#i just wanted to edit something colorful and i miss arcane so much

[tashdemetriou]

JINX | ARCANE

[bloodiedmedic]

Basheerah “Bashy” Delaunay.

(Quick Bio for a very old OC of mine that I want to try to bring back. Need to edit my blog to include her, but here's a quick bio post)

A woman standing at roughly 5 feet and seven inches with warm green eyes, and red hair the color of which might remind a person of fall and autumn who at first glance would seem to be no one special. A first glance however missed much. The welcoming smile that might speak of a shop keeper, or a pole dancer. A sway to her hips, and a gracefulness that perhaps whispered of a confidence born from time spent in a temple of some sort discovering exactly who she was or maybe it was that of a courtesan who had spend her fair share of years enticing clients to her side. An easy flirtatious nature that welcomed all comers, and what felt like an utter refusal to judge anyone so long as they did not harm her or those she cared about made her quite easy to speak to. She could be twenty five, she could be thirty five, only she knew and she was not telling. The two things that were certain about Basheerah was that she was very friendly, and that she was very good with plants so good in fact it was how she made her living by being an herbalist. The rumors of her being a witch, or of a body found in an alleyway with mushrooms growing from it or a vine creeping out of it’s mouth of course had to be just that. Rumors.

I love AU’s so if you don’t see a verse set up just toss an ask at me, or message me and I will absolutely be willing to set something up. I can make Bashy fit into basically anything.

A lot of my RP is set in Arcane/League of Legends so here’s a Zaun Verse

(cut for length)

ZaunBashy : Basheerah is a relatively recent arrival who has learned just enough about Zaun to figure out how to open up a street stall for various things she makes out of plants, and plant like things. Mushrooms, moss, whatever she can scavenge. She made enough start up money for the street stall by pole dancing, and a bit of sex work. Is quite friendly to anyone that lets her be, but there's been a couple odd instances around her. Rumors of people suddenly collapsing, and mushrooms or something else emerging from their mouth or nose. Those rumors are accompanied by a hint that she might be some kind of witch, but the green eyed woman simply smiles and laughs it off. She's just an herbalist, and an alchemist after all. She makes teas, elixirs, tonics, herbal remedies, soaps, lotions and other similar things.

Because I have some mutuals set in Gotham/DC

GothamBashy: Runs a small shop for things she makes out of plants, and similar things. Lives above the shop in a small apartment. Has enough plants that people sometimes joke she must be Poison Ivy’s cousin (she’s not related, and always tries to ensure anyone making that joke understands that), and she is always happy to take in a new one or give someone advice on how to treat their own plants better. As always is an herbalist, and makes all of her own things. There’s rumors here, and there that she’s a witch or a meta or something else. Those rumors she laughs off. Basheerah always has some tea ready for anyone that needs a fresh cup, and is willing to listen to most anyone talk about anything so long as you respect it when she has to step aside for a minute to take care of a customer or whatever all else.

If you’ve made it this far thank you, and congrats because you’ve earned some extra lore about Basheerah’s background. As a side note, no, your muse does not know any of this unless we’ve discussed it before hand. Spoilers beyond for things that may, or may not ever come out in actual RP.

Basheerah “Bashy” Delaunay is in fact far older than she appears. Rather than being in her twenties, or thirties she is in fact a few hundred years old or more. However she has a problem in that she only remembers bits and pieces of most of that time consciously, and a bit more in her dreams. Basheerah has had a very strange life in which she started out as a normal human woman who become involved in sex work, and than after ending up in a place filled with magical beings as well as monsters and beasts and other people eventually became a demigoddess. She would still very happily be in that world, and still be a demigoddess if it wasn’t for the fact that like so many other things one day that world came to an end. It was fractured apart into countless pieces with any survivors ending up across a hundred different new worlds, and dimensions. Because of that Basheerah has gone from human, to demigoddess, and back to mostly human except one seemingly who doesn’t age and is a wanderer. Her wandering can seem less dramatic than one might think as she prefers to settle down in any new place for a few years before leaving however at heart she is a woman forced to be a nomad whose soul now misses a home that does not and never will exist again and she knows for a fact it does not. Once she leaves a place she does not return, and unless someone else has a way to travel she does not get to reunite with people she has left behind.

The destruction of the world she came from has also fractured her soul into different pieces because of how closely connected to it she was, and as a result a lot of what she lived through is lost to her. If you were to ask her if she’d ever been a demigoddess she would probably just roll her eyes and laugh it off because of course not that’s impossible. However deep down inside there’s a sharp splinter of her soul looking for it’s matching portions that remembers. It remembers her power, and it still holds enough of that power within it to keep her alive and wandering and on some level searching for those other fragments. That splinter also has held onto a portion of her link to nature, and a strange ability many would call magical that allows her to work with plants and control or use them.

She seems happy and mostly she is however at her core she is still someone that once had more power than most humans could ever dream of, and a closer more intimate link with nature than most could possible understand. For as friendly, cheerful, flirtatious, and kind as she seems Basheerah is very well aware of a simple fact. Nature provides for everyone yes, and it continues forward with life and weather and wonders nearly impossible to contemplate. However nature will also destroy whole civilizations, or even species without blinking an eye.

A random humans life is no more important than that of some large beautiful jungle cat or exotic flower out in the middle of the rain forest. However it is also no less important either.

[spectrowhirl]

Hi!! Im a huge fan of your work, i just got the second edition and its really lit a fire under my butt to learn more behind the symbology of the original rider-waite in order to compare with other decks (especially yours!). I have two questions if youre willing to answer, but its okay if not:

First: What is your biggest inspiration for your art? The way you blend bright colours and swirling imagry is such a huge inspiration for me, im always searching for artist of the like- but the way you merge it with spirituality is especially motivating for my own work. What makes you do what you do?

Second: for an aspiring rainbow wizard who always wants to learn more, is there any directions you'd be willing to point me and others to? Any people, places or sources that you woukd find benefitial for others looking for a colourful path?

Thank you for your time and i hope you habe a good day!!

Oh wow, I missed this message. Thank you so much! That's incredibly kind of you and I'm extremely flattered and honored. I'm glad you like the deck! I'll try to answer as best I can.

First Q: My inspiration weirdly goes way back to this tiny article I remember seeing in grade school about some young painter who said in the interview "I just love colors!" And as a kid who drew a lot (mostly superheroes) I thought "I want to be the type of person who loves colors." And since then, I've tried to use crazy amounts of colors in my art. That said, my paintings started out kind of monochromatic, but I realized over time that I could push the limits of how much color could fit in one painting, so now I just use as much as humanly possible haha. My other inspiration has always been a sort of mysticism or supernatural sense about the world. I have a lot of existential cosmic awe (or some might call it cosmic dread) about the universe, so I like to imagine these infinitely complex systems that operate the cosmos and interpret that into art in some way. Like "this painting represents the creation of life" or "this imagines some arcane mystical tablet of gods never discovered," or something like that. So it's a mixture of real representations of nature and some fiction. But it's all just sort of vague concepts in my head hahaha. I don't expect people to "get" that from my art just by looking at it. The tarot cards are more inspired by the Rider-Waite imagery as you probably guessed. I tried to mix the most important symbols from the RW decks into my psychedelic style. Like the High Priestess has pomegranates and the black and white columns from the original RW card, as an example.

Second Q: Not sure where I'd send someone except to other great colorful artists like Hannah Bunzey, Callie Fink, or on Instagram: lueli.blue, roving.stars, or shea11024.

I hope that helps! Thank you again so much for your support. It means everything to me.

[today-only-happens-once]

Pitch Black

Title: Pitch Black

Word Count: 2398

Summary:  “Come on, Virge,” Roman grits out. “I don’t know what he did to you, but you can fight this. You can.” Generic fantasy!AU. Platonic DLAMP, platonic Prinxiety. Mind-controlled!Virgil. 

Warnings: mind control via magic, angst (happy ending), violence and blood, serious (but non-permanent) injury to a main character, Logan and Janus have and use magic, mention of killing, Logan lowkey kills a bad guy, elements of self-sacrifice. Mention of cursing but no actual curse words are written. Please let me know if I should tag anything else. 

A/N: You know that trope of “Character A has been mind-controlled and must fight their loved ones who refuse to hurt them while trying to break them out of it?”. This is that trope. Because I love that trope. Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. 

...

“Wh-what did you do to him?” Roman demands, unable to take his horror-stricken eyes from Virgil. Virgil cocks his head like an unnatural twitch, his pitch-black eyes inhuman and distinctly not Virgil.

The throne room around them had taken them days to reach. The large, circular room was dotted with marble pillars around the outer edge. Burgundy, silver, and black banners hang on the walls. Torches set in sconces offer a dim flickering light, helped slightly by the larger fire pits that sit on either side of the large onyx throne a few yards in front of them. 

In front of the throne, the sorcerer stands in black and silver robes. His long, dark hair is slicked back and falls around him like a hood. Virgil stands beside him, like they’d both been waiting for them to push through the doors. So much for taking the sorcerer by surprise. 

The sorcerer sneers, but it’s Virgil’s mouth that opens to respond. “I would worry more about what I’m about to do to you, Princey.”

Roman’s stomach twists painfully at Virgil’s voice because it’s not him but it sounds painfully familiar. Roman flexes his grip on the sword in his hand, casting a glance to Janus to his left and Logan to his right. Behind him, he hears Patton release a disbelieving breath.

“Janus,” Roman says under his breath, “Can you do anything?”

“I can try,” Janus growls, the edge in his voice razor sharp. His form ripples before it vanishes and Roman hears the quiet scuff of his feet against the marble floor beneath them moving away from the group.

“The sorcerer is mine,” Logan says darkly. “Just keep Virgil busy.” He’s gone, skirting around the cylindrical room away from Roman in the opposite direction that Janus had moved.

“Virgil,” Roman tries, unable to hide the desperation in his tone. “Please, listen—”

Virgil charges, the dagger in his hand glinting in the firelight from the torches.

Roman braces himself for impact, afraid that if he were to side-step, he’d manage to get Patton. Virgil—the real Virgil—would never forgive himself if he hurt Patton.

Roman catches the edge of Virgil’s dagger on his sword and uses the clash to shove him back. “Virgil, stop. This isn’t you.”

Roman risks a glance behind Virgil’s shoulder just in time to see Logan duck around a pillar and a blue glyph flicker in his hand. Logan was working some kind of magic, but Roman wasn’t close enough to tell what type. It’s all he can tell before the glint of steel grabs his attention and he barely manages to duck in time for Virgil’s knife to whistle past his ear and clatter against the stone behind him.

“Virgil!” Patton calls from somewhere to Roman’s left. “Snap out of it!”

Another flash of something and Roman instinctively flicks his sword. A throwing star cracks against the marble pillar to his right. Virgil rushes forward, hands empty. Roman doesn’t think about it. He drops the sword, grabbing for Virgil’s arms instead.

“Janus!” he shouts to the open. “Now would be great!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” the sorcerer tuts, before a streak of red light slams into the wall somewhere in the direction Janus had run. Roman hears a shouted, alarmed curse that was unmistakably Janus’s voice.

In his face, Virgil flashes teeth in a snarl. “That all you got, Roman?” he growls. His grip against Roman’s arms is cold—frigid—and he focuses on everything he can except Virgil’s black eyes. They remind him of the worst, darkest shadows. The ones that held nightmares and in which monsters lurked.

“Come on, Virge,” Roman grits out. “I don’t know what he did to you, but you can fight this. You can.”

Patton appears behind Virgil, grabbing for his arms as well to help pull him off Roman. “Kiddo,” Patton says, his voice strained and Roman doesn’t think it’s only from the physical effort, “Please. We need ya back.”

If Roman had blinked, he knows he would have missed it. But he swears there’s a flicker of clarity in Virgil’s eyes. A flash of white and brown, before the black swirls over again. 

“Yes!” Roman cries out. “Yes, Virgil, that was it. Keep fighting.”

A growl that doesn’t sound fully human wrenches from Virgil’s lungs and he shoves Roman back. Roman feels the air rush out of him as he collides with a pillar beside him. Virgil jerks out of Patton’s grip, stumbling to one knee. 

In the distance, Roman sees a flash of blue followed by a streak of red. Logan’s sharp, pained cry echoes against the walls. Roman is still blinking the stars from his vision, but he thinks there’s a moment where Virgil freezes at the sound. 

The prince can feel his heartbeat in his throat. “Virgil, you don’t want to hurt us. I know you don’t.”

Metal screeches against stone as Virgil snatches up the discarded throwing star to his left and hurls it at Roman. The prince barely has time to roll out of the way before it cracks against the pillar. Roman scrambles to his feet. Across the throne room, Roman sees flashes of red and blue as Logan and the sorcerer hurl spells at each other. A bright flash of yellow on the other side tells Roman that Janus is trying from his own assortment of spells as well. 

Virgil growls low in his throat and dives for his dagger. Roman’s eyes sweep frantically for his sword, and sees it discarded several feet away. He can’t get to it. 

Roman holds up his hands, sinking his weight and preparing to dodge. “Virgil--”

Virgil moves to lunge, but Patton is just a fraction faster and rushes to tackle him to the floor. Virgil stumbles but doesn’t fall, baring teeth in a furious snarl and slashing with his dagger over his shoulder. 

Roman’s eyes widen in horror, feeling like he’s watching in slow-motion. The dagger sinks into Patton’s shoulder and tears. With a strangled, pained cry, Patton releases his hold on Virgil and staggers back a step, pressing his hand to the wound. He trips, his back hitting the nearby pillar and sinking to the floor. 

“Patton!” Roman shouts, and he scrambles to get to his sword. He snatches it up in less than a second. Patton is already pale, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. 

The dagger in Virgil’s hands--stained dark with blood--clatters to the floor. Virgil presses his hands to his head, his face twisted tightly into a pained wince. He sways, then drops to one knee. Roman can see the way his whole body is trembling. 

“Roman,” he says, his voice strangled. Roman starts. That voice sounds like Virgil. Their Virgil. 

“Virgil--”

“Please,” he manages. “I--I can’t--” His voice breaks off, clutching his head harder. His fingers fist in his hair. 

Roman doesn’t understand what Virgil wants. 

And then Virgil’s eyes open (and Roman feels a wave of relief so intense he thinks he could cry at seeing his brown eyes rather than black) and settle on the sword in Roman’s hands. 

Roman’s blood turns to ice. “No.”

There’s a bright flash of red light and Virgil yelps, his eyes squeezing shut again and curling around himself. “Roman.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to,” Virgil snaps through clenched teeth. “I can’t--I can’t fight it. Please, Roman.”

The throne room is awash in flashes of red and blue, getting faster and brighter and more intense. The cracks and sizzles of ricocheting spells still does not drown out Patton’s distant, shallow breathing. Virgil looks up at him through his disheveled hair. 

Roman’s hands are trembling. 

“It’s okay,” Virgil presses, the desperation in his voice sinking like stone in Roman’s stomach. “It’s--” 

The black cloud in his eyes swirls over and Roman makes a noise in the back of his throat as he drops the sword (because he can’t, he just can’t) and lunges for him. The edges of Roman’s vision are blurring. He wrestles Virgil’s lean, athletic weight to the ground. He gets behind him, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s to anchor them against his sides. 

He holds on for dear life as Virgil thrashes. Come on, Logan, he pleas silently. 

