#mendevian crusades

[honourablejester]

I was going to say, I haven’t played either the AP or the CRPG, but just going by the lore, the Mendevian Crusades haven’t exactly been portrayed as uncomplicatedly good and virtuous.

The first crusade was launched nearly 20 years late, after all of Sarkoris, the country they’re theoretically trying to save, as well as a good chunk of neighbouring Mendev, was already overrun, owing to the continent-wide social upheaval following the same death of a god that caused the demonic invasion to happen in the first place. Said first crusade was at least partially organised as a proving ground for the two churches most badly affected by said god’s death, to prove their continuing relevance/new importance in the vacuum, and was supported by several nations who were neck deep in their own civil wars/independence movements at least partially as a way to handily dispose of their own bad apples/inconvenient mercenary forces as their internal situations devolved. While there were a lot of people who joined the crusade out of a genuine desire to save the people affected and stop the demonic incursion, on a political level, it was a significantly more cynical effort. And, you know. Also necessary, on account of the demon army that is in fact invading the world.

The second crusade resulted from the crusaders of the initial crusade being suckered by the demons, thinking them rampaging brutes attacking without reason, and failing to realise that they were a fully functional intelligent enemy deliberately acting that way to dupe them. As a result, the second crusade was basically a loss, with the end result that the crusaders just fully wrote off the nation of Sarkoris as unsalvageable and sealed the demons inside its boundaries.

The third crusade resulted from the demons trying more subtle infiltration tactics once the magical wards of the second crusade went up, meaning that this was the crusade that within three years completely devolved into witch hunts and paranoia, a lot of it pointed at the Sarkorian people themselves, who you may have noticed have been shat on at basically every single stage of this endeavour. The Mendevian government had to essentially just shut that crusade down as it was doing more harm than good.

The fourth crusade, more than 20 years later, resulted from a new demon leader managing to punch a hole in the ward wall and start invading again. This lead to a 15-year-long slugfest that basically exhausted all resources on both sides. It also saw a whole new organisation within the crusader forces called the Order of Heralds who were there to basically function as the crusade’s internal affairs agency to try and stop it fully devolving into hate crimes and witch hunts the way the previous crusade had done. Because they realised they needed that.

By the time we get to the fifth crusade, the one featured in the AP/CRPG, this slugfest has been going on for literally a hundred years, Sarkoris as a nation has been essentially obliterated, most of Mendev’s government is reliant on a foreign military hierarchy to function, and the crusader forces themselves have been such a mixed bag of zealots, opportunists and genuinely good people for five crusades now that they’ve developed an internal police force to try to curb the worst of the excesses.

And, the thing is, the crusade, or at least some form of defending force, has been necessary. As OP says, the demons are genuinely invading. They are infiltrating surrounding nations and crusader forces, they are trying to conquer, infiltrate and suborn everything around them. Crusaders and inquisitors are genuinely necessary. But excesses happen, and witch hunts happen, and zealotry gets pointed in the wrong place, at the people who have been most victimised in the whole mess. But that’s not a confused narrative. It’s entirely consistent, because the crusades have been this way from the start. They are necessary, yes, but that has, from the first, never prevented them from being taken advantage of by governments, zealots, opportunists, and general bad actors. Nothing at this scale can be. That’s a coherent narrative.

The fight may be necessary, it may have a moral core of repelling brutal and otherworldly invaders, but that doesn’t make the fight pure. It’s a massed endeavour on a logistical, political and religious scale, involving thousands upon thousands of people, from all over a continent, and all that combines to make it a mess of personal, political, military, religious and organisational goals, with people involved ranging from shining paladins determined to do right to brutal warlords who would compare favourably to the demons themselves on their best day (and sometimes those are the same person). The demons may have been variously contained, beaten back, and eventually triumphed over, but it has come at the cost of more than a century of continuous warfare, internal purges, and pretty much the outright destruction of one nation and the complete military occupation of another.

There is a thing in fantasy … The alignment system, hard-coded morality, I do get it, I have so many issues with the alignment system myself. The demons being an inherently evil force that it is inherently morally correct to fight and kill is an issue, especially in light of the genocidal and colonial roots of the real world crusades and their religious justification. But there’s also …

If we are positing a world where the demons are real. Where the gods are real. Where a literal extraplanar army is invading. Where that is a concrete, factual threat, requiring no religious mummery to manufacture. Yes, question the motives of setting up the fictional universe that way, but once you’re there. And there are reasons to go there. There is a romance to the image of a knight, there is a reason people want to play paladins, and once the real world origins and issues with that image are acknowledged … sometimes you want to play a hero fighting something evil.

But for all that, Pathfinder still did attempt to show at least some of the moral and political complexity of that kind of endeavour. The Mendevian crusades aren’t a pure and holy endeavour, they’re a complicated moral and political mess that has embroiled half a continent in zealotry and warfare for a full century now, and for large chunks of it, the demons were only half of anyone’s problems. Cheliax is one of the supporter nations for the crusades. And while Cheliax wasn’t an openly Satan-worshipping nation for the first crusade, it certainly was by the fifth.

There’s also the little detail that the second crusade was a result of the crusaders completely failing to realise that the demons were more than just rampaging brutes and were actually intelligent beings, fully capable of strategically out-thinking them, which resulted in a lot of them just going home after the first crusade, leaving a full nation to have to be sacrificed later on. So even if they are portrayed as evil, the demons do still get a lot more out-of-universe credit for interiority and intelligence than the in-universe crusaders gave them.

I don’t like the alignment-based worldbuilding that both Pathfinder and D&D have going on (though all credit to Paizo for working on it during the remaster). The morally hard-coded planar cosmology itches at me. But there is, to be fair to them, a lot more going on in this particular instance than ‘crusades good’, you know?

kind of concerning how married the fantasy genre is to "crusades as a basically good thing"

[dragonologist-writings]

Title: Love & War Fandom: Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous Rating: M Status: Complete (19/19) Main Characters: Knight-Commander Cleo Ironbark, Queen Galfrey Supporting Characters: Yozz, Arueshalae, Woljif, Wenduag, Ember, Irahai, Nocticula, Hand of the Inheritor Ships: Knight-Commander/Queen Galfrey Additional Notes: Complicated Relationships, Angst, Rivals to Enemies to Lovers, Demon to Legend Mythic Path, Canon-Typical Themes, Minor Character Death Word Count: 72.8k Summary:

Galfrey was a queen, a paladin, an icon for all that was righteous and just in the Crusades. Cleo was a barbarian, a tiefling, a personification of demonic chaos. By all rights and logic, the two should have been at each other's throats- and often, they were. But somehow, through war and struggle and sacrifice, they ended up finding more in each other than either ever expected.

read here on ao3

Chaper 1 Below:

The first impression Queen Galfrey of Mendev formed of Cleo, warrior of the Ironbark tribe, was not a kind one.

To be completely fair, the Queen’s opinion was not wholly condemning, either. It was quite impossible for Galfrey to condemn the woman who had pulled Kenabres from the burning jaws of the demons. Every report given to the Queen repeated the same story: Cleo of Ironbark had bravely led the charge against the evil cultists and demons who threatened the city. Cleo of Ironbark had stormed the Grey Garrison and saved them all from the poison of the corrupted Wardstone. Cleo of Ironbark was a hero.

But Cleo of Ironbark was also…raucous.

“Another round!” the warrior cried, holding her tankard aloft, and the celebrating soldiers cheered along with her. The tankard was refilled without a moment’s hesitation, and after taking a long drink, Kenabres’s champion resumed her dramatic recounting of the day’s battle. Her voice carried across the tavern, rising above the din of the crowd and filling the large room with echoes of her bravado. Irabeth and Anevia sat at her side, listening to the tale with fond weariness and open amusement, respectively.

