#two people who've been left behind in one way or another and struggle to open themselves up to or really trust anyone else

[blackkatmagic]

Just gotta tell you that it is breaking my heart to know that A'Sharad has been a captive for who knows how long, with his captors choosing a name that will hurt him (did they do it on purpose? Choose a name that will not only inspire fear but also hurt their captive, when they already have so much leverage to hurt him. When they further trampe the name of the Tuskens, when A'Sharad has never been anything but a Tusken).

There are very few characters I project more soft than hurtful headcanons on. A'Sharad is one of them. Him having to fight for his life against Anakin, the way the handled the bigotry that's been thrown at him all his life, how he still chose to believe in the good of Anakin (believing he would feel guilty and tell the truth to the council) even after Anakin gloated to him about murdering babies. How after all that he came to the conclusion that it was him that needed to change, that he had to take off his mask (his face for the world really) to be treated humanly. It just broke something in me.

And now he is there, chained up like an animal in a cellar that he couldn't escape even if he had the opportunity (because how when the real shackles are the two small children, when he has no healthy legs to carry them out with him), starved and bruised and finally feeling hope again. Allowing himself to grasp onto it, because now it is real, because Agen is there.

Agen who is unfaltering and steady and loyal. Who has found him in this unlikely place. Who has promised to save them. Who will not do the practical thing and leave A'Sharad behind. Even if A'Sharad is so thin that he can see the bones in his arms, even if A'Sharad has no idea if his legs will carry him at all. Even if Mandalorians are coming.

Because for all that they both despised the saying, there was a reason that Agen was viewed as the councils attack dog. Because once Agen had set his mind to something, he was like a dog with a bone. Who followed the orders he was given without ever faltering, without ever needing an explanation (in front of others) for what he was to do. Who was sensitive to the slightest changes around him, even if he couldn't always discern why there was change. Who tried his best to help in any way he could, no matter who needed it. Who was protective of anyone under his responsibility. Who was a council member, acutely aware of his responsibility. To the world around them and to the order.

There is a Jedi on Taris.

And he has come to save A'Shard.

...can you tell that I love both Agen and A'Sharad so so much? Eastward is breaking my heart and I love it. I am so emotionally invested in this fic. And the thought that another Jedi inspired the hope in A'Sharad that used to bloom everywhere in the galaxy when the order was still open and thriving.

A'Sharad is one of the characters who gives me the most emotions, even with all of the many characters in SW who deserved better. I think it's especially jarring because canon never acknowledges that he deserves better, in a way that's deeply depressing. And he's always paid back for his faith in the very worst ways, from Ki-Adi-Mundi to Dark Woman to Anakin to even XoXaan when he meets her. And the fact that he falls to the Dark Side over guilt from what Anakin did, when Anakin turned around and vaguely sort of said sorry and became a peaceful Force ghost....idk man. It just hurts.

That said! I was very much going for that exact vibe with Agen and A'Sharad's meeting - Agen's been struggling, but A'Sharad has quite literally lost all hope because of what happened to put him in that cell. All he has left are the two kids who make it impossible to escape, and then Agen appears, exactly like a Jedi would in a story kids on Tatooine would tell.

Agen and A'Sharad here are both people who've struggled with their own identities and their places as Jedi, but Agen is just...generally steadier and less. Hm. Cerebral? I think that's the word. He trusts the Force and his place in it more easily than A'Sharad, at least partially because he had T'ra as a master instead of the world's worst tag-team by Ki-Adi-Mundi and Dark Woman. So there's backstory between the two of them, and lots of feelings about Being Jedi, and Agen is probably the absolute best possible person to rescue A'Sharad.

(I will say that A'Sharad has not been there for as long as you may think, at least. It's still bad, but not quite as bad as it could be.)

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 3

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Saelhen and Looseleaf, having acquired a band of allies to keep them safe on their entirely bogus quest to fulfill "Lady Noeru's" succession rite on behalf of the college, set out on Suika Highway towards the jungles of Thunderbrush. On the road, they face two extremely deadly combat encounters.

After checking in on the writhing hellpit they opened in Yoshimimoto Plaza (it's under control, they threw some nets over it), the party heads out onto the highway. Customs by the overland roads couldn't give less of a damn what they're bringing out of the city, so there's no scrutiny and they're well on their way.

A good thirty miles or so into the grassland, and the party has to make a perception check. Looseleaf is the one to nail it- her antennae pick up on a suspicious rustling in the tall grass by the side of the road. And even those with slightly worse rolls notice...

There's a green dragon circling lazily in the sky above them. This is bad, because dragons are... well, chromatic dragons like this green one are malevolent and extremely deadly giant monsters, is the main reason, but the other reason is that dragons are... cursed, is what the common understanding is.

To speak with a dragon is to be condemned to some sort of great misfortune, brought about by your own hand. You know the Simurgh from Worm? Listen to its song for too long, and you become sort of a sleeper agent of self-destructive carnage? It's like a diet version of that. Whatever path your conversation with the dragon puts you on, it's invariably bad for you, somehow. The metallic dragons, who're ostensibly "good", will still ruin your life in some way just by talking to you, even if your immolation does some good for the world on the way out. Nobody wants to talk to a dragon.

Luckily, they don't have to- this one seems content to circle way up in the sky, not saying a word to them. Instead, they just get attacked by a direwolf and several horrible monsters.

The whole party botches their Arcana rolls to determine what the heck these things are.