“I’m not giving up on you, Virgil,” Roman says in his ear, grunting with effort when Virgil tries to knock his head against Roman’s. The prince barely dodges the blow. “So you’re not allowed to give up on us. Not today. Not ever.”

Roman’s eyes flash to Patton, still on the floor by the pillar and clutching the wound in his shoulder. The prince is certain he sees a flicker of someone else appearing beside him as the room flashes red, then blue, then red again. 

It’s Janus. Roman remembers that some of Janus’s magic deals in healing wounds, and Roman goes slightly weak with relief. 

It’s a mistake.

Virgil twists out of his grip and scrambles to his feet, snatching the discarded sword from the floor and pointing the edge of the blade towards Roman’s throat. Roman goes very still, looking up at Virgil towering above him. His eyes are completely black. His chest heaves with exertion. In the alternating flashes of arcanic color, Roman can see the sheen of sweat to his brow. 

“You made a mistake,” Not-Virgil growls. “Not killing him when he asked you to. You’re weak. Just like him.” 

Roman feels a burning fury ignite in his chest. He glowers. “Virgil isn’t weak. He’s fighting you, and he’s going to win. He’s our protector.” 

“Unfortunate for you,” he says darkly, and Roman doesn’t miss the way his grip flexes around the hilt of the sword. “Because then who is going to protect you all from him?” 

Logan suddenly shouts something arcanic--his voice high and desperate and echoing--and there’s a blinding flash of white light that fills the space. Roman shuts his eyes against the sudden onslaught, turning his face into his shoulder. 

When the light fades, the alternating flashes of red and blue have stopped. The only light in the throne room comes from the torches attached to the walls. Roman looks frantically over towards where Logan had been and sees him standing, barely. He’s leaning against the wall, but the sorcerer is an unmoving heap on the floor by the throne. Roman’s eyes flash over to Virgil, still standing above him. 

Virgil blinks rapidly, the black clearing from his vision again. His brow furrows in confusion. His gaze is distant. Roman, very slowly, pushes himself to his feet. 

“Virgil?”

Virgil’s gaze flickers up to him. He sways, his face rapidly draining of color. He looks down at his hand, still holding the sword, then back up at Roman. He drops the weapon, and the clatter of the steel against stone echoes loudly in the sudden, deafening silence that had followed Logan’s final spell. 

“Princey?” 

His voice doesn’t sound desperate and strained and choked anymore. Tired and confused and small, yes, but no longer like he was fighting for every word. And the voice is still unmistakably Virgil. There’s a sudden, hard lump in Roman’s throat. 

“There he is,” Roman manages with a weak smile. “Welcome back.”

Roman sees the exact moment Virgil regains clarity, because he watches the horror dawn in his dark brown eyes. Virgil goes perfectly still. He looks like he’s going to be sick. 

“Hey,” Roman says quickly, closing the distance between them to put his hands on Virgil’s shoulders. “Hey, it’s not your fault.”

“Patton--”

Janus is the one that speaks up this time, from a few yards past Virgil. “Will be fine,” he says. He’s still kneeling by Patton’s side, his hands glowing with a golden aura as they hover over Patton’s shoulder. “The bleeding has stopped. Wound is closed to avoid infection. A little rest and hydration, and Patton will be back to normal.”

“Easy peasy,” Patton chimes in lightly but weakly, but Roman sees the crease of concern between his brows as he looks at Virgil, who still hasn’t turned to face him. 

“I…” Virgil swallows hard. “I almost…”

“But you didn’t,” Roman tells him, softly and with conviction. “You didn’t, Virgil.”

“But I tried,” Virgil insists, his voice carrying a very faint tremor. His gaze flashes up to meet Roman’s. His eyes look haunted. He swears under his breath and averts his gaze. “I tried.”

“Falsehood,” Logan says as he crosses back to the group. He’s pale, Roman realizes. And he seems a bit unsteady on his feet, but he’s alive and standing and Roman counts it as a no small win that they all are in one piece. 

“Logan’s right,” Roman adds, with a nod of both acknowledgement and appreciation. “What you tried to do, Virgil, was fight it. That’s what matters. That is the only thing that matters.” 

Virgil shrugs out of Roman’s hands and takes a few steps away. Roman pretends he doesn’t notice the way his eyes were getting glossy. It also doesn’t escape his attention that Virgil still hasn’t looked at Patton. From the slightly distressed look in Patton’s eyes, he’s noticed the same thing.

“Virgil,” he begins, but Logan interrupts him gently.

“We should get out of here.” Logan’s eyes meet Roman’s steadily. “It won’t be long before backup arrives, and I don’t know how much I’ve got left in me. For that matter, none of us are really in fighting shape.” 

Janus says something quietly to Patton that Roman doesn’t catch. Patton nods once, and Janus helps him to his feet, ensuring he’s steady before letting go. Roman takes a breath, then nods his agreement. He snatches his sword off the ground. He sees Logan pick up Virgil’s dagger, wipes Patton’s blood off on the inside of his cloak, and then cross to Virgil. 

He hands it to him. Virgil shakes his head but Logan says something in a low voice and Virgil hesitates only a moment longer before taking it from him. 

Roman has the feeling that it will be a long time before Virgil is okay again. But as far as Roman was concerned, he would still trust Virgil with his life. This didn’t change any of that. And he’s pretty sure that Logan giving the dagger back to Virgil was him telling Virgil the same thing. 

Virgil makes them better. And Roman’s certain they’ll spend as long as necessary proving that to Virgil until Virgil begins to believe it again himself. 

...

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigiliantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34, @gaylotusthatexists, @analogical-mess, @dolphidragon, @flix-net, @narniasfinestavengingsociopath, @friedlieb-ferdinand-runge , @bibbidy-bobbidy-booyah, @procrastinations-my-middle-name, @theburntesttoast, @monroig, @secretlyawyvern, @puddinglec4t, @give-me-a-minute-to-think, @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear

[ampleappleamble]

Pillars of Eternity: Anthem Infinitum: Chapter 8: Cleaning House

Just in case you don’t/can’t go to AO3 for whatever reason but wanna read chapter 8, or if you missed it the first time around, or whatever. I also did a very small amount of clean-up editing since first publish.

Now to start on chapter 9! *looks at blank document labelled Chapter 9 Notes*

---

"Wael's eyes, man, slow down. It's midmorning yet!"

Axa got up on the tips of her toes and leaned over to pluck the bottle from the old man's surprisingly strong grip, her headache intensifying as she caught a whiff of his rancid breath. She had been mostly joking when she ordered Kana to bring out the wine for their guest, but once she'd seen the delight in the poor old salt's face, the sparkle in his eyes when presented with goblet and bottle-- well, how could she refuse?

She glared at the aumaua now, clutching her last bottle of pomegranate wine, barely a quarter full after the old man's assault. Kana winced apologetically at her, but the little woman only smiled wryly and shrugged. It was as much her own fault as it was his, and she knew it.

The old man laughed good-naturedly, revealing a mouth only half full of teeth, and toasted his hostess with his borrowed goblet. "Early it may be, m'lady," he rasped, a strange sailor's brogue coloring his Aedyran, "bu' this elt lad dosnae rest. An' Magran help us, nei'r dae th' thirst." The old man sloshed the wine in his cup as he spoke, slopping it over the lip and onto the dusty stone floor more than once, before smacking his lips and merrily sucking down what remained inside.

As she had predicted, the night had not gone easily for the newly minted Watcher of Caed Nua. What little sleep she'd managed to get had been plagued by nightmares about books and machines, promises and betrayals, adra and copper and blood. And when sleep had failed her, she'd squirmed in her bedroll, tossing and turning and sweating and groaning. And thinking-- lots of thinking.

But in spite of it all-- perhaps, in fact, because of her sleeplessness-- her awareness felt bizarrely heightened. It reminded her of her all-night research sessions in her old college life: standing there practically vibrating from murkbrew and nervous energy, feeling simultaneously like she was strong enough to lift a horse over her head and like she was about to collapse. Scrutinizing the drunken old salt, she squinted resolutely against her headache, determined not to let anything escape her notice.

Axa saw the gnarled fingers, knotted with age, and she watched the unsteady, drunken gesticulations that spilled her favorite wine onto the cobwebs and mouse shit that decorated her Great Hall. But she also saw that the hand itself was steady: not tremulous, but strong and sure. The half-lidded, drink-addled eyes took a while to fully focus, but once he managed to fix his gaze on hers, she could see a remarkably fierce little twinkle in his mischievous eyes.

"Engrim, you said your name is?"

"Pretty much everyone calls him Eld Engrim," Edér drawled, leaning against a stone pillar while fiddling with his pipe. "He's from around here somewhere, but he tends t' spend most of his time on the sea. Or in whichever tavern's nearest. Probably came in from Anslog's Compass lookin' for a little shore leave, ended up owin' someone a favor and havin' to hoof it all the way out here for 'em." Despite the content of his introduction, the farmer spoke with fondness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled warmly at the old man. "That sound about right, Eld Engrim?"

The old sailor cackled and nodded, clutching his empty goblet in front of himself with both hands like a talisman. "Aye, laddie, ye've got me fairly figured! Masons in yer Vale promised me a fine bottle o' spirits should I answer 'em this missive from oul' Caed Nua, abandoned all these long years. Although, ye did neglect t' address me Mistress, heathen that ye be, She whose spark 'n flame lit me way here!" He winked obnoxiously and wagged a crooked finger at the Eothasian, like a grandfather teasingly scolding his grandson.

Axa had not missed the telltale signs of a Magranite priest. The smell, in particular, of singed hair and arcane flame had tipped her off.

"You didn't think the priesthood of Ondra might suit you better?" Aloth's lip curled with disgust as he regarded the man, glaring at him over the edge of his grimoire. He had been broody all morning, Axa had noticed, and the elf seemed particularly irritated by the old lush.

"Not if he's a cannoneer," Kana suggested. "I can see where you might get Ondra-- the sea, drink and forgetfulness, those common themes-- but many who work with munitions, and especially ships, keep a Magranite priest on their payroll for their beneficial healing magic as well as for their blessings on and expertise with explosives." He grinned toothily at the elf, beaming with intellectual pride.

Aloth twitched, then spoke in a calm, low voice behind his gritted teeth. "If that's the case, why is he here running errands for stonemasons in Gilded Vale instead of mumbling over a double bronzer or something somewhere out on the sea?"

Axa turned her attention to her guest. "Good question, actually. Maybe you'd care to tell me a bit more about yourself while we make our way back to Gilded Vale, Engrim?"

The old man's eyes bugged out of his head, flicking back and forth between the orlan and his empty goblet. "Och, young miss, ye cannae mean t' be gettin' t' Gilded Vale now! 'Tis a day's sojourn, an' rovin' bands o' bandits roam o'er th' roads, Magran bash 'n burn 'em! An' 'ave only just arrived, me!" He looked around at her companions' faces, groping wildly for support, and found only pity and scorn for this man foolish enough to think to argue with her.

"He... does speak true, my lady." The Steward's voice rang out gently from the halls of the old keep. "No guard patrols have been dispatched along Caed Nua's surrounding roads since old Maerwald's decline into madness, and the paths surrounding the estate have been infested with brigands and monsters alike." As her voice faded, a soft little blanket of sadness settled over the gathered kith like a light dusting of snow.

Axa shuddered. "All the more reason, then, to get going. For better or worse, this keep is mine now, my responsibility." She paused, vaguely unnerved as she perceived the Steward's blush of surprise, followed closely by a soft, tentative gratitude. "The only people I can count on to restore my barbican are not, apparently, ready to take me seriously, so it seems I must issue my orders face to face. And I need this barbican restored. Unless, of course, Aedelwan Bridge is no longer flooded?"

Engrim shrugged, fiddled with the stem of his goblet, shuffled his feet. "Nae, no, 'tis... 'tis nae flooded..."

"It's destroyed," Kana chirped. "Ondra's mighty fist at work! I learned from a traveling hunter just the other day. The Dyrwood can't seem to steer clear of the gods' wrath, can--"

"We're going to Gilded Vale, today. Right now." Axa paused, hand on her hip, and then downed the remainder of her wine, time of day notwithstanding. She almost flung the empty bottle to the floor in a fit of pique, but then remembered the Steward, and quickly tamped down her temper. "...I want this barbican fixed. I want to get to Defiance Bay. By the Wheel, if the only way to get it done is to do it myself, I will."

No one could argue with that.

---

It was a satisfying sound, the scuffle of boots and the shouts of workers. Especially, Axa thought, when you know they're going to work for you. Although she knew the work couldn't begin for another day or two, Axa still felt a distinct sense of accomplishment as she strode out of the Hound, listening to the masons hustling behind her.

"Well, considerin' how drunk they all were, I'm surprised that went as well as it did." Edér clapped the little woman on the shoulder, grinning broadly and chewing gently on the stem of his pipe.

Aloth's voice drifted to her over her opposite shoulder. "Indeed, especially after the third time they addressed their questions to Edér and not to you, despite your repeated and... exponentially sonorous objections."

"Let it be known that the new Lady of Caed Nua does not suffer fools gladly," Kana proclaimed. "Although, speaking of fools... I can't help but notice the sun is setting, Caed Nua is almost a full day's hike away, and we're... leaving the inn?"

Axa smiled. "Remember we met Aufra on our way in? I offered to stay with her tonight, cook her some dinner, keep her company. I trust none of you object?"

No one did. She paused, and when she spoke again, she was much more subdued, almost somber.

"Last time I saw her, I was telling her her potion was horseshit and the fate of her unborn babe's soul was up to the caprices of the gods. Least I can do now is put my money where my mouth is and be the good neighbor that girl needs right now."

They walked in silence for a short stretch.

"If I'm bein' honest-- and I actually am, sometimes-- I been noticin' a lotta changes around here since we got back. Lot more smilin' people in the streets." Edér strolled up beside Axa, his blond whiskers quirking up with his grin. "Wasn't like that before you showed up. ...'Course, there is still that tree fulla dead bodies in the center of town..."

Kana winced. "Yes, I was wondering about that--"

"It's a long and gruesome tale." The man in the green cloak stepped out into the road, and Axa stopped dead in her tracks, placing herself between the stranger and her companions. "But I'd tell it, if you'd listen. You and the good Lady both."

"Kolsc." Edér whispered, surprised, but not angry. Axa's gaze flicked up to the stranger's face as he limped closer.

---

"...Did I fuck this up?"

Edér looked up from his whittling, focusing his good eye on the little woman. The other eye was still swollen shut, shiny and painful from their fight against his late Lord, but with some rest and the help of Raedric's priests-- Kolsc's priests, now-- he and the rest of his friends would be good as new for the trek back to Caed Nua tomorrow.

"Ain't too many ways I can think of to fuck up killin' a terrible murderin' bastard like Raedric," he mumbled around his mouthful of smoke, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Unless y' think we didn't kill him enough, or somethin'."

Axa's lips smiled, but the rest of her face did not follow suit. Her party was spending the night in a corner of the Berathian priests' sleeping quarters in Raedric's sanctuary, and she sat on her borrowed bed gently rocking to and fro, her knees drawn up to her chest, her sharp little nails worrying tiny holes in her trousers.