Galfrey kept to the corner of the tavern, holding her tongue and a humble mug of ale as she watched the theatrics unfold. Her retinue was waiting outside; she’d ordered them to give her fifteen minutes of peace before following her in. The guards were always so touchy about letting her out of their sight, as if she couldn’t handle herself perfectly well.

The Queen sighed at herself. That was unfair; they were merely doing their job. Under normal circumstances, she would have been content to let them do so. But a procession of guards was something that tended to be noticed, and in this instance, she’d wished to make her observations from a place of relative anonymity. She’d feared she might be noticed anyhow, but no; the people’s attention was centered solely on the sword-bearing storyteller who had already nearly drained her third serving of ale. This could only be the famous Cleo- who else would be drawing such adulation from the victorious crusaders?

Yet, she was not quite what Galfrey had expected.

For starters, Cleo was clearly not of Kenabres. Not a fact all that odd on its own, perhaps, but she was no ordinary traveler, either. She wore the furs and leather armor of the northern barbarians, and when she called out to the crowds, a Kellid accent made itself clear in her words. As if a lone tribeswoman in the middle of a Mendevian city wasn’t odd enough, the people’s new hero was also a tiefling. With skin of deep green and small horns that poked through her dark, close-shorn hair, her abyssal heritage was impossible to miss.

Even so, the notoriously suspicious Mendevians around her watched with high-spirited adulation as she spoke, her tail lashing enthusiastically behind her all the while.

“-and then,” she was saying, “just when we all thought we were well and truly fucked, I charged for the Wardstone. Minagho tried to stop me, but it was too late for her- I had my blade in my hands, and I took the biggest swing of my life, and with just one strike I shattered that corrupted chunk of stone!”

She mimed the motion of her attack, and the crowds shouted their appreciation. Their cheers brought a cocky grin to Cleo’s lips, revealing sharp-tipped teeth.

“And of course once that was taken care of, Minagho didn’t stand a chance. Shame she’s so good at running away, but there’s plenty other demons out there to slay!”

This declaration brought another round of victorious shouts, but Galfrey remained reticent. The scene so far had only served to cement her final impression of Cleo of Ironbark: that she was in possession of a concerning degree of reckless arrogance. Cleo spoke loudly and cursed often; she lauded her own daring exploits; she relished in stretching out her arms to display the scars lining her well-toned muscles to her crowd of admirers.

Galfrey was hardly unaccustomed to such personality. The thrill of victory could go to any soldier’s head, especially when aided by ale and applause. But she had been hoping for something more substantial from the savior of the city, and to find behavior which bordered upon unseemly was…disappointing.

Across the room, Cleo let out a loud laugh and leapt to her feet, very nearly tripping over her chair in the process. She teetered over Anevia, leaned down, and- inexplicably- blew a kiss onto the small charm in Anevia’s hands. They both laughed again at the action, even as Irabeth swatted at her wife’s shoulder in half-hearted chastisement.

In spite of herself, Galfrey felt her lips pull reluctantly into a smile. Her judgments were harsh; revelry could certainly be permitted in times like this. This was a celebration, after all, and here she was sulking in the corner and thinking dour thoughts. It must be the endless war meetings taking their toll, fixing her into this permanently somber state. After so many decades, it was growing increasingly difficult to escape such a mindset, especially when she’d spent the majority of the march to Kenabres half-expecting to find nothing but a funeral pyre.

Instead, she’d found a city in the throes of exhilarating victory. Such a state was infinitely preferable, and the leader who’d made it possible had more than earned herself a carefree night.

With that thought in mind, Galfrey threw back a swig of ale and strode forward to join her subjects at their table. Her fifteen minutes of peace were almost up, and it was time to make her presence known. Better to make a jovial introduction, she decided, rather than be a weight upon the soldiers’ high spirits.

The reactions her reveal garnered were much what Galfrey expected: Irabeth snapped to immediate attention, the nearby soldiers backed away to a respectful distance, and even Anevia straightened her posture and pushed her drink away.

But not Cleo. Cleo just watched, dark eyes giving away nothing as she granted the Queen a lazy smile. “Have I had too much to drink, or are you really who I think you are?”

“That depends a good deal on who you think I am, doesn’t it?” Galfrey countered evenly. She kept her voice lighthearted, welcoming, and held out her hand in a simple greeting. “Galfrey, of Mendev.”

Cleo regarded the offered gesture for a moment, her gaze sliding from Galfrey’s hand to meet her eyes. The edges of her smile grew more pronounced. “I see the rumors were not exaggerated. Pleasure to make your royal acquaintance.” Without breaking her stare, Cleo wrapped her calloused fingers around Galfrey’s, and she brought Galfrey’s hand to her lips.

The kiss she laid on Galfrey’s skin was short, but her eyes stayed fixed on the Queen- testing her, Galfrey realized. Pressing to see how quickly Galfrey would pull away.

Indignation surged through Galfrey’s veins, but she had decades of practice in disguising her annoyances.  She did not pull away, nor did she flinch under that taunting gaze; she waited until Cleo’s touch retreated, and only then did she withdraw her hand.

“Thank you for the compliment,” she said stiffly, and Cleo chuckled.

“Didn’t say what the rumors were, did I? But you are quite welcome, your royal highness. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

The words were simply dripping with mockery, and Galfrey almost changed her mind right then and there. The mission she’d meant to bequeath upon the hero of Kenabres required some modicum of respect and discipline, and she could just as easily enlist any of her current generals who actually displayed those qualities.

Except…none of those generals, in all their years of service, had accomplished anything like the feat this woman already performed. If even half of what Cleo claimed was true, she should be dead ten times over. That meant that this woman was either a braggart lying through her teeth…or she truly possessed the type of power the Crusades so desperately needed.

It was a risk, to gamble on the latter option in such a way. But the war had been locked in a stalemate for far too long. Perhaps a certain amount of risk was warranted.

And besides, Galfrey reminded herself, Cleo was currently deep in her cups. In all likelihood, she would wake in the morning somewhat sheepish and ready to approach their arrangement with a bit more propriety.

“The Queen graces me with her presence, I see.”

Galfrey stifled a sigh as she entered the Cleo’s tent. Outside, troops bustled in preparation for the march to Drezen, their shouts and orders mingling with the familiar clang of plated armor. The soldiers had been all too eager to accept the hero of Kenabres as their new Knight-Commander- much more eager than Cleo was to actually act the part. The obstinate woman lounged at her table of maps, not even rising to her feet as she greeted Galfrey with her usual taunt.

This was a worthy gamble, the Queen reminded herself. This inexplicable hostility was a small price to pay, if her newly-appointed Knight-Commander truly had a chance at cracking Drezen.

“Indeed. This mission is a matter of great importance, Commander,” Galfrey said, happy to hear that her voice came out smooth, betraying none of her frustrations. She allowed the weight of her authority to creep in on that last word, hoping to emphasize the importance of the title. “Reclaiming Drezen would be an unimaginable boon to the Crusades…as I have told you. The people believe in you. You have ignited their courage, and their hope. It is these virtues which will bring us to victory.”

“You can ease off the speeches in here, you know. Save us both the time,” Cleo drawled, not bothering to lift her attention away from the maps spread out before her.

Galfrey scowled and moved closer, setting her hands firmly over the maps and papers covering the table. “We are all putting our trust in you. This is not something I say lightly, and I cannot leave without knowing that we have an understanding.”

