An obedient one, sure, but obedience as the only reason to trust somebody is worthless in someone who is rotten at their core.

The fact that revealing the light is the only thing that dude will listen to. And he demands to know how Mix got it? Bud. Know your fucking place.

And to when Ember "first" meets with him, and Mix is so fucking ready to throw hands already. This guy just kept going and going and going until Mix finally snapped and threw him down the hole.

Ember, sweetie, no.

[nnibarrel]

Slaying the Dreamer

~Dumb kid, living a dream.

I take out a napkin and wipe away my tears(

I've found... Just heartbreaking things in the game's dialog file. If Ramien will be dead. Crying Ilkes... Or cursing Ramien, if commander first will be taking out his apprentices. Horrible, horrible. Of course I've should (literally) drawn conclusion to this devastating conflict. In an au, yeah. Metaphors of the animals emphasize the idea better.

Couple closeups under the cut.