 "The Legacy makes men mad. Perhaps it does worse to women. I do not know." Raedric had looked Axa over, then, had glanced toward his bedchamber where his own wife lay dead in their marital bed--

"No, we killed him exactly the right amount, I think." The smile was already gone, soundly quashed by the ugly memory. "I just... feel like I may have acted in haste here. Like there's something I'm missing about all this that's going to bite me in the ass later, when I least expect it." She pressed her chin into her knees, curling up as tightly into herself as she could.

 --if i make myself small enough i can just hide away from all this and no one will see me--

Kana chuckled, idly leafing through a massive tome that dwarfed even his sizable lap as he reclined in the worn armchair next to Axa's bed. "Yes, it is a rough sea, the world of the ruling class! So many nerve-wracking social calculations to make, always looking over one's shoulder... The political alliances to take into account, then the family alliances, the religious affiliations... But even the Ranga Nui himself and his own son are at ideological odds! And if you're discovered as a fair-weather friend, paying lip service to either or both--"

"I think," Aloth interrupted, "perhaps, that you've made your point, Kana." The elf was just as irritable now as he had been the morning that old drunk had showed up at Caed Nua, and his half-healed broken rib was not helping to improve his mood.

And now the in-fighting begins in the esteemed Lady of Caed Nua's exclusive inner circle. Axa felt her guts redouble their efforts to destroy themselves, anxiety churning inside her like acid. "Gods, I'm ill-suited for this politicking horseshit. Why did I think I could do this? I'm Ixamitec, we don't... nobody 'owns' land, that's not how--"

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" Kana pressed on, seemingly oblivious to Aloth's peevish attitude. "Just as hard lands forge strong people, rough seas often yield great rewards. For instance, when we return to Caed Nua on the morrow, we can look forward to seeing your Brighthollow manse restored to its former beauty and prestige! Well, in part, anyway. All because of your actions here today and Kolsc's gratitude!"

"And even if you weren't gettin' somethin' out of it," Edér added, "you're the kinda lady can't rest without knowing you did the best thing y' could. Point being, y' had to do something, long-term consequences be damned. And like I said earlier, if y' have to do something, it's hard to go wrong with killing a mass-murdering shitheel like Raedric. No matter how bad Kolsc might turn out to be, better him than what we had goin' on before." He casually brushed the wood shavings from his lap, either ignoring or unaware of the annoyed glares and whispers from the priests in the room.

Axa glanced across the room at Aloth, who simply lay on his back in his bed in the corner, eyes screwed shut, his grimoire too heavy to hold in his lap without irritating his wounds. "Maybe," she sighed, lifting her head from her knees, "I should just hire on an advisor. Someone who actually knows what they're doing, to help me navigate these choppy waters." Her gaze flicked to Kana, a wicked little grin popping up on her face. "You know anyone who needs a job?"

The aumaua laughed, a thunderous noise that filled the small room. "Everyone I know is either in this room or in Rauatai, my friend! But I take your meaning. However, my own experience with the gentry is limited to the court of the Ranga Nui, a profoundly different environment from the one in which you find yourself, so I'm afraid I'd be more of a hindrance than a boon. And--" He glanced over at Edér, his smile half apologetic and half cheeky-- "I hope he'll forgive me for saying so, but our Edér doesn't seem like the sort to hobnob with the nobility."

The folk man snorted. "What tipped y' off?"

"That leaves you, Aloth," Kana continued, smiling in the elf's direction. "If I recall, you were raised among the gentry in Aedyr, were you not? That's a bit closer to the political system and aristocratic power structure here; any insight you have into that world would surely be invaluable to our Watcher. You're qualified, intelligent, you're clearly quite learned, you're... capable in battle. Why, you even came to the Dyrwood with the express purpose of finding a patron!" He was getting excited now, leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating passionately. "And here she is! What marvelous serendipity!"

Axa couldn't help but be charmed by Kana's enthusiasm, and she appreciated his effort to lift the wizard's spirits. "That's not a bad idea, actually. What say, Aloth?" She couldn't see his face from where he lay, but she could see his ears were bright red.

Not a fan of being the center of attention, I see. She felt a sudden surge of sympathy and warmth towards the man, and found her own ears reddening soon thereafter.

"I wouldn't take the gig 'f I were you. She can't even pay you, 's what I heard." Edér winked at her, taking his attention away from his whittling for just a second, then hissed with pain and surprise as his knife slipped.

Kana shook his head, his grin as wide as ever as he regarded the farmer with pity. "O, poor man! He who thinks coin is the sole and lone benefit of working for a prestigious, powerful woman like our Watcher! The true rewards of such a vocation are not in material wealth, my friend, but in the challenge! Rebuilding the glorious Caed Nua from the crumbling ruins... The intrigue of the political world of the Dyrwood... the tension, the drama... not to mention the treasure trove of ancient Engwithan secrets just waiting to be discovered in the Endless Paths!" He sighed like a lovestruck maiden telling her friends of her handsome beau. "Ah! I'm so envious. Were I more well-suited to the position, I'd have accepted her first offer in an instant! As it is, it seems I'll have to settle for hired muscle. Either way, I couldn't ask for a finer directress!" Now Axa's entire face was getting warm, and she found herself unable to look at Kana, although she could feel his eyes on her, his smile, warming her like gentle spring sunlight.

 "Aye, I wager ye'd leap at a position 'neath 'er, slick-a-britches."

Aloth very quickly clapped a hand over his open mouth-- the loud pop! filling the little room-- and then came the long, shuddering groan of pain muffled behind his fingers, the sudden movement having yanked at his sore ribs.

Axa immediately flopped over onto her side, laughing like Hel, unable and unwilling to stop herself. Edér's eyebrows leapt up his forehead, surprise and delight clear on his face, chuckling through his nose due to the wounded thumb in his mouth.

"...She seems impressed. I think you've got the job, my friend!" Kana quipped, flipping to a new page in his gigantic book. He paused, considering, and then leaned forward in his seat, cocking his head with curiosity. "...Did you say 'slick-a-britches'?"

"No. I didn't. I said nothing." The elf's voice was quiet and short and clipped. "I'm in immense pain and I'm speaking complete and utter idiotic meaningless nonsense. ...Can we please talk about anything else." Axa was still giggling, tip of her tongue sticking out between her front teeth. He squirmed with embarrassment, and it hurt.

"As you say. How about this animancy research?" The scholar lifted the huge tome on his lap, tilting it up to show Edér as he crossed the room to wash and wrap his thumb. "I'm no animancer, to be sure, but from what little I've managed to decipher from Osyra's records, she may have been onto something!"

Aloth bristled, his breath hitching in his chest as he exhaled a bit too sharply. He had said 'anything else,' hadn't he. "All any animancer has accomplished, at the very best, is to swell their own ego and their own coinpurse. In particular, Osrya was a dangerous, insane monster who mutated kith into abominations. I have no interest whatsoever in reading anything that woman may have seen fit to record."

Anyone else would take the man's curt tone and disparaging language as the opposite of an invitation to continue. Kana continued with renewed gusto, "But if what Osrya posits is true-- and as far as I can tell, her methods are logically sound, if not morally-- why, then this may just provide the solution to the Legacy that the Dyrwood has been searching for these long years!"

Axa had stopped laughing a while back, but only now did she sit back up. She remembered the animancer's words, recited them aloud with an accuracy she would not ordinarily expect from herself--

 "It must be a localized effect. Something which strips the soul from a body, as the bîaŵacs are known to do. I have detected, even so, lingering traces of essence upon the bodies of so-called Hollowborn. This suggests that the soul itself has not been wholly destroyed. It remains, I think, intact somewhere."

Everyone-- even Aloth, lifting his head from his pillows-- looked at her, dumbstruck. The few priests remaining in the room hurriedly shuffled out, angrily whispering prayers to ward their souls against blasphemy.

"Um." She coughed, suddenly uncomfortably self-conscious. "That was... what she had to say, anyway. Before we had to kill her. ...If I'm remembering correctly."

"That's... what's in here, more or less, yes," Kana blurted, his ever-present grin tinged with nervousness as he shut the enormous book.

"So, what," Edér drawled, squinting at his half-finished carving as he turned it this way and that, "Hollowborn got a soul, but... somethin' or, or someone takes it from 'em soon as they're born?" He furrowed his brow, frowned at a blotch of red on the misshapen wooden thing in his hand. "And... what, hides 'em somewhere? Eats 'em? Why?"

"That would depend, it seems, on who or what is manipulating the souls, I would think." Kana actually frowned, now, staring blankly into the book. "Although I'd be hard-pressed to identify a creature capable of manipulating souls on this grand a scale, for this long, with this much apparent ease and consistency... short of, perhaps, a god." He glanced furtively at Edér, holding up his huge hands in deference. "Not that I'm attempting to implicate any particular deity..."

The farmer shook his head slowly, eyes shut tight with conviction. "Don't worry about me thinkin' that. Like I said before-- I can't and won't believe that Eothas was the kinda god would do somethin' like this."

"Do you believe, then, as some in your country do, that the recent prevalence of animancy is to blame?" The scholar was fumbling for a bit of charcoal, now, eager to take notes. "Keep in mind, the Vailian Republics has not suffered a similar Hollowing despite being the leading animancy practitioners on Eora--"

"Whether the recent uptick in animancy has caused the Legacy by inviting the ire of the gods is nigh impossible to know, and thus pointless to discuss," Aloth interjected, "although I certainly wouldn't put it past many of the gods to come up with a bizarre, horrific punishment like the Legacy in retribution for any slight from us kith, real or perceived.” He glanced balefully at the door the Berathians had shut behind them as they’d left. “What can be meritoriously discussed is what to do about the unbridled, barely educated charlatans taking advantage of a terrified and exhausted populace, using the Hollowborn crisis to feed their sick curiosity and their pocketbooks both. That is the everyday reality of animancy that must be dealt with in the Dyrwood, for the good of the citizenry." He winced in pain, his impassioned argument a bit too much for his battered body. "...Ahem. In my opinion."

"I don't think I know enough about any of it to have much of an opinion about it, bein' honest." Edér scratched the back of his neck, squinting in confusion as Kana eagerly copied down the conversation, his attention ping-ponging excitedly between each successive speaker. "I feel like that whole world is way, way beyond my ken. Might have to leave the thinkin’ to you on that, Boss Lady." He smiled over at the orlan, glad to see her relaxing and engaging with other kith instead of clutching her knees and staring into the middle distance. He'd seen enough of that during the Saint's War. "...Although some of 'em are tryin' to do somethin' about the Legacy, at least. I guess. This animancer was a crazy piece of shit, but she's also the only animancer I ever really chatted with, 's far's I know. So I don't really got a lot to go on. Y'know?"

"Caldara was sweet, and extremely helpful." Axa felt an odd little tug of nostalgia at the memory of the dwarf, her warm, motherly smile. "Of course, she was also dead when I met her. So you'll kind of have to take my word for it. That said, ultimately I have to agree with you, Edér: I don't know enough about animancy to pass any sort of judgment on it just yet. It seems potentially useful, perhaps even miraculously so, but also extremely volatile and dangerous." The little woman paused, stretching her sore limbs, and then laid back down on the bed with a long, cathartic sigh. "Perhaps once we reach Defiance Bay, we can get a clearer picture of what the day-to-day animancy trade is really like. Until then, I must, in good conscience, reserve all judgment on the subject."

"A wise and prudent choice, but indecision is a heavy burden. Never let it be said that our Watcher takes the easy way out!" Kana rose from his seat as he spoke, seeing that the orlan was getting ready to settle in for the night, and crossed the room to his loaner bed. "Speaking of hardships, I've heard tell that the poor weather over the last few days may have delayed the work on Caed Nua's eastern barbican. If, once we return, we find that to be the case... and if you're amenable to a bit of dungeon crawling after all this fresh air and sunshine..."

Axa half-groaned and half-laughed, like a good-natured mother finally losing patience with her annoying toddler. "Yes, Kana, I promise we will explore the Endless Paths. I already promised you before, too, remember?"

"Forgive me!" Kana chuckled as he reclined, his feet dangling over the edge of the too-small bed. "I don't mean to wheedle you, rest assured. But once I get an idea in my head, I tend to focus on it so intently as to neglect politesse!"

"We've noticed," Aloth grumbled.

The massive aumaua turned to Aloth in the bed next to his, smiling still. "That reminds me-- I've never heard that one before, 'slick-a-britches'. Did you mean to say I slicken others' breeches-- or britches, as you say-- or did you mean my own breeches are slick? As in, ah, lubricated for easier removal?” The giant snickered like a naughty schoolboy telling dirty jokes after dark in the dormitory. “Ondra’s jowls, I didn't even know you spoke Hylspeak! You must teach me some!" He wore no malice on his face, only open, honest joy and wonder-- and for some reason that bothered Aloth more than if the aumaua had been displaying naked hostility.

Axa cackled maniacally in her bed, thrashing her limbs and rolling about. In lieu of responding, Aloth slowly, deliberately pulled his coverlet up over his chin, then his nose, then his brow. His facial expression did not change.

---

It was a lovely sound, the sound of carpenters and masons plying their trades. Engrim found they sounded even lovelier with a drink in his hand and cool shade under his arse, so that's how he had elected to enjoy the afternoon while he supervised the renovations.

Now that the storm clouds had finally shoved off-- and the Little Mistress was back home with her companions, mucking about in that endless dungeon of hers-- the crew was hard at work clearing the last of the rubble and overgrown foliage from the eastern barbican's arched gateway and portcullis. By tomorrow evening, at long last, Caed Nua would have a beautifully restored barbican, allowing access to the Woodend Plains and Defiance Bay beyond. And in the meantime, Brighthollow was bustling with carpenters and porters, bringing freshly cut lumber and large, fine beds and bolts of cloth and rugs. Prettying up the Great Hall, restoring the barracks, hiring guards and posting patrols-- the fuzzy little thaynu and her stone steward had a plan for this place, and that meant that these laborers could look forward to quite a few more of these jobs and their generous pay.

Engrim smiled his gap-toothed smile, swirling his tankard of cider. It had been a gift for the Little Mistress, sent by a brewery newly under Kolsc's protection, and she had kindly opted to disperse it among the work crews before she and her party had descended into the depths under the castle.

Could get used tae this, me. If Ye'd allow fer a wee bit o' idleness, O Magran. Engrim chuckled to himself. He knew he ought to know better at his age than to press his luck with his goddess, but he just couldn't help himself, sometimes.

It took him a while to realize where the sound was coming from, because he wasn't expecting it to be behind him-- after all, he'd specifically chosen to sit in a place where he could keep an eye on all the work that he was supposed to be helping with. But then Engrim heard the scraping and scratching on the eastern side of the ruined chapel, heard the muffled shouts and the banging of fists against solid wood, and he scrambled to his feet, stumbling as quickly as his skinny old legs would carry him. He'd had to help dispatch some of the beasties and spirits that had managed to wander up from the depths of the Endless Paths once or twice already, but they'd always crawled up from the dungeons, inside the keep. That these old bulkhead doors were connected to anywhere, let alone to the Paths, hadn't occurred to anyone.

Until now. Engrim squared his shoulders and planted his feet, readied his staff, whispered a prayer to the Lady of Battle. Waited and watched as the heavy wooden doors shook with the force of a mighty blow from within.

Thump. "Harder, damn it! Or, no, wait-- is there a mechanism holding it shut? Give him some light, Aloth!"