For the first time, Galfrey’s words actually seemed to have an effect on Cleo; her lazy smile disappeared, and her dark eyes narrowed as she studied the Queen standing before her. She even rose from her seat so as to meet Galfrey eye-to-eye across the narrow table. She shucked off her fur cloak as she stood, revealing broad shoulders laced with scars and decorated with geometric tattoos which wound around the back of her neck.

“And where will you be,” Cleo asked, steady and sharp, “while we charge off fearlessly to victory?”

Galfrey arched an eyebrow, surprised, but it seemed an honest question. “I shall be preparing the defenses at Nerosyan and its sister cities, and planning the future of the Fifth Crusade. Does this satisfy your curiosity, Commander?”

Cleo gave an undignified snort, a look of self-satisfaction flashing across her face. “Should’ve known.”

“Do you have something to say?” Galfrey demanded harshly. Such a rebuke would have shaken any of her courtiers or generals. Even now, knowing Cleo as she did, she half-expected the other woman to step back at the sound of her cutting displeasure.

But of course the Commander did not such thing. She actually leaned closer, eyes flashing, as she hissed, “Just that what you mean to say is that you’ll be watching the battle from the rear, safe and hidden away in some cushy palace while your soldiers bloody the battlefield. Can’t say I’m surprised. I’m sure a throne room is much more amenable to your sensibilities than a war camp.”

Her sensibilities? Galfrey’s jaw clenched. This feckless stranger hadn’t the faintest idea what she was speaking of- what did she know of the battles Galfrey had seen, the blood she herself had spilled in the name of Iomedae? She knew nothing, and Galfrey owed her no explanation for any of it.

“I have already overlooked many instances of insubordination, Commander,” Galfrey said, her voice low. “Do not test me further.”

The warning was a serious one, and perhaps Cleo sensed it. She paused, her face still close, searching the Queen’s expression for- well, Galfrey still wasn’t quite sure. But at last, she let out a quiet breath and turned away.

“It’s only insubordination if you’re the one in charge,” she said, almost conversationally. “From where I sit, you’re not the one doing the leading on this particular mission. If you’ve really got the mettle, march on Drezen with us. You’ve been making all your speeches about how pivotal this mission is for your Crusade. So prove it.”

A few seconds passed in which Galfrey could not form a response. Cleo made no secret of her disdain for the Queen’s presence- why would she make this offer now? Cleo tilted her chin, boldly staring down Galfrey as she waited for an answer.

“It has been a very long time,” Galfrey said slowly, archly, with as much authority as she could muster, “since anyone has dared to speak to me in such a manner. I must ask, what is it you are hoping to accomplish?”

Cleo shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m not actually trying to offend. I don’t know you well enough to know whether I want to offend you or not. And that’s the point. Where I’m from, we don’t give respect based on fancy titles. We respect the people who’ve earned it.” She paused, her eyes roving over Galfrey’s polished armor. “Whatever you believe about me, I do want to win this war. But I also like to know the people I’m fighting with.”

“On that, at least, we can agree.” Galfrey frowned as she found herself seriously considering the offer- no, the challenge. That was what this brash, impetuous tiefling had thrown at her feet. A challenge.

“Very well,” Galfrey said. “We march together.”

A grin crossed Cleo’s face, catching Galfrey by surprise yet again. “Looking forward to it.” She laughed, and the grin widened to show off her pointed teeth. “We’re gonna make those demons wish they never crawled out of their mothers’ hellholes.”

When Galfrey left the tent, she told herself this was a sound decision, made for sound reasons. The advance would benefit from her presence, and this way she could keep an eye on her new unpredictable Commander. All her reasons were all true, which made them all that much easier to believe.

But a small part of her whispered that the truth of it was…it had been so long since someone had truly challenged her. Maybe she just wanted to see what would come of it, and of this unprecedented Knight-Commander.

Gods above, Galfrey thought, shaking her head at herself as the thoughts rattled through her mind. What have I just unleashed upon the world?

[lukedanger]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[milk-crafting]

Valtiel Smash or Pass

Art by me and garadraws on artfight!

tagged by @camelliagwerm !

tagging whoever wants to do it, even if you've already done it 😌 I like having buttons on my dash to click and you all have hot ocs

I'll add actual info and not just propaganda here dsfghjk Valtiel 38, male, he/him

Orphaned son of Mendevian crusaders, one of which was a werewolf and passed that on to him. He worships Zon-Kuthon, and worked as a priest of his before becoming a warpriest specifically. He was born an oracle though, and believes that he gets his visions from velstracs, or maybe even from Zon-Kuthon himself.

pros: he's a great cook, consent is super important to him unless he has a reason to harm you (like if you're a demon or otherwise actively trying to harm him) so you really don't have to worry about him doing Kuthonite things to you, he's big and has a soft tummy and a little bit of muscle too

cons: he will do Kuthonite things to himself and to anyone else who requests it (even if you don't want to see that), grunts when he stands up or gets out of bed like a man twice his age, can read but thinks reading is a waste of time if it's not something being done out of necessity (like he wouldn't read for pleasure), actually he really doesn't do much out of pleasure, doesn't believe in comfort

Pro or con depending on personal preference tbh but he ascends and becomes a deity

[dragonologist-phd]

7. silent fury for Lilith?

Thank you! This one could have gone a lot of different ways for her, but I ended up with something inspired by my wish for more companion reactivity to the galfrey corruption arc:

All this time, and Seelah still doesn’t understand Lilith at all.

She thinks she does, sometimes. Lilith is cold and harsh, harsher than Seelah would like, but she gets things done. She doesn’t think much of Crusaders or Mendevians or people in general, but she hates demons even more. Seelah has never heard her laugh in a way that wasn’t somehow mocking, but apparently a good personality isn’t a requirement for the position of Knight-Commander.

And Seelah can make sense of all that, even if the picture it paints isn’t very pretty. But then, sometimes, Lilith does things that Seelah doesn’t see coming.

Like when she makes sure that Ember is fully healed after every battle. Or when she gives Wenduag those soft looks when she thinks nobody can see.

Or when she forgives Queen Galfrey.

That last one is what puzzles Seelah now, as she catches sight of Lilith and Galfrey walking the citadel battlements. They pause at the corner tower, away from the guards, and Lilith leans close to speak intently into Galfrey’s ear. Galfrey does not pull away, nor does she remove Lilith’s hand from where it rests upon her arm. From her position in the courtyard below, Seelah could swear she sees the Queen smile, and it sends a prickling shiver down the back of her neck.

Maybe it’s fine. Lilith isn’t exactly the forgiving type…but Seelah has always liked to think that people can change. Maybe that’s what happened.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

But Seelah remembers Midnight Fane and the moment of exile. She remembers Lilith, shaking with cold, silent fury as she stared down the Queen. She remembers Lilith’s words: “You’ve made a mistake.”

Seelah also remembers Iz, and the look on Lilith’s face when she found the Queen in distress, and the harsh words of blame that came from her tongue. She remembers thinking, Oh Saints, Lilith’s actually gonna kill her.

She didn’t, obviously. And since then, things between the two have obviously changed. Lilith and Galfrey have been working together more closely than ever before, and Lilith has even renewed her vow of fealty to the crown.

Sudden as this change of heart is, it’s a good thing.

So why does it make Seelah so uneasy?

Seelah sighs and rubs at the back of her neck. Could be that it’s just another quirk of Lilith’s that she will never understand. After all, what does Seelah know of politics and devils and queens?

Up above, Lilith and Galfrey resume their walk, with Galfrey now speaking passionately as Lilith listens with rapt attention. Nothing about the the image speaks to a hint of malice between the two women. Seelah’s neck prickles again.

In the distance, she hears Elan call out her name, and she is reminded that she should be focusing on her own problems rather than making up new ones. She turns her attention to her friend, and sure enough her mind is soon distracted by the details of their upcoming mission. Some part of her hopes desperately that the sinking feeling in her stomach is just because she’s nervous about that, and has nothing at all to do with the Commander.

But every time Seelah’s mind wanders back to that scene of Lilith and Galfrey and their novel camaraderie, foreboding goosebumps prickle all the way down her spine.

Micro Stories

[yunessa]

Hellknights. The name invokes a cruel and evil figure in black armour. Usually one that’s a paragon of everything to fear that isn’t a demon. Cruel to the point of being evil. Harsh like a beach made up of broken seashells. You don’t need to look far to see their dour nature. Some whisper of evil pacts forged with the hells, others wonder what these black armour clad knights gain from being a Hellknight.

My guess? 

I don’t care. I don’t understand their way of living. But they are all there and willing to be here in this hellhole known as the Worldwound. They aren’t concerned with the moralties of the situation at hand. Rather, they focus on discipline and are interested in the end results- no matter how they get them. 

Are some of them genuinely worth the Hellknights reputation? Most likely. I only know Regil and Regil’s subordinates thus far to determine that. Regil’s order he hails from started with the first Mendevian crusade. Perhaps that’s why he came here. Or maybe he had another reason. 

But I have a feeling about Regil. Sometimes you can feel fate as you make a choice. This choice can be as irrelevant as which path in the road you take or as difficult as the hardest choice you’ll ever make.

Regil roughly reaches my waist with purple hair slowly bleaching white and amber eyes that stand out. His voice is low, his words blunt, and to most, coarse. But within a few weeks it became easy to understand that he spoke volumes between his words if I were willing to listen.

Understanding what Regil Derenge speaks in those volumes is another matter. But knowing that he does have them does allow you to understand there’s more to hear if you’re willing.

And in Regil I can feel the wheel of fate turning. He’ll be a part of this crusade alongside me. I don’t yet know if I’ll get along with the Paralictor. But I have a feeling he’ll be important to this crusade.

Even if I ignore how helpful the Hellknights have been thus far. A lot of my crusaders aren’t fond of them. But they so far, on this march to Drezen, have kept to themselves.I’m glad. Some part of me expected trouble, but they are disciplined, strong, and they ignore the looks the less disciplined crusaders cast their way.

All things begin with a feeling don’t they? An impulsive choice I latched onto that would also help change the fate of the crusade forever. What use is a leader without a firm second who can help get stuff done? -Yunessa

[goddevouringserpent]

WOTR Companions First and Final Impressions

taking the open tag @the-raging-tempest left over at Discord cause I really really wanted to do this hehehehe :3 it was very very fun, even if time-consuming, so I am open tagging anyone who wants to do it! (& please do feel free to tag me in it because I very much want to see 👀)

the first impressions match the first actual interaction my KCs had with the companions, for which I am using the first real dialogue they ever had; so, for example, although they both technically met Camellia at the Kenabres festival, I am counting the first meeting as being in the caves under Kenabres.

First impressions

Seelah

Irenni: "A spot of hope in the middle of so much destruction! You lighten my heart with your presence, lady knight."

Kaija: "Paladin of Iomedae, huh? Well, you don't seem as stuck-up as the rest of your kin, at least. Mind your own business, I'll mind mine, and we should get along fine."

Camellia

Irenni: "So poised and elegant... I'm surprised by how nonplussed you seem, but in all fairness, you look high-born, and I suppose nobles are taught to conceal their emotions."

Kaija: "Ugh. Do we really have to babysit this spoiled brat? Hope you actually know how to use that rapier of yours, pretty girl, 'cause I'm not sticking my neck out for you."

Lann

Irenni: "A valiant warrior with a noble heart, I can tell. 'Tis a pity you downplay your own worth with such ferocity."

Kaija: "I know your type. You hate who you are, don't you, underground crusader? Tale as old as time. Shed those chains already—they'll never see you like you want them to see you. We're all just horned freaks to the respectable folks."

Wenduag

Irenni: "You are so angry... We mean no harm to you or yours. Let us help, please. We can only save each other if we stick together!"

Kaija: "There's a shrewdness in you, isn't there? You're a clever one. A survivor. Dangerous. It's fine, I can work with that. You're nothing new to me, huntress."

Woljif

Irenni: "I hope I'm not making a mistake by helping you. You seem harmless enough, but that shadow... There's something wrong about it. Do you even know the nature of the magic you wield?"

Kaija: "A kindred spirit. You're the only one here who understands. I see it in your eyes. We have the same look, you and I, the same kind of dirt under our fingernails, the same bloodied teeth. I've got your back, for as long as this arrangement lasts—way things are, turning my back on you would be like turning my back on myself."

Ember

Irenni: "Oh, you sweet soul... 'tis fortunate Andoletta watches over you, but still—you should be somewhere safe, enjoying your childhood, not bearing witness to the horrors of war."

Kaija: "I can tell there's some sort of strength in you, but you've gotta toughen up, kid, or the world will chew you up and spit you out."

Daeran

Irenni: "You behave as though you knew exactly what to say in order to vex me, Count Arendae. I ought to chastise you for being so irresponsible and inconsiderate, but you would not care at all. And... truth be told, you are fascinating, in your own way. A weakness in me, perhaps. We shall see. In the meantime—make yourself useful."

Kaija: "Hello there, yet-another-noble-prick in the endless assortment of Mendevian noble pricks! At least you're fun to be around, I'll give you that. Maybe someday I'll crash one of your parties. You might even thank me for it."

Nenio

Irenni: "A fellow scholar! Oh, this is so exciting. I cannot even blame you for your... peculiarities; truly, all of us who share an interest for the academic can sympathize, to one degree or another. I do so look forward to trading theories with you."

Kaija: "Heard about people like you, here and there. Strange stories. Sad, often. Leave it to a genius to lose her mind—there's a certain irony in it. But I think we'll work well together, long as you follow my lead."

Galfrey

Irenni: "Everlight, I feel so inadequate. The Queen of Mendev! Here! Sitting at my table! It is a pleasure and an honour, Your Majesty, although I wish the circumstances were different... and I wish I were a bit more put-together for the occasion..."

Kaija: "Bah. Mendev's golden figurehead. Must feel good, to come marching in and have everyone prostrate themselves at your feet, even though you did absolutely jack shit. Don't expect any special treatment from me, Your Majesty. Far as I'm concerned, you're just some freeloader at our table."

Sosiel

Irenni: "A servant of the Eternal Rose is always welcome! I see a sincere kindness in your eyes that puts me at ease... and Sarenrae knows that is exactly what I need right now."

Kaija: "Nice to have another artist nearby. Not many of us here. And there's a steel in you, a fire. It burns low, more a simmer than anything else, but I can tell. I've been there. No wonder, after the losses you've experienced. You'll do fine. Channel that fire."

Regill

Irenni: "Hellknight, is it? Hmph. I guarantee you will disagree with my methods, Paralictor; I hope, for both our sakes, that you are still willing to obey my orders."

Kaija: "Credit where it's due, you're one hell of a fighter. Don't really mind the stick up your ass if we can use it in our favour. 'Sides, a little spot of pragmatism might do us some good in the long run. Tired of all the crusaders with their heads in the clouds."