The old priest felt his eyes bug out of his head. 'Tis 'erself! The Little Mistress' voice was unmistakable.

"Certainly, just a moment, please..." And the sound of her elf lad kissing her arse all but confirmed it. Engrim rushed forward, dropping to his rickety old knees in front of the doors, his hands scrabbling at the weathered, graying wood.

"Watcher! Mistress!"

Shocked silence hung in the air for a moment, then: "Engrim!? Thank the gods! ...We have reached the surface!"

"There is a mechanism," her aumaua rumbled, his voice thunderous even behind the thick doors. "A... surprisingly simple one, actually. If I had some light--"

"I said I'm working on it," Aloth snapped, and a moment later the cracks in the doors lit up from within. Engrim squinted against the glare, laid his hands on the twisting, smothering ivy and the dried-up, half-dead rose bushes choking the splintering planks. He furrowed his wrinkled brow, concentrated, began to burn the vegetation away with a care and precision that betrayed his years and level of sobriety.

And before long, the doors were flung wide for the first time in hundreds of years, and the Watcher of Caed Nua and her loyal allies emerged from the Endless Paths.

"Engrim, please tend to Edér; he needs healing badly." Kana gently lowered the farmer to the ground, his blond hair streaked brownish-red with blood, head rolling loose on his shoulders, and Engrim rushed to meet him with a powerful restorative blessing on his boozey breath.

"By the ricketin' Wheel, yer lot's flame's lookin' half-snuffed yerselves!" In truth, all four of them were bleeding and bruised, clutching at their various wounds and limping, although Edér was easily the worst off of the lot. "What in Hel did ye find doon in them depths?"

"Ogres. There were crazed, violent ogres," Axa rasped. "And looters who attacked us on sight. And a tribe of xaurips. And their drake." She glared at Kana, anger smoldering. "And you wanted to press on?"

No one present had ever heard Kana speak so softly. "I-- I only remarked on the changing architecture, I didn't mean to imply we ought--"

"Spirits, too. Ghosts only I could see, only I could hear." The little woman carried on, her voice rising steadily in pitch and volume. "A pool of blood and viscera. Ancient catacombs full of giant insects and... and animated corpses. And an enormous adra-and-copper statue of a man."

"Or at least th' head," Edér mumbled, now fully conscious again though still bloodied and reeling. "Copper mustache. Heh."

Axa was at his side in an instant, kneeling next to the farmer, taking one calloused hand in between her own. "Don't speak, Edér. Save your strength."

"...'M not that bad, am I?" He managed a weak smile, tried to look at her eyes, but couldn't seem to get his vision to focus. Multiple images of the orlan danced and swam in front of him, and he found that the more he tried to get one of her to stand still, the harder it became to concentrate on staying awake.

Looking at him in full light, Axa felt her stomach drop: his dilated pupils, his unfocused gaze. He's definitely concussed. Gods, we're lucky we found that Master Staircase when we did. "Perhaps," she smiled softly, "I'm being a little hyperbolic. You just look half dead, is all."

The farmer huffed a short, sharp laugh as he let his eyes slide shut. "Work that charm on me, Watcher."

"Kana." Her ire toward the aumaua had receded, but not entirely, and her sharp tone reflected it. "Help Engrim get Edér inside. Stay with him and keep him talking. I'm... I think I have to stay out here for a bit. I kind of need to see the sky right now."

The huge man tried to smile at Axa but found the attempt futile, turning to her only to see her lying on her back in the grass, staring listlessly into the zenith. So he smiled at Edér instead, gently lifting the man by his armpits and guiding him toward Brighthollow, Engrim loping alongside.

He watched them go, and once he was sure they were alone, Aloth slowly, cautiously drew up beside the prone woman. He knelt, rolled his ankle, stumbled, recovered, decided to sit on the ground instead.

"Axa, are you... are you going to be alright?" He winced. What an insightful, intelligent question to ask, Corfiser; my, you're good at this--

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" she croaked, although the sharpness that was in her voice for Kana was replaced with a gentler tone for Aloth. He noticed, and the resulting burst of self-satisfaction tinged with guilt made him think of his school days, his teachers who played favorites, how he feared them and craved their approval both.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm-- I'll apologize to Kana later, too, I'm just... tired right now. Scared." She tried to smile, grimaced instead. "Cranky."

"Well--" Aloth twisted his fingers together into tight, trembling knots of knuckles and sweat-- "Well. You've been under some... significant stress as of late, it's true, but I can't help but notice you sometimes... struggling. S-seeming to have some difficulty coping." He glanced from his hands in his lap to the ground to his hands to the woman on the ground. "I... I just want to make sure that you're alright to... continue this."

Axa sighed as deeply as her little lungs would allow, her half-lidded eyes still fixed on the heavens. "I don't know," she said at last. "I don't even really know what this is, this... new path I'm on. By the Visions, two weeks ago I was living an entirely different life! Now I'm a Watcher, a member of the Dyrwoodan gentry, I'm Awakened..."

"You've a lot on your plate, to be certain," he murmured, hoping he came off as compassionate and not dismissive. He scooted along the ground as delicately as any kith could scoot, until he was sitting alongside the woman. They still had a decent amount of distance between them, but at least now he could see her face. She did not look at him.

"I feel like I don't... know who I am, anymore." Her usually robust, confident voice quavered. "Like this is someone else's life in which I've had to take up residence. None of this feels like it's truly mine, but it definitely feels like it's all my responsibility. None of which I ever, ever asked for."

"Aye, I conne the feelin', lass." Aloth felt the words slip out, and then immediately regretted allowing them to, grimacing and squeezing his eyes shut.

When he opened them again, Axa was sitting up. "You can't help it, can you."

His heart, his stomach, his brain-- all felt as though they'd suddenly been submerged in ice water, and as she turned to him with her piercing fuchsia gaze, he half expected her to simply state aloud all of his deceptions and treacheries like some Woedican judge, her Watcher abilities having allowed her to see through all of his pitiful excuses and flimsy lies.

But instead of anger or accusation or judgment, what he saw in her eyes was... relief, almost. Wonder. "The Hylspeak. You can't help it. That's why you keep doing it, even when I've asked you to quit. Or when it's gotten you in trouble. That's why you want to go to Defiance Bay with me. With us. To find someone who can help you stop. Isn't it?"

"I-- I don't-- I was just trying to--" He sputtered and stammered, subconsciously drawing his limbs in close to his torso in an anxious, defensive hunch. He wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. He was caught, it seemed, but... not? Somehow? He fidgeted and trembled and averted his eyes from hers, unable to bear the little woman's gaze, her sad little smile as she rose to her feet and stood next to him.

And he jumped, much to his chagrin, when he felt her hand on his back. "Aloth. You can trust me. I want you to trust me. And you don't have to explain anything to me. We all have our reasons for... keeping certain things to ourselves." She gave him a knowing smile. "However, it seems that the skeletons in your closet are a bit... louder than most others'?"

He knew, of course, what she was really trying to say. How long did you think you could keep it a secret from me? I'm not stupid, and you're not exactly subtle. "It's... a problem I've had since I was a child." He sighed shakily, sagging with fatigue as he shrugged off this small portion of his heavy burden at last. "And in Aedyr, it's not the kind of thing you take your child to a healer about. Not unless you want him institutionalized... or worse."

Axa gave him a hard look, as though he had set the policy in place himself. "I see. That explains why you came to the Dyrwood for a cure." She perked up abruptly as a thought struck her. "...You know, it's a rather gratifying feeling, figuring all this out about you. It explains so much!" She smiled again, and he found himself feeling annoyed and charmed simultaneously. He'd expected either pity or disgust, and when he got curiosity instead, he felt oddly slighted. I'm not a puzzle to be solved...!

A lascivious chortle. 'She gettin' ye all fired oop, laddie?'

He shut his eyes again, curled himself up tightly. "Axa, while I am grateful for your patience with me, and your understanding regarding my... condition, I would truly appreciate it if we could keep this between the two of us. I'm... it's been a long, long time since I've really talked about this with anybody, and I don't think I'm quite ready for a full roundtable discussion regarding my mental health just yet." He glared in the direction of Brighthollow. "Not with those two, anyway. And not anymore, at all, today. Please."

"I had a feeling you were starting to reach your limit of how much you're willing to talk about it." She relented finally, lifting her little hand from between his shoulders, and he felt the weight of her scrutiny lift off of him as well. "And I'm reaching my limit of how much time I'm willing to waste feeling sorry for myself on the lawn. Come, let's get inside, get our wounds tended, check up on Edér. We'll take a day and a half to rest up and get ready, let them finish working on the barbican. Then we'll set off for the city."

Aloth rose to his feet, brushed dirt and grass from his trousers. "In my official capacity as your advisor, I wholeheartedly approve your plan, my Lady." She scoffed, laughing, and he didn't try to suppress his victorious grin. "And... upon arriving?"

She started off toward her busy little manse, the carpenters and masons gawking at the bloody, dirty little orlan with alarm. "I'll know what to do when I get there, I'm sure," she called out to the elf over her shoulder.

He sighed, picking up the pace in an effort to catch up with her. "I was afraid you'd say that."

---

"I'll know when I get there, he says," the little woman muttered to herself, leaning against the old signpost, thumbing through her bag of bone arrowheads. "Yeah. I'm sure. ...When am I gonna learn, Itumaak?"

The fox yawned in response, licked his snowy chops, and Sagani heaved a weary sigh. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to make camp.

The sun was staring to set, and the cooling air brought a refreshing breeze to the little hunter's brow. And in the wind came not only respite from the heat, but information-- smells of nature, smells of kith. Sagani could smell new rain clouds already queueing up, eager to take the place of the last ones that had just departed, but hopefully not so eager as to open up on her tonight. She could not smell any other campfires nearby, so she figured she had a halfway decent chance of getting a good night's rest undisturbed by surprise guests. She was about to say something to Itumaak, head off the road in search of a quiet spot to set up, when she looked down at him--

-- and found him standing at alert, his head cocked to the side just so, ears pricked. Sagani listened, her breath completely still in her chest.

"A bear? You were whittling a bear? I thought it was a horse!" She'd only ever heard a voice that deep and booming on an aumaua man before, and the Rauataian accent all but confirmed it.

"You ever seen a horse before?" This was a different voice, not as throaty, but still definitely an adult man, a Dyrwoodan. Sagani reached slowly for her pack, not sure yet whether to grab the adra carving or an arrow.

"Whatever it was-- is-- we'll pick it back up the next time we head down there. With some hirelings, Kana." A woman's voice now, bold and clear. Sagani found the adra carving in her hand when she drew it back to her fore, and she gazed into it.

Cold and dead. Just like always, these past few months.

"Please tell me we're not going back down into that gods-cursed dungeon solely for a half-finished wooden carving of a bear..." Sagani almost didn't hear the Aedyran, she was so disappointed by her poor fortune, but the comically coincidental "carving of a bear" comment made her at least lift her head to regard the group of kith approaching her. Itumaak was bored and anxious, and he fidgeted and whined at Sagani's hip, looking up at her with his big black eyes.

The huntress sighed as she watched the little party notice her. More friendly travellers, I'm certain. Let's just get this little introduction over with.

"Relax, Itumaak. It's not him."

---

[morris-magus-merry-miller]

Chapter 1: Explosive Beginnings

The day began like any other on the road. I was of course upon my trusty steed, Nathaniel, as we made our way on what was to be our greatest venture yet. For you see, I had decided to undertake the most perilous journey across the desert to find the Undiscovered Realm.

Only one teeny tiny little problem stood in the way of myself and my dear companion Nathaniel…we were lost. Horribly, terribly…lost. Not a speck of sand in sight. In fact, quite a few trees instead. It makes sense, since the town we were approaching was called Dualwood.

Oh and there was a mountain. Hard to miss the mountain. Big old thing. The guard at the front of town called it “Mt Terminus”. It’s supposed to be some sort of big important proving point for adventurers. A big important dangerous deadly proving point I had no intention of going near, for you see I already had my own important dangerous and daring quest to venture forth upon, so I hardly needed to add a mountain to that. I was certainly not afraid. Just because the mountain is huge and high up. And supposedly there’s two-headed banshees and other such terrifying monstrosities lurking in wait for the next adventurer who willingly walks straight into their jaws of defeat. And the town guard make regular journeys to clean up the bodies they can safely retrieve…

 …Note to self, maybe edit this part before the final draft…

Note to self 2: less fear, more Big Adventurer Gusto

Of course, flying off course wasn’t going to put a damper on my mood. Oh no. So I found the most lovely bakery in town, ordered some local delicacies which I absolutely whole heatedly suggest if, dear reader, you ever pass this way. Splendid woman, and her bear claws are to die for. Only maybe don’t word it like that, since this town takes that kind of terminology quite literally what with the giant killer mountain looming above them every moment of the day and all that.

With a full belly and a new spring in my step, I stepped I strode boldly into town to find someone with the know-how to point me in the direction of the nearest desert so that I may truly begin my grand adventure to the Undiscovered Realm.

And there, in the center of town, I met a man of great wisdom. He was clearly a storied and well-traveled adventurer himself, for he wore the most splendid dress. Colored in majestic bright hues of reds and oranges, with a grand hat to rival even mine atop his head. It even had not one, not two, but FOUR bells upon each of its grand little horn-like protrusions. He was granting his wisdom in the form of riddles that I didn’t much understand. “Urgathoa? I hardly knew her!” Why and how would one know the Goddess of Undeath? Unless he was himself a zombie…he didn’t look it but you never know these days…

My ramblings aside! I spoke with the wise gentleman, asking him if he knew where the nearest desert is. He seemed to be under the impression I was sent by some guild or another. Perhaps, recognizing my adventuring gear, he believed me to be from the same adventurers’ guild as he? But alas, I am very much a lone wolf upon this adventure, taking to the road with none but Nathaniel for company. It’s a lonely life, especially since Nathaniel can only be summoned for about six hours at a time. But that is the lot in life of an adventurer, and so it is my burden to bear until I have reached my grand journey’s end.

Anyways, the wise man of many bells pointed me in the direction of a nearby temple. There he believed the learned clerics and holy travelers who pass through may be able to grant me guidance in my travels, and return me to my rightful path to the desert, and the mysterious land that lies within it.

 Within the Temple (mysteriously named “The Temple” and even more mysteriously with a sign out front that said, and I quote, “‘Clerical’ services available”. How ridiculous is that? Nobody will believe you’re providing clerical services if you put it in quotation marks as though it is a front for something!)

Author’s note: Oh my Shelyn I think it was a front for something.

 Within the Temple, I met with a grand group of lovely adventurers. There was Miss Candy, a bright and cheery human chef who also on an unrelated note looks like she could break me in half. Snap me like a twig. Probably with just her legs.

Oh dear this is starting to sound like a sex thing. Note to self, do not ever describe it like that again.