Arueshalae

Irenni: "My heart reaches out to you, as yours does to mine. I am aware it is ill-advised to trust a succubus, but, as servants of good, ought we not embrace any demons who choose to leave behind the stain of evil and embark upon a different path? Is it not our duty to aid them in this difficult journey? I open my arms for you, Arueshalae, even if it means the death of me."

Kaija: "I should be suspicious, and yet... I heard you. I saw you. In the temple of Desna, and in the shrine. That... that can't just be a demonic trick, right? There are some things the Abyss can't touch. But an ascending succubus... Demons aren't capable of redemption. It isn't in their nature. It's what everyone says, isn't it? But... but maybe... Maybe there's a chance... Maybe, if you..."

Greybor

Irenni: "Why in the world would you refuse to address the demon invasion going on, but take on an assassination contract? I am astounded by the greed and selfishness involved in your thought process, but, most of all, I am baffled by your short-sightedness. There will be no gold to reclaim should the armies of the Abyss prevail, good sir."

Kaija: "'Go and get reinforcements from the Defender's Heart,' heh... You don't know who you're talking to, master assassin. Don't need help to kill these demons. Go ahead and take care of your mark—just don't get in my way. Wouldn't want ya to have your limbs cleaved off."

Parting thoughts

Seelah

Irenni: "What a joy, to have shared this fight with you. You have kept me steady, grounded in hope, and I am so glad to have done the same for you. Do not let anyone extinguish your spark. It is people like you that give our struggles meaning."

Kaija: "You've proven me wrong, time and time again. Never thought I'd be happy about that, but I guess there's always a first time for everything. It's been an honour fighting at your side, Seelah... And an even bigger honour drinking at your side!"

Camellia

Irenni: "I... I tried, Camellia. I really did. I would have helped you, if only you had been truthful. But in the end, I... I did what I had to do. I am not proud of it, but you forced my hand."

Kaija: "I keep telling myself it was for the best, and maybe one day I'll believe it. We would've ruined each other, beloved, you know that as well as I do. Better to stop when... when we still could. But that doesn't mean I've stopped loving you. I never will. You'll always have a part of me. Wherever you go, whatever you do... be safe. Think of me, from time to time. I'll think of you."

Lann

Irenni: "It is so good to see you happy, at long last. You deserve it—you always have. You have performed all your duties admirably, Lann, both towards the crusade and towards your people. Find comfort, now. Live the life you want. May your aim be ever true and steady, my friend."

Kaija: "You've got to let go, at some point. Move on. Bury it or it'll bury you."

Wenduag

Irenni: "I bear you no ill will. You were deeply wounded, I can tell that now, and my only regret is being unable to heal you. May you find peace in the afterlife."

Kaija: "Hasn't always been easy, because I'll be fucked if you don't like to make everything as hard as possible, but... Here we are. Looking at us from where we stand at the end, I can say I'm glad to have met you. Glad to know you. You've found your own power, your own strength, and—I respect you, for that. See myself in you a little bit. Who would've thought, huh?"*

Woljif

Irenni: "I am so, so proud of you, and deeply ashamed I ever doubted you. So many would have fallen prey to the temptation of demonic power, but you... I know it was what you had wanted all your life, and yet you found strength enough in yourself to refuse it! I am humbled by you, Woljif."

Kaija: "The light of my life. That's what you are. Can't say I believe in soulmates or none of that, but I do believe in choosing someone over and over, with your whole heart, every day of your life, and... Well, I'll keep choosing you, over and over, for as long as I draw breath. You've changed me, deep to my core, and once upon a time I would've fought against that—you would've had me kicking and screaming to get out, heh—but now I wouldn't have it any other way. Wouldn't have you any other way. I'm with you, dearest, 'til the end, through thick and thin. It's you and me."

Ember

Irenni: "Your kindness is brilliant, Ember. Blinding. I hardly understand it myself, and I have felt the touch of Heaven! I know you do not believe in divine intervention, but... I cannot, in good faith, claim our meeting to be a coincidence. Both of us, devoted to mercy and redemption and salvation... We are the company we keep, I suppose, but we are altogether too similar in ideals for it to not mean something. I shall be pleased to accompany you further, should our paths meet again."

Kaija: "First time in my life I've ever been so thankful for someone getting their thoughts in order. You were heading down a bad road, kid. Putting yourself in danger. And—d'you think I could've lived with myself if I'd let you and you'd gotten killed because of it? I know it feels bad to have to temper your expectations, but you'll thank me later."

Daeran

Irenni: "Ah, my love, what I wouldn't do for you. We have not had an easy time of it, have we? A rocky beginning, a middle fraught with difficulties and obstacles... We have been our own worst enemies, in truth. But there is not a single thing that I would change. I am honoured to love you and to have you love me; to know you and to have you know me. I am so fortunate that you have chosen to trust me with your life, your heart, your freedom, even. I will keep you safe, no matter what it takes. You can rest lightly in my hands—I promise. You will never regret letting me love you."

Kaija: "Not too proud to admit I misjudged you. I mean, in a sense I had your measure as soon as I met you, knew exactly what kinda person I was dealing with, but in another sense, you've surprised me. Never thought I'd find a real friend in you. My best friend, even. Life's full of little jokes and twists, isn't it? I think we can both drink to that, and not just because we'll take any excuse to drink. So—here's to your health, Count."

Nenio

Irenni: "I... I don't understand. Why would you ever want... What led you to... to make the choices you made? You are worth more than that, Nenio. I pray it is not too late for you."

Kaija: "Somehow what's going on with you is less outlandish than what I thought was going on with you. It's fine. Seems like a lot, but you'll pull through, if you really want to. I believe you can."

Galfrey

Irenni: "You carry your burdens, and I carry mine. I neither envy nor resent you. Let us part in peace. I wish you well, Galfrey of Mendev."

Kaija: "Fool. If you keep holding your chin up, your neck'll snap. We're not on even footing anymore—I've long since surpassed ya, and you know it. Write a letter to your goddess if you're so mad about it."

Sosiel

Irenni: "It is good to see you have healed. You were teetering on the edge of something so grim, far from the light of Shelyn, and although I had faith in your ability to remain steadfast, I worried for you, Sosiel. Yet you have so gracefully recovered from the blows life dealt you. A soul as gentle and good as yours deserves nothing but that, my friend."

Kaija: "I know it wasn't what you expected, but did good. Kept your spine straight when it counted. Didn't back down. Opened your eyes. So that closure you got, Sosiel, those answers—that was all you, in the end. It was your actions that saved both of you. Take pride in that."

Regill

Irenni: "We have not always seen eye to eye... quite the opposite, in fact... but in the end, I am glad to have fought alongside you, Regill Derenge. I think, in better times, we could have been friends, but war can make strangers of us all."

Kaija: "Surprised at how well we work together. Or maybe not. It's all in the fighting mettle, after all—we're warriors through and through, and I guess even through our differences we could recognise that in each other. Steel calls to steel. I respect you, Regill, and I'm pretty sure the feeling's mutual. Wouldn't be where you are now if it weren't, yeah?"

Arueshalae

Irenni: "There are too many things I should have told you, too many things I should tell you... but now is not the time. Later, once we are free. Then I will... Everlight's mercy, I just need you to know how deeply I care for you, how much I treasure and cherish and admire you, how badly I want to—augh, later, Irenni, later!"**

Kaija: "You say that I saved you, that you owe me so much, but c'mon, Arue, don't sell yourself short: you saved me every bit as much as I saved you. A mutual thing, yeah? Pulled each other outta the Abyss. I'm so proud of you, sister, and so grateful for everything you've done."

Greybor

Irenni: "Truthfully, I was not expecting you to take my advice to heart, and I am pleasantly surprised you have chosen to do so. I wish you an uneventful life, Greybor. Enjoy every moment."

Kaija: "A professional, through and through. We did some good work together. You've a... productive future ahead of you, I'm sure—who knows, maybe I'll require your services sometime, hah."

*Kaija's parting answer for Wenduag is largely a placeholder because this is my first time recruiting Wendu (I'd wanted to before, but I couldn't rationalise how/why Kai would, until now) & I am still figuring out their dynamic. however, I feel there might be... Something there. as in, the inklings of a very interesting ship dynamic. and I can never say no to toxic yuri, it's my kryptonite, soooo I am just kinda leaving that reply there for now lol

**Irenni romances Arueshalae, but only after the game ends. during the events of the game itself she's too busy dealing with her feelings towards Daeran to even try and address her feelings towards Arue. they are very much present, Irenni just... sets them aside, for the time being, because she already has enough on her plate emotions-wise as-is LOL but after everything is done, they become an item :3

[jean-dieu]

Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous : Companion AU for my OCs!

Being the main character is neat, but what if my bois were companion? I've written an in-game introduction for them all, and I'll try to develop their potential quests a little. Keep in mind that only Raphaël and Zarathustra have/could have taken part in the crusade. Raphaël is my Knight Commander, and Zarathustra was born at the time. Lazare and Ziel are both born after the worldwound was sealed. It's just for fun teehee.

Raphaël : "Despite being a tiefling, Raphaël rose above his birth's circumstances and joined the rank of the Inquisition after a failed attempt at priesthood. A devoted Sarenite, he is a valuable asset to the crusade but his fiendish heritage as well as his authoritative and distant behaviour don't make him a popular soldier among others. But surely, there's something more behind this intimidating, cold facade?"

Ziel : "As if being a tiefling in Kenabres wasn't hard enough, Ziel also happens to be the son of an Abadarite Priest who was disgraced and cast aside after being found guilty of corruption. A thiefling and a calistrian, the young bard is actively seeking revenge in his father's name, the poor man drowning his sorrows with alcohol since he lost everything. Sarcastic and cynical, he doesn't hide his hatred for most Gods and religion… But he seems more eager to help the crusade than he lets out. He has apprentely helped Irabeth many times in the past, and she seems to trust him despite his dubious reputation and volatile behaviour."

Zarathustra: "Why would an acclaimed chelish alchemist risk his life in a far-away crusade? Especially since Zarathustra doesn't strike anyone as a benevolent man. The winged tiefling showed up one day, shroudded in smoke and mystery and most people don't seem to know anything about him, except for a few local mendevian, peasants and nobles alike, who seems to have a few things to say about his past…"

Lazare: "Lazare's smile and cheerful behaviour as well a his talent in singing and violin were sure to make the young tiefling popular among his peers regardless of his heritage. Despite his obvious naivety, he doesn't seem to back up when things get gruesome in battles, and he's ready to help anyone in need. But is his jolly, kind and exuberant behaviour only an act? He has been spotted by a fellow crusader talking in infernal to his instrument, a black violin he claims he inherited from his mother. While the object his obviously magical, its nature isn't exactly known at the moment, and Lazare doesn't seem to want to tell us more…"

[silversiren1101]

Comm by @eurekq! (Ooooh you want to support her so bad, you want to get some pretty art too oooohh go do it!)

Wanted to order Minovae another dress, this time one she could wear to the post-Crusade victory gala! Something a little daring but elegant, something that harkens back to her armor, but is a reminder she's a lady that loves a bit of ruffles and lace when out of it! Absolutely love the colors and sheen on the dress so much!

Just imagine being a Mendevian noble: you're on the Royal Council, the Knight Commander you have never met is a known Hellknight and every response you've ever gotten from her has been firm and intense rejection of compromise and cooperation, she punched the queen and scarred her cheek, and she a ganzi from Cheliax? You're expecting clunky armor on a brutish figure and dour face to come striding into that ballroom come the gala, except...

Too bad. Minovae Arangeir is a former bard. She used to dance with the Chelaxian aristocracy in order to build her cases as a Scourge Knight. She's classically trained and just as comfortable in stilettos as she is her boots and sollerets. She can play your game just as much as she can lead a war and win, and she's certainly not afraid of a noble that can't even stand up to a single dretch.

[dujour13]

10, 32 and 28 for Sia?

Thanks Harper! 💕💕

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Answered here. Basically - “I promise” and yes.

32. Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

He has so many stories there isn’t exactly a classic he trots out for every occasion, but there are a couple he’s especially fond of.

He often comes back to this one from his pre-Crusade days in the Andoren diplomatic corps. (It would take some retrofitting but I like the idea that he may have met Daeran before the Crusade.)

A couple of years ago there was a Taldan Duchess who claimed that a certain young Mendevian Count had put her in a delicate condition at her debutante ball, and via the royal family was pressuring his cousin, the Queen of Mendev, to force him to marry her, escalating the political stakes when he categorically refused. He protested his “innocence,” claiming he gained entrance only by the back door, metaphorically speaking.

As a neutral 3rd party an Andoren diplomatic delegation was called in and Siavash drew the short straw to have a chat with the Count.

He never tells exactly what they said to each other, but they both came out of the sitting room wine-drunk and Siavash informed the delegation there was nothing for them do; the Count had it all under control.

The Count proceeded to make himself at home with his new fiancée.

He hired some unsavory types to burgle the estate and deliver to him the family’s sensitive documents, perhaps in an attempt to dis-inculpate himself and prove the whole pregnancy was a sham to begin with, but stumbled upon the dire secret that the Duchess’ gambling habit had frittered away most of the family fortune. This the Count released to the press, but not before drawing the Duchess into a pyramid scheme that finished the job.

He also proceeded to:

Encourage the servants to unionize; train the family dogs to hump guests’ legs; purchase a shocking quantity of love elixir in the Duchess’ name; encourage certain salacious habits in the Duchess’ teenage brother, which ended in minor injury when he slipped off a window-ledge; and, as the cherry on top, seduce his fiancée’s father, the Duke.

The family sent him packing back to Mendev within a month.

As Siavash does hilarious imitations, especially of nobility, this story gets a lot of traction.

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

On trivial matters he’ll take a pleasant lie over an unpleasant truth anytime, and he’s more than willing to return the favor. Tell him how great he looks in those green striped bard trousers.

But when it comes to more important matters he puts a lot of stock in honesty, because owning up to his mistakes and using them as a chance to improve is important to him. He hates letting people down. He can accept constructive criticism because he’s always been good at appearing to take it gracefully. (I should say, from anyone except his dad and Regill.)

[shiawasekai]

So thanks to conversations at the Discord I realized some... factors I hadn't accounted for in Nela's backstory.

Nela was kindapped by Areelu at 4738AR, the year the Second Mendevian Crusade started. I had that much ironed out. She's from Andoran, specifically the Carpenden region (from where Sosiel comes from, given context clues).

That much I had ironed out, what I failed to account is what was happening in Andoran at that particular point and for as long as Nela, given her age, would have been alive: The Cheliax Civil War. She didn't even get to see House Thorne rise to power in Cheliax (which would fuel the People's Revolt and Andoran's independence), that happens two years later.

In short, she was born in the middle of a very, very long civil war, grew in the middle of a civil war and "died" in the middle of a civil war.

HOWEVER...

Given Carpenden is in the opposite side of Cheliaxian border, and also given Nela is a commoner from a very much humble family, the effects this would have had in her daily life are relatively limited.