There was Miss Candy, a bright and cheery human chef with a love of pink and a surprising talent for kicking things to death. There was Sir Vigo, a mighty and powerful goblin wizard with a knack for fire and animals. Strange combination to be sure, but it works for him. Speaking of animals, there was also Issac, a druid half-orc who is so tall I have not actually gotten a good look at his face. It’s just way up there in the sky somewhere. But of arguably greater import, there was his companion, a bear named Peanut. And I do mean a bear. A literal black bear, just hanging around inside the temple, gentle as a dog. He and Vigo had a rousing conversation, although I know not what about as I cannot speak bear myself, but it would seem the magics of the universe granted Vigo such an ability. Where was I…? Oh, yes. There was also John Smith, a human many years my senior who I suspect has lived a very storied life, although he has not let on just what that story is. He said some rather off-color things in our first meeting, but I do believe there is more to this gentleman than meets the eye. (Not that I can easily meet his eye either, while he is not so tall as Issac, he is a human which generally means ‘much taller than even a really tall halfling’, and I am not a ‘really tall halfling’. I am ‘a very medium halfling’)

Here we met one Cleric Ringwald. Although the more she said, the more it seemed like cleric was an overstatement. She said she worshiped something called “The Creator”, and that the only magic she could do were some simple tricks like magic missile…which looking back, I don’t believe is even a divine spell! Regardless, she told us of a rat problem they were having, and since we were all clearly of the adventuring variety, she wanted to offer us some money and five magic stones to clear the rats out. Only it turned out quite quickly that there weren’t REALLY rats in the basement. Oh, no. When pressed about some rather odd choices in her inflection, she admitted that the creature in the bowls of the temple was a mass of slime, gore, limbs, eyes, and mouths.

For those familiar with earlier works in the M Merry-Miller collection, you may recognize such a description. In Night of the Hallowed Moon, the brave sorceress Emilia faced off against a similar such creature. A gibbering mouther. Disgusting creature in person, I must say. Its sounds alone were enough to make me wish I had not eaten just before hand.

We made our preparations. The grand team of newly acquainted adventurers burst forth into the room, where the beast awaited its demise. As a mysterious fog began to fill the room, the adventurers rushed forward, ready for what was to come.

The fog was, by the way, an ingenious ploy by dear John, who used it as a means to protect us all from the creature’s attacks. Unfortunately it also meant that hitting the creature was a bit more difficult—the fog was, after all, quite difficult for us to see through as well. But for all I know he may well have saved Miss Candy’s life, as the creature tried and failed to bite at her a number of times.

Knowing from past research that this creature would not be affected by my magical talent, I went for the next best thing. A crossbow. With a steady breath despite the (rather cigarette smelling if I’m being honest) smoke, I took aim, and infused my bolt with a nice little punch of my arcane magics. I fired with a flourish, and while I feared from the fog and the creature’s writhing that it would not strike, it struck true, sticking into one of the creature’s many eyes. There was blood everywhere. It was horrific, quite frankly.

Fortunately, Vigo used that moment to slip in closer to the writhing monstrosity. With a shout of some clever words (note to self: think of clever one-liner since he didn’t say any at the time), the feared and powerful wizard evaporated half of the creature’s body with a single lightning strike.

 And this is when things started to get out of hand.

As my gallant companions went to check on a hole in the floor that seemed to be how the wicked beast had entered this fair establishment, there was a commotion outside. Myself, John, and Candy were nearest the door at the time and went to investigate. We found Cleric Ringwald packing in a frenzy within her surveillance room. She tossed some coin to her acolyte Amelia (a skittish elven woman who had apparently directed some of the other adventurers to this location) and told her to get out of town.

Ringwald turned to us when we entered and told us the same, to get far away from here. She tossed us the magic stones she had promised as payment, and said that ‘if we survived’ she would pay more for further services if we met her in Port Town. Then she cast some rather powerful magic on us which made each of us feel revitalized, and she disappeared in a flash of awe inspiring arcane might the likes of which I had never seen.

But oh, I was about to see so much more, dear reader.

You see, I mentioned we were in a surveillance room, yes? By that I mean a room with a number of scrying mirrors which all permanently showed different sections of The Temple. And into the front room stepped a man. I say a man loosely. There was something off about him. He looked like a man, yes. A man with black hair, purple eyes, and robes depicting the butterfly of Desna—which my companions later revealed was a glamour, for it actually depicted a dragonfly symbol of some unknown origin. The reason I question if he was truly a man in the traditional sense was a strange segmentation in his hands at the joints. At first glance it could be mistaken for scars, as one of my companions later stated. However something about them was off. It was less a scar in the skin and more actual barely noticeable separate segments. While my genre of choice is not science fiction, I have read my fair share, and it brought to mind stories I had read in the past of humans created from technology and steel rather than flesh and blood. I know, I know, it sounds crazy. The closest thing we have to such a thing are golems, and they are never so realistic to be mistaken for a living breathing creature. How could such a being truly exist? Quite frankly, dear reader, I know not. But I do know his power was beyond the natural order. We were about to see that first hand.

 The man walked into The Temple’s entry, calling out to Ringwald. He just wanted to talk. Don’t make this harder than it needed to be. She had forced his hand. He began scattering orbs about, while humming a tune I’m unfamiliar with. John tugged at Candy’s sleeve and insisted we had to go. Now.

“Why?”

“Those are delayed fireball charges. He’s about to bring this entire place down!”

We ran, making a beeline for the hole in the basement, which we hoped would lead to safety—or at least shelter from the explosion that was to follow.

Candy quite kindly carried me, Peanut, and Vigo with her much faster legs. We leapt down the hole, and followed a tunnel that led to a ladder up. Looking back, that’s rather strange. I wonder if someone planted that gibbering mouther in the first place. But at the time we were far too busy running for our lives to think of such things. Candy practically flew up the ladder, along with John who was in a mad dash to get back to the stables. It would seem he had paid a stable hand to watch over his daughter while he was in town buying supplies, and he needed to get to her in case the explosion reached that far. Once we made it back above ground Vigo, Issac, and Peanut went with John to check on the stables, as Vigo’s trusty mount Gordon the Ram was stabled there as well.

This left myself and Candy to see when the mysterious dragonfly man descended from the exploding Temple and to the center of town. A storm had whipped up, with a fury of thunder and lightning positively cracking open the sky—but no rain to join it.

The man was chanting in tones that I recognized as Celestial, but I am unfortunately not well versed in that language. However it would seem John was. Over the magical stones his voice spoke to the rest of us, and he told us that the man was about to do something terrible to the entire town, and to get out of there.

Candy had other ideas.

With me still upon her back, she ran at the villain. She leapt forward, posed to kick him and interrupt whatever terrible spell he was weaving.

The storm grew more violent, the clouds swirling and turning an unnatural pink hue. Then everything went black.

 And then we woke up, on the ground before an empty town square. It was dark and silent. The stars were above us in a clear night sky, but the stars didn’t twinkle. Birds and butterflies were frozen in place in the air. There was no breeze, and the grass beneath our feet remained static with each footfall, frozen into whatever shape our feet pressed it into. The people in town were equally frozen. Not a breath, not a blink between them. Candy and I were the only ones in sight still moving.

We made for the stables, where we knew our fellow adventurers had gone. There, they were moving as well. But John’s daughter was not: frozen in a moment of fear, with the stablehand shielding the young child from harm, equally frozen. Somehow Vigo’s ram Gordon was fine, still moving and ‘baa’ing as a ram should.

We tried to brainstorm why we were able to escape the effects of this spell, which the more magically inclined members of our group identified as a potent mixture of a Stasis spell on a massive scale and Miracle—the most powerful of powerful divine magics. The best we would think of was that whatever spell Ringwald had cast upon us had also protected us from the spell that had otherwise pulled an entire village out of the natural flow of time.

As if to prove our theory, Ringwald’s acolyte Amelia pulled herself limping from the nearby rubble of the Temple, the only other person we’d seen in town left unaffected besides ourselves. She needed a moment to catch her breath, so we continued to brainstorm while she did.

Vigo wanted to climb Mt Terminus, believing the treasure at the top would be necessary to make us powerful enough to face the monster who had done this. Issac was in disagreement—he’d been living in this town for months, and had seen first-hand how deadly that trip is. According to him only one single group of adventurers had ever reached the top and lived to tell the tale, and they were the best of the best. Our inability to face this monstrous man was proof enough that we would die upon the peaks of the mountain long before we reached the treasure—and with us, all knowledge of what had happened in town. The rest of our band of adventurers believed that tracking down Cleric Ringwald would be the ideal next step. She seemed to have some mysteriously powerful magic of her own, and a history with this individual. Vigo wasn’t happy with this plan, as it might be putting us right back into the line of sight of the man whose magic broke the natural order.

Issac was finally able to talk Vigo into it, promising to join him on venturing to the top of the mountain after we got Ringwald and unfroze the town. None of us had any intention of facing this man again if we could help it—except for possibly John, who sounded rather keen on punching him in the face. I can’t blame him, his daughter is on the line after all. I can think of a few faces I find rather punchable myself that would probably come back to bite me afterwards. But that’s neither here nor there.

Once it was agreed we would head to Port Town to find the cleric who may or may not really be a cleric, who has some connection to the man who may or may not really be a man, Amelia asked to tag along since she had nowhere else to go. We happily agreed. While we prepared to set out, Amelia showed us how to use the magic stones—called the Stones of Far Speech—which we could use to talk to each other from a great distance, as John had done when trying to warn us about the dragonfly man’s spell.

On our way out of town I summoned Nathaniel, ready to head back out onto the open road—this time with a number of companions and a new destination in sight. It wasn’t quite the adventure I’d been looking for, but it appears adventure found me none-the-less. And really, isn’t that what being a daring adventurer is all about?

(note to self: you used ‘adventure’ 3 times in 2 sentences, find some synonyms before the final draft)

[obsoletesystem]

D&D Ask Meme

@wisdom-fangs​ asked me to do all the questions of this D&D ask post. So I did. 1. A favorite character you have played. I really like playing monstrous characters. Currently in Adventurers League, I play Frattek Venvaris, bugbear rogue/barbarian, who is a delightfully goofy character. But I also miss playing Bajur Mashoir, a very charismatic lizardfolk "voodoo" shaman, whose catchphrase was: "As you can see, I am an alligator, sir..." spoken in a thick southern brawl. 2. Your favorite character that someone else has played. During a one shot the guy that played an evil halfling warlock sacrificed himself to blow up the big bad with a block of dynamite. The true MVP. 3. Your favorite side quest. Idk. 4. Your current campaign. I DM a homebrew campaign, in which the party is stuck between sides in a war between the local Jarl and a fey duchess who has taken over a part of the woods. I also participate as a player in a slight homebrewed Salt Marsh campaign, in which I play a tiefling cleric of Pelor. She's got a Sad Backstory. 5. Favorite NPC. The Loathesome Gribble, an NPC in the game I DM, who is a very small tiefling sorcerer with an immense knife collection and a four-armed aasimar monk girlfriend. He is found in the most of unlikely places and his signature spell is "Gribble's Hand of Sand", which may or may be not magical, as it blinds a creature with sand, but the material component is just a handfull of coarse sand. 6. Favorite death (monster, player character, NPC, etc). The druid in our home game charged into giant stag form at a huge burning construct (The Burning Man from Burning Man, but moving), missed his attack, upon which the Burning Man rolled nat 20's on BOTH ITS ATTACKS. No advantage, no nothing, just two straight 20's. He grabbed the stag by its antlers, turned its head 360 degrees, and dropped a flaming, mutilated dwarf to the ground. 7. Your favorite downtime activity. I always like to do something that tells a little bit about the culture of the creature I play. When I was on haitus because of school, I described how Frattek had spend some time with his little bugbear niece, and had just returned from a fun little war (seeing as bugbears love to fight). 8. Your favorite fight/encounter. We had to fight a vampire spawn in a dank, dark basement, but it was light outside, and Frattek is incredibly good at grappling creatures, so we dragged the vampire out from his basement into the sunlit street, and then made a run for it as we had broken into a house. 9. Your favorite thing about D&D. Coming together with friends and not drinking (a lot) or smoking weed. I like doing those things too, but it is also fun to just hang out and play games where heavy drinking is not really handy. 10. Your favorite enemy and the enemy you hate the most. Dragons are the best, spellcasters are the worst. Spellcasting Dragons are the bees knees. My players, however, are going to hate a certain spellcaster very much. Once they find out... 11. How often do you play and how often would you ideally like to play? Usually once a week, but I'd love to be able to balance twice a week. One day as player, one day as DM. 12. Your in game inside jokes/memes/catchphrases and where they came from. "Name and occupation, please" comes from when we played Pathfinder, and one of the characters died, but I didn't want to get rid of him yet or he was set up to be reincarnated or some shit idk. Anyway, his soul arrives in purgatory, which turns out to be this bureaucratic office, where he has to stand in line for a long, long time, before arriving at a booth/desk type situation, in which an Ophanim angel (one of them burning wheels full of eyes) floats that asks with a bored sigh "Name and occupation, please". The player answered, and was set up for reincarnation, which involved shooting his soul from a cannon/drop tube into the unborn baby of a local woman. The child grows up unnaturally quickly, and because it has the soul of a mature orc barbarian, it is more than a little trouble. Nephertheless, the "Name and occupation, please" gag remained forever. 13. Introduce your current party. My Homeboys, the Lords of Okab Volal, are Nazreen, a wood elf ranger who missed her wolf, played by @tabula-wasa​, Tophr Thanestone, the previously mentioned dwarf druid who was murdered by a giant flaming effigy and subsequently reincarnated/put into the body of a frost elf woman (something he hasn't come to terms with) played by our bearded friend Glenn, and Adelon Vrena, half-elf bard/cleric/divine soul sorcerer a.k.a. Healer Supreme, who is really righteous but not above torturing a captive githyanki, and played by Arnaud. The Schadestenen (meaning "Damage Stones", as in dice), which is the OG Adventurers League group in the Spellenhoorn in Hoorn, consist of Aiden Rainbowscale (Albino orphan wood-elf monk/barbarian), Fjorgyn (dwarven cleric of Moradin, who died last week and still suffered from the Death Curse. RIP.), Frattek Venvaris (Bugbear barbarian/arcane trickster and gladiator/luchador, played by me), Gideon Thornton (cowardly Half-Orc Hexblade), Grommash Hellscream (Stereotypical Half-Orc Barbarian. Great guy.), Ruldra (disgraced Hobgoblin undead-hunting Ranger), Cadence (Powerful but stupid Half-elf Grave Cleric/Divine Soul Sorcerer who never learned how to read), Ullr (Arnaud's Gloom Stalker and Human Machine Gun), and Darin (half-elf ranger and Master Of Backflip). The Peeps from Salt Marsh, DMed by the guy that plays Darin, in which Arnaud plays William Wisenose, The Awfully Lucky Halfling Build (halfling wizard/bard/whatever), Cadence's player plays Sylver Ravenstar (half-elf bard/hexblade/run away princess), her friend plays Samm Enoch (Aasimar Bard and Very Handsome Man), Aiden's player plays Ankis (Aasimar Celestial Warlock and very secretive about both these facts because Back Story), and his friend plays Vena Malum (Human Bloodhunter, who is really buff and does that swirly thing with her falchions, and oh my...), Grommash's player plays Morgain of Astora (human paladin of Pelor, and companion/boyfriend/substitute son to my character), and I play Paytsarra Avèry (winged tiefling cleric of Pelor). Praise the sun. 14. Introduce any other parties you have played in or DM-ed. We had one party consisting of a drider, a very evil dwarf, a fire genasi, a gnome psychic, and a kenku ninja at one point. When the evil dwarf died, and I introduced the guy's new drow "medic", I knew I lost all cohesion of the group. 15. Do you have snacks during game times? My players do. I don't like snacks that much. 16. Do you play online or in person? Which do you prefer? In person. I tried playing online, and I think I would do again, but only if I'd have a really good headset. 17. What are some house rules that your group has? In the Salt Marsh campaign you double the value of the dice on a crit, which I think is disappointing. I just wanna roll a lot of dice :( 18. Does your party keep any pets? @tabula-wasa​'s ranger has a dire wolf...somewhere...

19. Do you or your party have any dice superstitions? Not that I know of. I do know some of my dice seem to roll better than others. 20. How did you get into D&D? How long have you been playing? I found a d&d character creation app on the web ages ago, and that sparked my interest. Later I joined a warhammer fantasy role play group with a friend I had been rp-ing online with a lot, but this was the real deal, at Arnaud's house. He dmed number of campaigns for us, and later he joined my pathfinder group which turned into a D&D 5th edition group. 21. Have you ever regretted something your character has done? Yeah. Frattek decided to be a hero and tried to assassinate an ogre torturer. He failed his shot. We had to fucking run. 22. What color was your first dragon? The first dragon I fought as a character was a young Red Dragon. Even at 5th level, we whooped its ass. He found himself in a cave, surrounded by fools, and we beat him to pulp. The first dragon I put in front of my players was a young White Dragon. It kicked their asses. 23. Do you use premade modules or original campaigns? I usually homebrew my own campaigns, but I have dmed some AL sessions. 24. How much planning/preparation do you do for a game? Not an incredible amount, but for my home game I prepare ideas months, even years, in advance. For DMs 25. What have your players done that you never could have planned for? A lot. The most notable was casting Dispel Magic on the demiplane-item the cultists were in... and then opening the demiplane underwater. 26. What was your favorite scene to write and show your characters. I had these zombies that always repeated the last thing they said before they died, which was cool and creepy. But the thing I really wrote out was the description of how an Astral Ship warps space around itself, and what that looks like from the people on the deck of the ship. 27. Do you allow homebrew content? If it's well written, absolutely, but there is a lot of shit out there. 28. How often do you use NPCs in a party? When it makes sense, but I try not to do that too often. 29. Do you prefer RP heavy sessions or combat sessions? I prefer RP sessions, but I am leaning more toward combat. On the other hand, I don't think it completely excludes each other nor should it. I am of the opinion that 30. Are your players diplomatic or murder hobos? Rather diplomatic, but they can definitely kick ass. For Players 31. What is your favorite class? Favorite race? I like casters, and I will always have an affinity for wizards, but arcane tricksters and eldritch knights are cool too. I like elves, and I like monstrous races; goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears. I like things that are pretty and scary, or creepy and goofy. 32. What role do you like to play the most? (Tank/healer/etc?) I usually mix a bit of tank and dps. I don't like being very frail, but I do enjoy doing a lot of damage in one shot. 33. How do you write your backstory, or do you even write a backstory? I tend to write a character from a concept, and then build out the backstory. How did this person become the person they are today? Even if you have something of a bugbear, or a hobgoblin, or a yuan-ti. They have had a childhood, they have role models, they have culture. But what is that? What defines a character? What makes them they way they are? I don't like playing monstrous races that have been adopted by a "better, nobler race" like humans and elves and dwarves. I get the appeal, but I also think it is a little trite, and a little condenscending, almost. I think a lot about what defines a monstrous identity, and being a Cultural Anthropologist, I think a lot about the way culture shapes the values and morality and thus also behaviour of a creature. Do hobgoblins tell their children bedtime stories? What are they about? How will a bugbear struggle in regular humanoid society, where his violent urges -natural to him- are equally, or even more excessively violently repressed and punished? Is this just for bugbears? Will they then look for each other, and find each other in their shared cultural/natural tendencies? Are there goblinoid lawyers or activist groups, that seek to protect other goblinoids from unjust treatment under laws that aren't theirs? How will your life be if you are a second or third or even fourth generation inhuman creature in a human society? Do they dream of returning to a society that is 'theirs'? And is there even such a thing? And if there is, will they actually fit in, or forever be an outcast, neither hob nor man? I tend to poke at such questions with my character backstories. 34. Do you tend pick weapons/spells for being useful or for flavor? Everything is useful, since everything is always situational. If you plan only for situations in which you are going to kill every living thing, then you shouldn't pick something like Rope Trick, or Magic Circle. But you do you. I very much dislike decoupling "flavour" from functionality. This is a game of make-belief, so everything you do is flavour. The mechanics are an abstraction of a fantastic reality, and though inherently important to the working of the game (without rules, it would merely be improvisation, which is also a kind of game, but schwa), it is all flavour. People that brag about how much average damage they can do with this or that specific build tire me. 35. How much roleplay do you like to do? All of the roleplay! But please let me punt goblins into the garbage sometimes!

[thisweekingundamwing]

TWIGW Feb 18 - 24, 2018

Happy Roundup Day!! Once again, a special thanks to everyone who submitted works; it makes our job so much easier, and helps us catch things we may miss in the shuffle. You only need to dive into the Gundam Wing tag to see just how much love still exists in our fandom.

Also, as this is my first week as a mod, please be gentle if you don’t see your work here. It’s difficult to fill in the blanks beyond the submissions we receive.

Thanks so much and have a lovely week!

--Mod Rem

Fanfiction:

A Little Piece of Gundam Wing

The archive is being ported to AO3! Check it out!

Amberly, yourbloodlikewine

In This Light

Duo spent the last semester working in his older brother's coffee shop. He's resigned himself to a boring spring when a stranger appears, shaking up his entire life.

Eli left home last fall, choosing to spend the last six months living out of his van on his travels from the Midwest to the East Coast. By the time he arrives at Ink's, the novelty of traveling alone has started to wear off. Still, the last thing he's expecting is to meet someone who's going to change all that for him

Pairings: 2xOC, 3xOC, SoloxOC

Warnings: Original Characters - Freeform, Alternate Universe, child abuse mention, Sexual Assault Mention, homophobic parents, Re-Written Characters, Drug Use, Violence, off screen murder, gratuitous author indulgence

Ammiehawk

If He’s Anything Like Me

What if not one, or even two, of the Gundam pilots had a son together, but all five? Some genetic experiment gone awry, or is something else at work here? Yaoi

Pairings: 2xSeverus Snape, 4x1, 3x5

Warnings: Crossover - Harry Potter

@claraxbarton

The Green Door

Duo visits an adult novelty store for the first time.

Pairings: 5x2, 3x5, HxM, 1xR, 2x3x5

@duointherain

To Be Human is to Love

Duo and Heero are working a damaged part of their new colony, things go wrong.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Spaced

@kangofu-cb

If You Let Me

If Trowa could give the new residents one rule for surviving the ICU, it would be ‘Don’t Touch Anything. (Especially The Patients.)’.  In reality, he’d actually give them a lot of rules, possibly with diagrams for clarity.  But his main rule essentially covered the bases. When you worked in one of the largest ICUs, in the biggest medical center in the country, at a hospital known for taking on unstable patients for the most complex and risky surgeries that were performed no-where else, new residents were a menace. Until he meets Dr. Maxwell, the newest anesthesia resident.

Pairings: 2x3, background HxD

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Medical, Doctor/Patient, Nurses & Nursing, Fluff and Smut, this is literally my feel good thing guys ok, I mean I’m not saying there won’t be any angst, but basically this is all WAFF

Of Infinity

The morning after "On The Edge."

Pairings: 2x3x4

Warnings: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, just a big orgy honestly, tithes for 2x3x4, also a sequel, sort of cocktail friday

Lsama_no_miko

Posted multiple fics, too many to list here

Check out their page here 

Maldoror

The Source of All Things

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.

Pairings: 3x4, 2x5, eventual 1x2x5

Warnings:  alternative universe, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Plot Twists, fairly graphic depiction of sex, Mild description of self-harm, Mathematical Magic, weird science, crones - Freeform, Magic and Technology brawling and eventually screwing, Eventual Threesome, Kinda, Insanity of arcane origin, The universe is a pile of marbles and other dubious allegories

Two Halves

The two kingdoms of Sanq and Lin were at war for years; a conflagration involving magic, armies and political murder. The conflict left both nations devastated and strewn with refugees. The king of Sanq finds his infant son, lost at birth, among the death and the ruin, a miracle he barely dared to hope for. But there isn’t just one boy, there are two, clinging together like two halves of a whole that cannot be separated. Decades later, the truth behind that second child’s existence will put a hole in the world, or possibly save it.

Pairings: 1x2

Warnings: Fantasy AU, medieval setting with magic, starts with our heroes as children, Cousin Incest, sort of, eventually, being royalty this is in fact the norm and rather expected of them, Canon-Typical Violence

@remsyk-blog

Distracting Dissertations 

All Wufei wants to do is finish his dissertation and enjoy the rest of the weekend. He just needs to take care of a few distractions.

Pairings: 2x5

Warnings: Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Just an excuse to do it, How else can I put this?

SmallSound

Two Truths and a Lie

A few years after they join Preventer, Duo and Heero are sent on a space mine clean-up mission. Alone in space together for several weeks, the two ex-Gundam pilots find they have time to find out who they are and who they want to be.

Warnings: Some fluff, Some angst, Sex, New love, Polyamory Negotiations, this is gonna be a long one

Thai_Tea_Addict

Wolves and Lambs

On the cusp of war, Remus Lupin discovers he has a son. Facing a prejudiced wizarding world unwilling to believe Voldemort has returned, Remus must now navigate his duties as both a member of the Order and as a father to one Duo Maxwell. Duo doesn’t know a lot about families, but he knows war. HP Fifth Year, Post-GW main series

Pairings: 1x2, 2xHP, 3x4, Romione

Warnings: Harry Potter crossover, Family Reconstruction Act, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Politics, Wizarding Politics, War, Disturbing Themes

@yesacia

Mission: Christmas

Duo gets tired of spending Christmas alone, and realizing he's the only one who celebrates inspires him to bring the others in on the festivities.

Warnings: Duo and Quatre are bffs, Quatre is guilty, Duo just wants y'all to have a merry christmas ok

 Late Night Reading 

Duo reflects a little bit about his love for reading and makes an interesting discovery about a parallel between one of his favorite fictional characters and his long time friend he never noticed before.

T for language. This is just sort of an idea, pretty short, it's based when the guys are in their 20s and still adjusting. Comes out of the On Again, Off Again universe.// an older fic from my FF.net account

Pairings: 1x2

 Random Duo Thoughts 

Random drabbles about Duo's Life Post-War

Pairings: 1x2, 2x3

Warnings: On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Blurbs from a bigger project

 Random Quatre Thoughts 

Thoughts of Quatre Post-War

Warnings: Recreational Drug Use, Drug Use, Lonely Quatre

Snippets:

@cosmostar​

One of the Road - WIP Featuring Heero Yuy and Cathy Bloom

@gw-ficrecfriday

Just Because - Snippet of Quatre Winner, Dorothy Catalonia 

@lemontrash

Thursday (300) - WIP 2x5 

@lbro009

Insider Snippet: Midii Une - WIP Wednesday

@lifeaftermeteor

LAM!verse snippet - Heero en Route 

@noirangetrois

Dancing with the Duke - WIP for Rewrite the Romance 

@relenaforpresident

The Agreement - 1xR 

@terrablaze514

Touched by an Angel - WIP Wednesday 1x2 

Thirsty for a Change - Snippet Sunday 1+4. Quatre POV

 Photo Edits/Manipulations

@goldenfirefox

Keep Your Word You Fool! 

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

Multiple Contributors

Possible HCs Discussion 

@lifeaftermeteor

Dr J and Professor G 

@gundamwing-ellesmith

Heero’s Birthday 

@robo-rad

Office Workers HCs 

Fanart:

@arubees

Zechs and Duo 

@drkstars-art

Bizarre Circus - Trowa Barton and Quatre Winner 

@enukoblr

Duo Maxwell 

@noelleian

Duo Maxwell 

Lady Une 

@vegalume

Color of old sketch - 1x2

@zibelinbelt

Meet-up in Town 

Cosplays:

@kirkettecosplay

Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell 

@simulacraryn

Treize and Une - Featuring @renmaxwell and @shinigami-of-excellence 

@shinigami-of-excellence

Treize Khushrenada 

Calendar Events:

Cocktail Friday

https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/

A new prompt every Monday!

Submissions should be posted Fridays between 3 and 5pm EST, and tagged with @gwcocktailfriday

Interview with a Creator by @remsyk-blog @interview-with-a-creator

Remsyk has created an online interview for fandom creators to fill out and then she features one each week so that everyone in the fandom can learn a bit about each other.

If you haven’t filled out her interview, go! do! now!

This week’s interviewee is @vegalume​ found here

[theinvulnerabletide]

Psychology edition: 7, 19, 27 for Lyra. 1, 19, 30 for Whisper. 12, 18, 29 for Oriana. 2, 21, 24 for Az’ar. 6, 14, 28 for Celadine.

Welp, this got really, really long so it is under the cut.

Oh Lyra. My precious, panicking won’t-do-anything-about-the-PTSD-she-definitely-has half-elven rogue. Someone help her. 

7.) Does your OC have any irrational phobias?

I don’t know if they’re irrationalgiven the life she’s lead? But she definitely has some fears, idk. After almostdrowning twice during that storm, I think she might have gained an acute fearof deep water or drowning, but I don’t think it’s a full-blown Thalassophobia yet.

The only thing I think is intenseenough to be called a phobia is her cleithrophobia—her fear of being trapped, and even then it’skind of specific— it’s a kind of mix of heliophobiaand agoraphobia; when the sun is bright and there are no shadows to hide in,she gets this feeling of being pinned down, like there’s nowhere to escape to,nowhere she can run. On days like that, where the sky was ceaselessly blue and the sun was high, shewould retreat inside the ship, even though she usually preferred the crow’s nest,and hide in Arannis’ library to distract herself with reading and research (upto and including stealing books to go read them in a dark corner if he objected).19.) What boosts your OC’s confidence the most?

Lyra needspraise. She likes being good at what she does (there’s nothing like the snickof a lock opening or the death rattle of enemy’s last breath), but it’s nothingif someone’s not there to tell her what a good job she did.

That comesfrom her time with the Magpies. Their praise as she learned the things theywere teaching her meant she was being accepted, meant she had a home, meantthat she was probably going to get an extra helping at dinner that night.

She putson a good show, but in truth, her confidence in herself has been flagging eversince they all died.  

27.) Does your OC practice any kindof escapism? If so, what kind?

Oh man, Lyra used to love faerietales growing up, and her mother was a great spinner of tales, and for a whileshe followed that tradition. She told herself stories of her father, who wasdefinitely a prince of some far-off country and was definitely some day goingto come for her and her mother and they’d live happily ever after in hiscastle.

Nowadays, she continues the grand traditionby imagining her friends are still alive, and thinking about what kind of heistsand cons they’d be pulling off if their patron hadn’t betrayed them.

-

Whisper! My lovely disaster tiefling sea sorceress

1.) What’s your OC’s biggest insecurity and how would theyreact if someone pointed it out to them?

I think, despite everything, it’s herappearance. Growing up, she was very aware of how different she looked fromeveryone, even her family, and even though her appearance was treated assomething that made her special and as a signifier of how important she was goingto be, it still caused her some distress.