Yes, food would have been limited and poverty levels would be up due to tax increases. Foraging was probably an essential skill to compensate for the limited resources. Some people she knew would have been drafted. But they were far enough from the battlefields the general flow of her story up to her kidnapping doesn't really have to change.

It isn't to say it doesn't have an effect. But, in her area, the war was probably most felt in ways a child isn't necessarily worrying about.

It makes the idea that a church (I think I'll just change it to Shelyn's, upon further thought) financed the twins' education even more significant given the general poverty levels.

It definitely further informs her distaste of nobility, given that the civil war paved the way for the People's Revolt in the citizen's minds.

It makes her connection to the Church of Nethys and finding a master, who was most likely who helped finance her education as an Arcanist, even more significant. Which further explains why is she so attached to it, and why it is so foundational to some parts of her personality.

It definitely colors the slave incident during her teens, as the whole scenario takes on much darker connotations during this time period (and I have to mull that over...).

She is probably very much used to ration food and make do with foraging, even if she doesn't have Lann's expertise levels.

It makes the idea of having to handle international affairs even more painful. She is obsessed with making informed choices, but anything concerning Andoran means reading into the current political situation... which couldn't be more different from the Andoran she remembers.

She would have a breakdown trying to convince herself that her memory is just all muddy because of whatever happened, clinging to her denial. Which also further explains why she dodges Sosiel like the plague when he tries to bring up the matter of their shared homeland (and hence her brother).

It also means that her brother, who would have spent 10+ as a Pathfinder before the People's Revolt triggered, would have absolutely taken part in it. Which also explains why he may be a locally notorious figure.

Once she starts facing the truth, she IS happy for her homeland. But she wasn't there when everything was happening and she would absolutely feel a stranger in her own country if she ever visited. She was always going to feel a disconnect from the place because of the huge jump in time, but it has also changed SO MUCH. Even if it's for the better!

[another-heroine]

KC as a Companion - Part One

It took forever, but THE FIRST HALF IS HERE

I need more time to write about her personal quests and romance

Name: Ekaterina Grushankaya

Race: Aasimar (Emberkin)

Class: Blight Druid

Appearance: A tall, athletic-like aasimar (circa 180cm) with bright red hair entwined in reddish wool locks and owl feathers, grayish blue eyes, and fair-skinned, with some tattoos over her wrists and forearms. She wears worn but clean Mendevian typical clothes, humble jewelry, and a fur overcoat. Also she has an ornate quarterstaff with blue stones (can’t be taken off from her inventory). 

Favored Weapon/Equipment: Simple Weapons, Light/Medium Armor (only leather and alikes), light shield

Top Skills: Lore (Nature and Religion) and Perception

Alignment: Neutral Good

General Personality: Introverted, caring, brave, wise and proud.

What traits/values do they admire?

Righteousness, kindness, bravery, search for balance.

What traits/values do they disapprove of?

Cruelty just for the sake of being cruel, playing god, compulsive lies, tyranny.   

Are they affiliated with any deities?

She follows the Green Faith

What do they think of their role in the Crusades, and of sharing the Commander’s Mythic powers? What are their reasons for joining the commander’s party?

Katya says she was called by the land to purge the Blight, and then her feet led her to Drezen, and the Crusades afterwards. She joins the Commander’s party as a way to fulfill her role, and also to help the soldiers with her healing skills. About the Mythic powers, she believes that they came for a good reason, and like Lann, Ekaterina supposes they also came with a price. But while they are useful, she has no objections about it (since they are not evil-aligned; otherwise she would oppose since the beginning).

Who are their friends among the other party members?

She has a soft spot for Ember, and becomes friends with Woljif, Seelah, Lann and Arueshalae through the time.

What about rivals?

She is suspicious towards Camellia’s intentions, greatly disapproves Wenduag’s methods, and thinks Daeran is just a prick rich boy — what is not a lie though. About Greybor and Regill, she tries to be neutral, but doesn’t lose the opportunity to defend her ideals when provoked. 

Are they on any councils? If so, what sort of advice do they give?

She attends to the Diplomatic and Logistic Councils, mainly advising the Commander to take care of the locals and try to preserve the ancient sites around the Wound, sending druids or other arcana experts to study these places and learn something from them.

Where do they hang out in Drezen? In the Abyss?

In Drezen, she’s next to the Abandoned House. After the greenhouse is grounded, next to the Citadel she will be there too. In the Abyss, she is next to Ember.

What are their idle animations?

Checking her belt and potions; musing something with a hand on her chin; crouching and waiting for any movement. 

If they’re taken to Areelu’s lab, what is their dream?

She is an archdruid at a Circle somewhere in Mendev. Ekaterina is attending a council and there are some Crusades’ members among the crowd. Next to her, there is a girl with short red hair (if Lann is trying to flirt with her, the girl will have little horns too).

After that, if the Commander asks what that means, she will just shrug and say, ‘It’s not a secret at all, Commander. I mean, half of Kenabres knew or supposed that I wanted a place where I could really call home. And not home just for me, but… for people like me. Or us. Kindred folk, you see?’

Do they advise the commander to abandon or keep their mythic powers?

She isn’t against any good-aligned mythic powers, but when it’s about Chaotic ones, Ekaterina has mixed opinions: she believes that Trickster and Azata disturb the universe balance, despite the good intentions of the latter, for example. But still there is a chance for her to stay (doing her personal quests help it). Except for Evil paths; she will leave as soon as the KC states they won’t renounce it.

How/when do they join the Commander’s party?

At the Second Act. But you meet her at Defender’s Heart. When the KC wakes up, she is in the room taking care of them. Irabeth comes along and introduces her before asking Katya to leave them alone. After that, you can find her outside, aiding the injured survivors. She isn’t available to join the party yet, but if you ask her to come with you, she says that she will think about it (and becomes a companion when the Crusades are officially announced).

[cassynite]

sparrow happy au?👀

Aaaah thank you so much Romeo! I did talk about it here but I will share another snippet under the cut:

The room glows golden, partially from the ever-glittering presence of the veil around Rene's summoning and partially from actual gold, which coats the stately walls of the hall she is peering into. It glimmers in sunlight that streams through a large arched window--Sarkorin influence there, her mind supplies, the very sort of curl and cue that she's come to recognize as common in older-generation buildings in northern Mendev that have either somehow survived the last four Crusades or have been adequately replicated to appear older than they are. This one, obviously, is a replication, as would be the entire hall--a mimic, a mirror into the world she exists in and possibly her own architecture-drenched mind, to obfuscate what dimension she'd dragged to her backdoor. The creature she's summoned has further hidden itself by presenting as--her. Rene stares at the stranger standing in the center of the hall, the being watching her with a still, wide-eyed expression of mild surprise. It's a good likeness, if hodge-podge--the creature can't hide the divine light that seems to pour from their skin, even if they've arranged their features to mirror Rene's. Their outfit does the image no favors for authenticity, their walking dress a typical Mendevian fashion except for the bright orange color of their blouse, nothing like the Garundi styles that Rene clings to even in the backwater arctic circles she's forced to occupy. And, of course, the wings, white edged in golden brown, folded against the entity's back are a bit of a giveaway that Rene's peering into a pocket of Heaven, or perhaps Nirvana. The entity seems perfectly happy to just stare at Rene through her portal into eternity, her expression never moving from that initial barely-there surprise. Well, Rene is the one knocking, so she might as well be polite. "Greetings," she bows. "I call for aid. May you help me?" "Who are you?" The entity speaks with Rene's voice, even. It trembles at the end, the same way Rene's does when she's absolutely terrified and trying not to show it. It's a little rude, really, to mock Rene's own trepidation about the encounter. "A traveler," Rene answers. Best as always not to give names, just in case she's snagged some kind of fey. "The sister of an architect and encounterer of many strange creatures and peoples. I know a man who is in need, but I do not know how to aid him. I would like assistance with this, and am willing to pay."