So, when she left home, and sheexperienced mistrust, and even hostility from how she looked, that insecurityintensified. She learned how to wrap herself in illusion to avoid that scrutiny.After spending some time with the carnival she’s learned to put on a bold frontand to walk through the world like stares don’t bother her, or are even a goodthing, but a snarky comment about her horns or her tail or even her color areenough to get her to either lash out, or to sink deep into herself and fadeinto shadows.

Knowing Whisper, it is very often thelashing out. 19.) What boosts your OC’s confidencethe most?

Praise! Praise the all mighty Whisperand her arcane knowledge!

But really, as much as she preens atbeing complimented and patted on the back (like she lived for her mother’spraise back when she lived at home, and she did live in a carnival, so she grewused to applause), the bulk of Whisper’s confidence comes from being useful. Feelingneeded. If she’s useful, like, in battle then she’s doing the Magic properly,and when the time comes, she’ll be able to fulfill her purpose.

Or like when Thia came to her forhelp with social situations; Whisper was swaggering through that keep for daysafterward.

30.) What makes your OC defensive quickest.

Someone implying she might not knowsomething about magic, or that she’s not smart. Magic is her job, it flows throughher veins, how dare you say there might be something about it that she doesn’t understand.

-Oriana, my aasimar paladin and now Duchess of Dawn’s Home Keep: 

12.) What is one of the most primary things your OC thinks ismissing from their life?

Oriana is a woman of simple tastes,and as a paladin there’s not much she thinks she needs in life. That is, untilshe was saddled with this castle and its environs.

Like, she had a home. She had a jobshe loved, a job she was good at, she had a Purpose, given to her, if not fromWahreight himself, then from the Academe himself. That and the mundane needslike food were all she needed.

Now there’s so much she needs to doand defend; she needs to have the keep rebuilt and find money for that, and sheneeds to find a way to take care of all these people she suddenly has toprotect and ensure their livelihood, and she can’t do it alone, but I don’tthink there’s anyone in her life right now she would cede even a little bit ofpower to.Basically right now she feels she needs an advisor who can explain everythingto her, someone she can lean on while she does everything herself, maybesomeone she can confide her doubts in.

What she needs is a damn friend, butshe won’t talk or lean on the ones she has.

18.) What kind of intrapersonal values does your OC have?(values about their self, what makes them a valid person). Hm. Well, Oriana’s values are simple, and very oriented in the structure of hertemple. If she’s doing her job—or really, following her calling— as a warrior of light, a paladin of Wahreight and alibrarian, she is valid and useful and has value. And now being a good noble and caring for her people has been added to that.And somehow striking the balance between them.

Oh, god, she is headed for a majorbreakdown soon, isn’t she.

29.) How does your OC behave in the faceof conflict?

She tries to mediate first, ofcourse, to see if a peaceful path can be made. If it’s merely a verbalconflict, she will try and bring the two parties into compromise or tounderstanding.

If a fight is inevitable, she triesto shut it down as quickly as possible; fast and efficient and quite possiblybrutal, to mitigate any damage or pain that might be caused. She’d rather knockpeople out of she can, but she has no problem killing if need be.  

-

Azar, my neutral evil Shadar’Kai Lore Wizard who just wants to be immortal and maybe kill some gods some day. 

2.) If your OC wants to buy a firearm, what might it be for?

Insurance probably. Just in case hermagic fails, and she still needs to eliminate a threat, the same reasons she wouldhave any weapon. Or maybe she would take it apart to see how it works and thentake those principals to make some kind of awful, magical supercharged versionthat spat fireballs (or a thunder cannon, maybe take a little detour into artificer?)?

But I honestly can’t imagine her everwanting a firearm of any kind in and of itself though, she’s confident enoughthat her magic is enough to eliminate any threat she may come across, and shehas no desire to kill for the sake of killing.

21.) Does your OC hurt others intentionally? If so how?

Azar thinks most people are beneathher, so many ants next to her anteater, or whatever, but she takes no pleasurefrom causing people pain. She’s not a sadist, she’s more… apathetic.

If she ever hurts someone emotionally,it’s entirely a byproduct of her thoughtlessness. If she does it physically, it’sbecause she needs someone to experiment on, or because she was trying to putdown a threat to her or her studies. She doesn’t toy with them then, she putsthem down hard and moves on. 24.) How would your OC react if they gothumiliated in front of a group of people?

Oh geez. Az’ar is a creature of coldnessand pride, so it really depends on who they are and how she was humiliated.

Like, if she was beaten magically orintellectually, which are the only ways that matter to her, she would teleportout of there and sulk for a while; and I think that’s the only way I could eversee her plotting revenge or actually wanting to cause someone pain. She’ddissect what happened, come up with a thousand and one plans for it never tohappen again, and then go grind that person to dust.

Socially? Like if someone got a jabor an insult at her, and everyone started laughing, she would just stare, Ithink. Cock her head and stare at theperson with her too-intense purple eyes like they were an interesting specimen untilthey got freaked out and left, and everyone was more creeped out than amused.

Celandine! My brand new rock pyromaniac gnome wizard who just happens to be a freshman at Eberron High.

6.) Does your OC have a realistic image of their ownintelligence?

Well, I mean. Celandine does have a20 Int. at level 1 (18 rolled +2 for being a gnome bitches!) and she’s beenmoved up two grades because she wasn’t being challenged enough in class.

That said, everyone—middle schoolteachers, and her parents– acting as if she’s an infallible genius may have inflatedher sense of self a bit. Like, I wasn’t exaggerating when she assumes she’sright at least 95% of the time. She also thinks she can do magic and handle substancesshe is probably not equipped to handle yet. I can 100% see her trying to attempta 2nd level or 3rd level spell at level 1 and knockingherself out for a few days after channeling her power her body wasn’t readyfor. 14.) If your OC gets into a fight withtheir best friend, would they wait for their friend to make up with them, orwould they try to make up with their friend?

Oh gosh. I think her pride would makeher try and act aloof for a little while, and she’d try and wait until herfriend came to apologize to her first.

But Celandine doesn’t have manyfriends. And she’d get lonely really quickly. I think after an hour or two, she’dbe at their door, her big eyes shimmering with tears, to apologize. 28.) How would your OC react if a bully stoletheir lunch money in high school?Celandine’s parents are merchants, and more or less devout followers of KolKorran, so money and trade are literally holy for them. What’s more, her focusis a lucky coin.

With that in mind, anyone trying to take money from her would definitely geta firebolt to the face. Or a witchbolt, depending on how pissed off she is.

Oh man I love them all so much. :3

[kayawagner]

Pathfinder Playtest Review, Part 2

This is part 2 of my review of the Pathfinder Playtest from Paizo. You can see part 1 here where I cover the first three sections of the book (Overview through Classes). In this part of the review, I’ll comment on the next four sections (Skills through Spells). The next review should cover Advancement and Options, and Playing the Game, which will be a big chunk of the review process since this is the “meat” of the game. Lastly, I’ll finish up with Game Mastering through Appendices.

If you’re interested in reading along with me during the review, you can pick up the free PDF of the playtest rulebook at Paizo’s site:

One note that I forgot to drop into my first review is that I’m making notes as I go through a section, then I do my best to accurately expand on those notes “in media res,” so that I’m giving an accurate depiction of my thoughts as they come to me as I read the text. Certainly, there will be some things that pop up later in the book that may change my mind, but I wanted to be clear that this is not a “I’ve read the whole book and am now making comments.”

Skills

 A new concept for Pathfinder is the use of skills in untrained and trained manners. 

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A new concept for Pathfinder is the use of skills in untrained and trained manners. There are some actions a character can take even without being trained in a skills, but the more potent or advanced uses of a skill are reserved for those with training. This is pretty cool. I like this change in the game. In the playtest book, the list of untrained uses feels a little longer than the trained uses do. Perhaps this will be adjusted in the final product. I really hope to see the trained uses for the skills expanded upon.

While the list is shorter in this edition, I’m not going to go into each skill. I’m just going to comment on some of the larger changes. I do like the shorter list of skills, though. They feel more focused and on target for what a modern roleplaying game should be. Having said that, I think each skill needs more actions (more on this later when we get to feats) to make them worthwhile to the game.

Identifying Items/Effects

 I’ve always felt it was too easy in Pathfinder to identify items. 

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Something I find interesting is that identifying magic items or magical effects is now a skill check without needing the spells of “detect magic” or “identify.” This takes a full hour per item/effect. I like this change for several reasons. First, I’ve always felt it was too easy in Pathfinder to identify items. In the “old school” versions of D&D, it was exceedingly difficult to identify items. I think this approach strikes a fine balance. Secondly, this skill-based approach aligns more closely with what we read in fantasy literature, which is all about the storytelling. This brings some storytelling back into the game. While I’m on this topic, I also noticed that there are several skills that can be leveraged for identifying magic. These are arcane, nature, occultism, and religion. It’s pretty neat that they applied this use to all of these areas.

Aside: Read Magic

The ability to read magical (or occult or holy) texts is now skill-based. As a matter of fact, the spell “read magic” is no longer in the book. It just takes some time, effort, skill, and a decent die roll to interpret magical writings. Like with identifying magic items/effects, I like this change quite a bit because it more closely aligns our collaborative storytelling efforts with what we read in fantasy novels.

CMB/CMD/Attack Actions

I hadn’t noticed that CMB and CMD weren’t part of the character sheet or character generation process until I got to the athletics skill. Some of the uses of the skill allow for tripping, grappling, shoving, etc. However, instead of the CMB/CMD combination, Paizo has streamlined these actions even more! I’m impressed that they’ve managed to pull this off. Now, it’s a skill check against a saving throw (usually Fortitude or Reflex) to see if the action has the desired effect.

Downtime Skills

 This turns downtimes into more fun roleplaying instead of the less fun rollplaying. 

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Crafting, lore, and perform can be used between exploring and adventuring to earn some coin for the characters. The subsystem for earning these coins is consistent, easy to implement, and quick to resolve. By moving some of the crunchy bits into a simpler system, there can be more focus on what goes on with the characters during downtime other than doing the necessary math to figure out how much income someone earns. This turns downtimes into more fun roleplaying instead of the less fun rollplaying.

Lore

It appears that the lore skill is now the combination of knowledge and profession skills from the previous edition. I like this simplification because it helps players pick skills in a faster manner, reduces confusion in the game, and allows for a greater breadth of skill choices to be made. I’m not sure how many times I’ve been asked something along the lines of, “What is profession? What do I use it for? How it is different from craft or knowledge?” Dropping these two skills together under a single entity is a boon.

Society

This skill feels misnamed. I like the actions and activities under it. They make sense. However, this is more of a “streetwise” skill than a “society” skill. Paizo should consider renaming the skill to streetwise.

Feats

(Author note: I’m using “feat” here even though I like the word “talent” better because I think that’s what Paizo has turned them into for this version of Pathfinder. I’ll stick with Paizo’s naming convention to avoid confusion.)

 Of the skill-based feats, there are some pretty cool ones in here. 

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Remember how I said above under the “Skills” header that I wanted more uses for the skills to make them worthwhile? Yeah. I take that back. Now that I’m in the feats section, I see that a vast majority of the feats (all but 20) are there to give skills more oomph. Now I see why characters get so many feats at character creation and as they level up. I was truly concerned that a 1st level character would have a chain of feats that would overpower them out of the gate. It doesn’t appear to be the case.

Again, I’m not going to go into each feat in detail. There just isn’t enough room in a single article to do so. I’ll just say here that there are some really cool feats that allow for both player and GM interactions with the characters’ skills that can drive a story forward (or sideways) in an excellent story-driven manner. It feels to me, as I read through the feats, that Paizo is taking on a bit more “fluff” into their rules and a little less “crunch.” What I mean by this is that Paizo seems to be taking on less of a “tactical simulation of combat” feel that has put some people off and shifting their balance a little toward the story side of things. Don’t get me wrong, Pathfinder still has those crunchy bits for when combat arrives, but that’s not all there is to this game.

Of the 20 “general feats,” only one requires a level higher than first. This gives quite a few options for starting characters, but I’d like to see the list expanded in the final book. While reading through the feats, my gut tells me there is room for growth of options there, but I can’t quite pin down what’s missing. A more thorough analysis than a read-through would probably reveal this to me.

Of the skill-based feats, there are some pretty cool ones in here, and there are quite a few options to customize and make characters special in their own way. No two masters of a single skill will look the same or use that particular skill the same. This intrigues me and piques my interest quite a bit. A friend of mine complained about the number of feats as “too many options,” but I don’t think there’s quite enough here to cause analysis paralysis, to be honest. It’s a good set to work with, and I can see the list being expanded in the final release or in expansion books.

Equipment

Equipment is equipment, right? Well, there are some subtle changes to how equipment is acquired and handled in game that need to be illuminated. Again, I’m not going to go into each bit of armor, each weapon, each piece of gear, etc. here. I’m going to talk about the rules exposed in this section.

Rarity

Items now have a “rarity” attribute. These start with common and range through uncommon to rare and finally land at unique. A color code is used to denote the rarity when an item is listed, which I’m not a big fan of. A single letter (C, U, R, X) inside parentheses after the item name would suffice. There are also folks that are color blind out there, so the red (uncommon) or blue (unique) item listing may be problematic for them. It’s best to stick with black (or dark hued inks) on white (or pale hues) for text, Paizo. I hope someone on the development team sees this and perks up a bit. Also, either I missed uncommon/rare items in the equipment lists, or they’re not present in the playtest book. I couldn’t find anything in the regular equipment other than black text (common items). Having said all this, I do like the potential I see in the rarity of items.

Item Level

When I saw this, I panicked. I thought Paizo was going the way of MMORPGs and stating that characters couldn’t have or use certain items until they were of a certain level. Fortunately, this is not the case. The “item level” listing is a guideline for GMs, so they don’t accidentally hand out something as treasure that might unbalance the game.

Bulk

Instead of weight and strength determining a weight limit for encumbrance or not, Paizo abstracted things away to a degree. Now items have a “bulk” listing, which determines how much stuff a character can carry before slowing down or being forced to drop something. The system looks straightforward and simple enough that I might start using encumbrance again. (I currently “hand wave” encumbrance for my players in Pathfinder, so long as they don’t get crazy with it.) There’s even a page (along with some handy tables) dealing with items made for a creature of different size. It’s pretty easy to figure out the bulk of a small creature trying to use or carry something intended for a large creature.

Item Quality

Items have “levels” like characters skills do. They can be normal, expert, master, or legendary in make. This isn’t even counting the magical weapons. This is a cool expansion on the “masterwork” concept that’s been around since D&D 3.0. The hardness, cost, and bonuses of the item go up as the quality increases. This new feature in the system can be leveraged in “low magic” settings where most sword aren’t be magical, but legendary weapon crafters can produce high quality swords that are +3 without magic. This spawned quite a few setting ideas for me. I really love this shift and addition to the game. Oh, before I forget, there are rules for items of “poor” quality as well. This is an excellent addition for settings like Dark Sun.

Spells

This article is already getting a little long in the tooth, so I’ll try to make this as brief as possible while giving spells the attention they deserve. Like with the other sections, I’m not going to delve into each spell.