[lukedanger]

Owlcatober - Day 12 - Home

Anevia's victory after the crusades for @owlcatober

[Ao3 Link]

===

The end of the Worldwound and the deconstruction of the Wardstones had signaled something more in Mendev. Anevia had expected much as Galfrey feared when the idea was first discussed: anger, disbelief, even riots from people fearing for their safety. Yet instead, it signaled something new.

Anevia smiled as she looked out the window - no longer was she looking across a cobbled street to another house in a densely packed city. Now she could see the clear blue sky of Golarion, and on the other side of the canyon she could just make out the top of the Lost Chapel. The Worldwound would likely take generations to heal, but around places like Drezen or Pulura’s Falls the corruption was being purged - and with that, nature could begin to heal.

Which, of course, meant that the whole self-sufficiency issue was now something they could tackle. And as Anevia could smell what she was waiting for, she knew that it was time. Pushing herself off of her perch, she made her way downstairs and towards the back of the house.

The kitchen they had set up for themselves was relatively small - not much larger than the one they had in Kenabres, but at least now they had a proper dining room with some separation. And as Anevia stepped in and could feel the heat, she smiled. Kneeling in front of the oven, she looked at what she had baking inside and smiled as it was just about done.

Historians would talk about the Fifth Crusade in terms of heroic deeds by brave knights and knaves, of an army of mortals fighting alongside angels and archons against the horrors of the Abyss, of political upheaval as Mendev finally cracked under a century of total war. About how the Battle of the Threshold was a decisive moment that saw Drezen’s Angel of Salvation defeat the Architect of the Worldwound and finish off Deskari once and for all. The Mendevian Crusades had ended in victory, yes, but Threshold was the small victory.

Sliding the wooden peel under the loaf, Anevia grimaced a moment as she worried it was stuck to the bottom of the oven. Another push, though, and she had the peel underneath and was able to pull it out. It already smelled so good, and Irabeth would be back soon.

It still needed to sit out for a bit, to cool and to be easier to cut, but she had waited years already. She could wait a couple more minutes.

She could hear the steps of a horse, followed shortly after by someone in plate harness dismounting. Anevia tensed out of habit, but as she listened she heard only one person and relaxed. Just in time.

A minute later, the door opened and Irabeth stepped inside, no doubt eager to take her armor off. “‘Nevi?” she asked.

“In the kitchen!” Anevia called back. “It’s cooling now!”

“Wait, you actually-” Irabeth hurried through the dining room. She knew what Anevia had planned.

And as the paladin stood at the door to the kitchen, she stared at the bread. It was not the first loaf made from wheat that had been grown in the former Worldwound - the muldnal that answered the Erastilians’ prayers for aid in restoring Drezen’s farmland had been given that honor - but it had its own importance.

“So, ready to taste victory?” Anevia asked, cracking up as she could not contain how silly that sounded.

The fact that she was in a position to say such a silly thing, that she and her wife could now make their own bread, in their own home, with ingredients grown in walking distance from where they lived rather than relying on distant shipments from southeastern Mendev or beyond?

As Anevia had said this would be the moment she declared victory. All in the comfort of her home instead of yet another battlefield.

[rollofleaf]

Stillness footwear change and bling for ocs of your choice?

Gonna do someone different for each one!

Stillness for Ethyn: Ethyn is very composed when still and doesn't fidget much. She typically rests with her hands folded in her lap, and occasionally has to adjust her hair or skirt to make sure it looks good.

Footwear for Nadia: On days where she stays in, she has some fur-lined shoes for comfort and a bit of warmth. When out on the road, she wears leather boots for protection.

Change for Hilde: Hilde goes through a few major changes to her appearance. Before the 5th Crusade, she keeps her hair short and unstyled and doesn't wear makeup. She also doesn't have her tattoos. She grows her hair out and gets her tattoos not long before reaching Kenabres. After her mythic power fully manifests and she becomes part demon, she ends up leaning into it with dark lipstick and nail polish. Then when she becomes an azata she changes her wardrobe and makeup again to better fit her new wings and Elysian powers.

Bling for Sakura: Sakura sees jewelry only as a symbol of wealth and status and dresses accordingly. As the Commander, she takes to wearing earrings with Iomedae's symbol to project piety and dresses with typical Mendevian jewelry. On her own, she wears flower earrings.

[asgrim02]

Owlcatober 2024 Day 11: Medals

I haven't written any fiction in a very long time, so this is going to get me back into it. In my first playthough of WotR I was kind of bad at the army thing, and got a lot of good troops killed, so this is from my KC's perspective of my blunder as a player. The sun was setting on the city of Drezen as Knight-Commander Aerik retired to his study. He slumped down in the carved oaken chair, the soft cushion doing little to raise his spirits, or ease the bruises of battle.

Evening was usually his favourite part of the day, where Aerik would unwind from the tribulations of the Crusade, spend time with his friends and companions, and sip on liquor while watching the final reds of twilight, but this evening was different.

He eyed the piles of carved wooden boxes arranged around his desk. There must have been hundreds, each one intricately decorated with beautiful silver fittings and the Mendevian coat of arms.

Aerik sighed and reached out, hesitating for a second before clenching his shaky hand and grabbing one of the small containers. Written into the wood below the emblem of the Kingdom of Mendev was a name and rank, “Tylan Varsorian, Sergeant-at-Arms.”

He gently lifted the lid, and looked sorrowfully upon the brilliant silver medal kept within, nestled among velvet, the coat of arms of Sergeant Varsorian’s knightly order emblazoned across its face. Aerik carefully lifted and looked over the small trinket.

This had been one of his men, someone with a family, people who loved him. And he had died at Iz, on Aerik’s orders. The body hadn’t been recovered, and so this was all that could be done for his loved ones back home.

Normally the Quartermaster, Wilcer Garms, would handle this sort of thing, but Aerik felt he had a personal responsibility to each and every one of those crusaders he ordered to early graves.

He placed the medal back into its box and softly closed the lid before placing it on his desk, adjacent to a quill and ink.

Aerik took up and began dipping the quill, tapping the excess off into the jar.

He placed pen to parchment and began, “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Varsorian, this letter is to inform you of the death of Sergeant Tylan Varsorian. Your son was slain in honourable combat fighting for both Mendev and all mortalkind. Sergeant Varsorian did his duty admirably, and has been posthumously awarded the Order of Mendev for distinguished service to the crusade. May Iomedae Bless You. Signed, Aerik Arnulfsson, Knight-Commander of the 5th Mendevian Crusade.”

Sealing the letter with his personal crest and placing it atop the medal, Aerik carefully stowed the whole box away in the large chest labelled “Kenabres.”

He then took another piece of parchment, another box, and began writing again.

For several hours Aerik wrote letters to mothers, fathers, siblings, sons and daughters, explaining how their family members had fallen in battle. Fallen on his orders.

By the end, his hand was shaking and sore from writing hundreds of letters. Aerik had considered joining his companions in drinking, to wash away these sorrows in cheap Drezen beer, but decided against it. He must remember these names, these soldiers who had so faithfully followed his command, even to their deaths, so that they may be honoured for all time.

And thus Aerik continued, even as the orange of dawn spread over the horizon he would not relent, and after his personal signature was written into each letter to be sent to unaware friends and families, only then did Aerik sleep, thinking of those back home who had entrusted him with their loved one’s lives.

He hoped they could forgive him some day. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59660185