Heightened Spells

A caster can choose to prepare a spell at higher spell slots to increase the effects of the spell. Not all spells can be heightened, but many can. The example in the book is that a fireball (3rd level) will do 6d6 damage. If you heighten the spell (by putting in a 4th level slot), it will do 8d6 damage instead. This system provides for greater flexibility in how prepared spellcasters do their thing and plan for the day. It’s subtle, but effective, and I like it. There are also rules for the spontaneous casters to be able to do the same thing, but the rules are subtly different.

Spell Schools and Traits

The typical spell schools we’ve all grown to love and adore are still present in the game. The various spell traits that exist within the Pathfinder playtest book are also outlined and clearly explained. The list of traits is a bit short, though, as I found some spells without explained traits. However, the “good” trait is pretty clear, but it would be best to explain them all for those who are new to Pathfinder or roleplaying.

Rarity of Spells

In the equipment section, I talked about the different rarity of items. A similar system of common, uncommon, and rare exists within the spell lists. Players are restricted from automatically choosing uncommon and rare spells without the GM’s permission. One thing of note here is that Paizo uses a superscript of U or R for uncommon and rare spells instead of the strange color-coding mentioned in the equipment section. I hope that Paizo finds a proper superscript for “Unique” equipment as well and applies the superscript (or some other symbology) to use to alleviate the color blindness issue that some players may have.

Actions in Spellcasting

 Each part of casting a spell (material, somatic, and verbal) takes an action. 

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As I mentioned in the first part of this review, each PC gets 3 actions per round. I found an interesting quirk here in the spellcasting section. Each part of casting a spell (material, somatic, and verbal) takes an action. This means that a spell with all three components to cast will consume all three actions of the caster during that round. Something with only somatic and verbal will take two of the three actions, and so on. I had stop and ponder the implications of this for a bit. I can see the game balancing effects of this approach. However, I had to flip the very last page of the book (where the spell sheet is at) and look at it. Having a variable number of actions for different spells requires the proper bookkeeping, memorization, or stopping the game to look things up to figure out how many actions a particular spell consumes. The spell sheet does have an “actions” section with three blanks in it for each spell. This will assist in keeping the game running smoothly if players do the right thing and fill out the sheet with all details as they acquire new spells.

Spell Details

While I’m not going to dig through each spell in the book, I wanted to point out that powers gained from various ancestries, classes, feats, backgrounds, etc. that are spell-like in nature are comingled in the alphabetical list of spells. This can easily lead to confusion because the section is clearly labeled “Spells” in the tabs on the right edge of the page. I would recommend that Paizo take the “Spells” label and change it to “Spells and Powers,” so players new to the game can easily track down the specific section of the book they need to find the details about all of the supernatural things their characters can do.

Also, in the spell details section, Paizo falls back to a colored background for the rarity of spells to indicate uncommon and rare. Again, I’m not a fan of this because it requires rote memorization (or a spot in the GM screen) to translate the rarity of a spell from color to meaning. Sorry to harp on this poor decision by Paizo, but it’s really gotten to me. I’ll step away from the soapbox on this topic.

Conclusion, For Now

Coming into reviewing the Pathfinder playtest, I was hesitant to even pick up the book, but I wanted to give the game a fair shake. So far, I’m liking what I’m seeing. Yes, there are limited choices within the book, but it’s also a “slim” book (for a core Paizo book, at least) at only 428 pages. Compare that against the current edition’s core book size of 575 pages, there’s ample room to expand and grow and improve.

So far, I think I would play this game as a replacement for the current Pathfinder. However, as the saying goes, “The proof’s in the pudding.” So far, I’ve been reading about the “ingredients” of the overall recipe. The next few segments of the book will be telling on how good the actual pudding is going to be.

I’ll roll this part of the review to a close, so I can get to how to mix the ingredients together and make the pudding. You’ll be seeing section 3 of the review here in about two weeks if all goes according to plan. See ya then!

Pathfinder Playtest Review, Part 2 published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

[nerdarchy-blog]

Out of the Box introduction

I have been remiss in one aspect. I have failed to reveal a villain that has played a role in some of the homebrewed creatures featured in the Out of the Box series. This villain has been mentioned in The Broker, and will be featured in re-writes of The Passenger, Smells Fishy and others. The reasoning for this is clear, and it’s something that happens at more than my table.

Starring Jim Davis! No, not that Jim Davis from Web DM. Actor Jim Davis played Dr. Quent Brady in this 1957 science fiction movie.

  Dungeon Masters everywhere often stress about creating the right mastermind. There can be any number of reasons for this. Perhaps one or more villains have been used too many times, or the players are experienced and want something new. Perhaps the DM wishes to strike the right mood or tempo for a storyline, or perhaps they seek to have something unique at their table that a simple re-skin will not accomplish.

All of these can be valid concerns. Out of the Box Encounters has featured several new monsters thus far, but most have been of the minion-level variety, random thugs or wild creatures. One has been more of a lieutenant. None has been a master.

Let’s change that.

This encounter will introduce a new monster, the Vespidroi, or hive lord. Vespidroi can be a daunting foe, with possible lethal repercussions after a battle, whether it wins or loses. But what is a master without a master plan? This, too, can be something of an issue for DMs struggling with writer’s block. Therefore, we will start with something that appears simple, but holds deep insectoid horror within.

The plan will look superficial, but will have long reaching implications. It will be easy to understand, but impossible to immediately know how far it goes. This will have the effect of creating doubt and paranoia with the right delivery. And that’s the key — delivered to the right group of players, the DM could create an immediate sense of urgency.

Environment

Wilderness/rocky mountainous pass or canyon

Level

7-8

Monsters

Vespidroi (hive lord) — 1 Hive lord grub — 1-7

Treasure

The hive lord wears fine robes worth 50 gp, and carries an arcane focus — a black staff taken from a traveler (but not needed for its psionics), 25 gp, trade goods worth 100 gp worth, but heavy, weighing 100 pounds). The wagon is intact and worth 200 gp. What the hive lord did not know is the staff has a secret compartment in it, accessible by screwing off the top. Characters who succeed on a DC 17 Intelligence (Investigation) check will find a scroll of greater restoration hidden inside.

Description

Insectoid monsters are just straight up creepy and terrifying, like the ankheg as seen in the fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons Monster Manual. [Image courtesy Wizards of the Coast]

The path twists ahead through rock and around steep ledges. It seems a wonder why any take this path at all sometimes. Yet, it is the most direct route through this area of the badlands. Steep walls of orange-brown mark either side of this roadway. It was once a popular place for banditry in the past before the rise of law and civilization, but even that has taken its toll. More than once the party has had to try to squeeze past carts or wagons either coming the other way or in a rush to get around slower travelers ahead. Time waits for no one, you guess.

But fellow travelers on this path have been few and far between of late. Rumors have persisted of the pass being haunted. Some have whispered that entire coaches of people have gone missing, sometimes even the beasts of burden. Yet patrols have found no trace of giants, ogres, or even gnolls in the area; the typical villains for this sort of behavior.

The demand for goods and the need to pay the bills have yet driven the desperate to take this pass, and you are no different. But as you start to make it past the next bend, a wagon blocks your path. Diagonal in the road with what looks like the remains of a horse in front of it, it fully impedes this 15 ft. wide pass through high walls of stone and earth.

The terrain here is unforgiving, but not impossible to deal with. The path itself is indeed 15 feet wide, and the walls are of a textured sandstone and clay. They aren’t sheer, but they are pretty close to it, and go 45 feet straight up for 100 feet in front of and behind the wagon. Climbing them will require a successful DC 15 Strength (Athletics) check at the start of each turn. Those who fail will fall from the distance at which they failed. Those who fail just at the outset of the climb will obviously not fall, but will simply not proceed upward (or sideways, if so inclined).

Those what wish to check the wagon or the horse will find the wagon itself is 5 ft. wide and 10 ft. long with low walls on the sides and front. It has a 4 ft. tall hooped frame covered with a canvas tarp for a roof. It is, in essence, a typical covered wagon. The back is covered with a closed canvas flap. It looks, just at the outset, very much intact from the outside, apart from the dead horse lashed to the front of it. The driver’s bench is unoccupied.

The horse itself has a large open wound in its stomach, and its entrails have spilled out. The smell is awful. At the DM’s discretion, you may require a successful DC 10 Constitution saving throw to not wretch for a turn from the smell for those standing next to the horse. Those wishing to inspect the horse who succeed on a DC 10 Intelligence (Investigation) or Wisdom (Medicine) check will discover a large puncture wound on the back of the horse. If the Medicine check succeeds by 5 or more, a character will determine the puncture wound had some sort of poison or other toxic agent involved. A Medicine check that succeeds by 10 or more reveals the wound on the bottom of the horse is explosive and not implosive. In other words, the wound originated from within, and was not a result of being slashed, bludgeoned or pierced from outside.

For those wishing to investigate the wagon, a successful DC 10 Intelligence (Investigation) or Wisdom (Perception) check reveals the driver’s bench has no sign of struggle, and no blood stains. Further investigation will reveal the same on the outside of the tarp of the wagon. To gather more information, characters can investigate within the wagon. Should they listen for anything inside the wagon while standing outside, with a successful DC 15 Wisdom (Perception) check a character detects the faint sound of scratching within. Inside the wagon’s 5 ft. x 10 ft. x 4 ft. high space, there are an assortment of barrels and sacks pushed to the front of the wagon, with what look like rolled bedrolls scattered about. The moment anyone enters the wagon, the hive lord grub hiding in the sacks attacks. It looks like an orange and black striped pill bug with large black multifaceted eyes, four clawed legs and a long black stinger at the end of its abdomen.

Given that the grub is alone and the characters are of a much higher level, this should be a very quick fight. When the hive lord grub dies, characters within 120 ft. of the wagon will hear the following message telepathically.

“How dare you strike my children! Worms! Now you shall be reborn in pain into a perfect form.”

The vespirdroi will rise over the ridge to the right of the cart at a height of 60 feet above the wagon. It appears as a wasp-like humanoid with a chitin covered, segmented body and large black unblinking multifaceted eyes. Its black and orange striped body is held aloft with two large insect wings and is adorned in wizard or priest-like raiments covered in mystic runes. It holds a black staff in its two arms. It has two main goals on its agenda. Either Egg Sting everyone to generate more young, or kill those who resist. It will use every ability it has to do this, even if that means convincing the characters to climb up the ridge to its hidden nest above to either be implanted or feed its young.

It’s opening attack will be to cast enthrall on each character it can see. If it succeeds in charming everyone it sees, on its next turn it will convince whoever appears to be the biggest threat, or the most heavily armored to begin climbing the ridge. This will serve two purposes. It intends to implant eggs in every victim. If the charmed targets break the spell, it can then choose to attack those still climbing to make them fall. It can also just enthrall again as needed. If the vast majority of characters resist the enthrall, it will drop to 30 feet and use its Sonic Stunner ability. Stunned characters will be attacked with the Egg Sting ability.

If one character resists on a regular basis, it might use suggestion to convince that character it was merely trying to protect its children, and that the character should really help it rebuild its nest after travelers attacked it. If a character seems resistant or continues to save versus its psionic barrages, it will simply try to kill it, with or without the Egg Sting.

If any character climbs the ridge before or after the attack begins, or scouts above via spells or abilities, they will discover an indentation approximately 20 feet in diameter filled with what looks like a strange daisy-shaped tent. It has a central 3 ft. diameter hole in the centre, with six 2 ft. wide and 7 ft. long capsule-like “pedals” around it. Each pedal has a small entrance onto the central opening. The structure has a similar color to the orange-black soil around it. Should anyone touch it, it will have a rough texture like hand-made paper, and will be about as firm as cardboard. The entire area will have a strange smell like a mixture of rotting meat and nectar.

This is the vespirdroi’s birthing chamber. Each pedal is actually a cocoon that holds the dead body of a human traveler from the wagon below. The chamber has an AC 12, and vulnerability to fire damage. It takes only 10 damage to open a chamber, and inside they will find a human corpse. If the bodies are not destroyed by fire or acid, they will each birth a new hive lord grub in 24 hours, which will each wander off to start new hives of their own.

If the hive lord is successful in implanting a character, and that character is dropped to 0 hit points, it will be laid down here as a new petal and the vespirdroi will use a mixture of soil, chewed plant matter and saliva to build a new petal around their body until the new grub is born.

Complications

The single greatest complication is the risk of being implanted with a hive lord egg via the Egg Sting attack. Worse yet is not knowing such as occurred and the character has survived the conflict…with a grub growing inside them. If a character has such a condition, and you do not wish to surprise them with it, mention chest or intestinal pain, a problem with breathing, and constant nausea.

Perhaps viewing movies from a franchise where alien creatures burst forth from living hosts would give you an idea of what they might experience. It is truly horrific, and not a heroic death. Such is the nature of those who deal with beings from the Far Realm. Consider this first before treading into this territory. If your table would be averse to this sort of fate or are sensitive to such things, perhaps a different encounter might be best.

Vespidroi (hive lord)

A thri-kreen as seen in the fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons Monster Manual. [Image courtesy Wizards of the Coast]

Proud and ruthless. Hailing from distant realms, vespidroi, or hive lords, seek dominance and control over everything they see. Their hunger for prey and breeding stock have driven them from world to world looking to implant fresh hive lords upon them to conspire for control.

These upright wasp-like humanoid figures are intelligent and conniving, though that is hard to recognize when looking at their unblinking, large, black, multi-faceted eyes and chitinous faces. Adults have four small arms to manipulate the world around them, and two long legs upon which they walk about. Their bodies are covered in smooth chitin, and varies in color depending upon the hive from which they originate. Many are yellow and black, but orange and black, blue and black, or bright green and black are not unheard of. Regardless of the color of their exoskeleton, they have two long, diaphanous wings with which they can fly about, often a shade of the color of their exoskeletons.

Hive lords are proud and vain, and will always seek to remain clean and well groomed. They will garb themselves in fine silks woven from the gossamer of arachnid prey, fine jewelry, and other finery when every they can.

Hidden speech. Vespirdroi communicate when necessary with outsiders through telepathy, but when among their own kind they also use pheromones to convey ideas, emotions, and plans. This form of communication is silent and invisible, and only faintly detectable those to most sensitive noses with a successful DC 20 Wisdom (Perception) check to detect a faint floral scent.

Warring for control. Vespirdroi do not suffer rivals in their territory. They despise all arachnids and their spawn. However, above all else, hive lords will seek out any thri-kreen in their territory. The hatred between these two species runs deep, and neither is divulging its origin. Furthermore, vespirdroi will seek to subjugate any coh leop hives within their domain. These insect humanoid species are readily compliant to their hive lord pheromones, and the hive lords are not above using them as instant slave labor and front line troops. Hive lords will slay coh leop queens who do not comply with vespirdroi rulership, and may simply kill queens as an example to keep the lower coh leop in line.

Distant parents. Vespidroi do not remain behind to care for any hive lord grubs. Each offspring seems born with all the evil intent and ruthlessness required to succeed in their genre, and grubs tend to mature quickly if not discovered and slain. This leaves the young to carve out their own domain, spreading hive lord influence to new territory.

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In this #OutOfTheBox #DnD encounter will you be powerless against the marauding unknown monster that crushes all before it? Out of the Box introduction I have been remiss in one aspect. I have failed to reveal a villain that has played a role in some of the homebrewed creatures featured in the Out of the Box series.