Benedict I. (GM): None of you have any idea what these things are. They're small, roughly humanoid, and... they look sort of like they're made of mud and tangled grass. They're wielding knives, some multiple knives to a hand, and they look vaguely ethereal, not quite real- possibly animated by something. The dire wolf is, of course, charging you- and the other monsters are following suit. They screech and hiss with obvious hostile intent. Roll initiative!

The party dismounts from their giraffes, since they're not trained for combat and the party isn't trained in mounted combat.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Ruffians," she mutters, with the approximate tone a non-elf might use to say "fuckers."

The party's two new melee combatants take up position in the front, while Vayen... stands behind the giraffes, doing nothing. The direwolf lunges, closes in, and... misses entirely, as Oyobi dodges gracefully out of the way. Razzafrazzin' elves...

Then it's Orluthe's turn, and he...

Benedict I. (GM): Orluthe looks around nervously- not at the wolves, but at the party. "Don't... tell anyone about this," he says, and pulls something from his pack. It's a warball helmet. Custom-forged. Looseleaf: Uh. Okay? Is what Looseleaf thinks, in response to this. Benedict I. (GM): I... don't think either of you two would have the context to know what this means, but Oyobi's jaw is on the floor. Looseleaf:Didn't realize that playing warball was apparently something to be ashamed of! Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Your weird secret is safe with me," whispers Saelhen, in the bushes. Benedict I. (GM): Orluthe dons the helmet, and as he does so, he seems to grow larger. There's a shift in his stance, and you hear a growl from beneath the helmet. He howls- and Zero, you're in control of his combat actions here. So what's he do?

Hm.

Orluthe(?) goes ahead and attacks with his halberd, and- being a paladin- opts to SMITE. He impales the thing and burns its wound with divine magic for more than half its health- and then Oyobi's turn comes up and she slices the thing open with her longsword. The party's choice of allies specialized in melee fight seems to be paying off!

Of course, now the other monsters get to take their turn, being unfortunately still alive. One charges at Orluthe and whiffs, but the other... uses some sort of crude slingshot, and hurls some sort of crackling ball of energy at Looseleaf.

Benedict I. (GM): Being hit by this thing suddenly makes you seize up. You remember... Looseleaf, tell me about a time you wanted some physical object very very badly, but didn't get it. Something it hurt you to not have. Looseleaf: Once, when Looseleaf was young, there was a traveling caravan that brought into town a collection of what looked like books for sale. Looseleaf being herself, she of course wanted to buy some of them- but nobody in town would let her go near the vendor! Something about 'inappropriate for young childrens' eyes' and 'mature content warnings'. To this day she's still more than a bit resentful of that, and also she has no idea that the traveling caravan vendor was actually selling basically porn mags. Her memories are interspliced with imaginary counterfactual ideas of what might have been in those books, which are almost certainly not at all what the books actually contained. Benedict I. (GM):You remember that incident, vividly. All that emotional pain, compressed into a single instant of agonizing desire. It leaves you momentarily short of breath, and you take three psychic damage.

Looseleaf attempts to retaliate, but scores, um... a critical failure.

Luckily, that's the last thing these monsters have go right for them- the next few turns are a barrage of successful attacks and AoOs from the party's heavy hitters. Orluthe cuts one in half, provoking a disturbingly human-sounding ghostly wail as it dies. Saelhen throws a dagger from her hiding place in the grass, and...

Benedict I. (GM): Nice! The second dagger takes off this thing's head. It hits the ground with a squelch, and there's another human cry of agony. farnham: "HAH," goes what must be a very large and triumphant and majestic bird in the brush.

As soon as the combat is over, Orluthe returns to normal, and the dragon circling overhead... just flies away, apparently losing interest. Wonder what that's about.

Looseleaf attempts to Soul Read the corpses to learn more about why they were attacked, but unfortunately... the wolf corpse doesn't remember anything unusual that stood out to the spirits of its decaying body parts, and the spirits of the mud and grass left behind by the other monsters only recall being uprooted from the ground and forced to attack people- the spirits animating them seem to be gone.

They are able to figure out what those things were, though- they were Greed Echoes- some sort of evil spirits that echo strong emotions they encountered, and form homunculus bodies with which to act on those emotions. Greed Echoes like these were probably leftover from highwaymen and bandits who've attacked travelers on this road before- playing out their ugliest intentions.

It's weird, though- these are the grasslands, not the mountains. Monsters like these tend to come up out from below mountains, so it's not too common to see so many of them this far from where they spawn.

-

Moving on, the party reaches a point where the wild grasses suddenly stop, replaced by a uniform tall green grass- corn, apparently. Cornfields mean farmers, and farmers mean civilization.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "How delightfully rustic." Benedict I. (GM): It's not much longer before you see buildings down the road- it looks like the center of a farming village. There's a sign, as you enter the town- "WELCOME TO CORN". Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...how rustic."

They roll into town and notice not much of interest- it's a pretty standard farming village, with a Temple of Diamode (the hypertraditionalist family-values goddess Orluthe claims to be a cleric of), an inn (apparently very busy, with a lot of people going between it and the temple), and a branch of the Deathseekers' Guild (the adventurers' guild, which is very up-front about how dangerous it is to fight monsters as a career).

Orluthe looks a little nervous around the temple, so they head first to the inn. They enter, and they're immediately met with a riot of colors. The inn is packed with halflings in fancy outfits. Not like, rich people fancy, but down-home farmer fancy. Lots of flower patterns and the like. There's a band playing music in the back, and a bunch of halflings dancing while others chug whiskey and hoot and holler. The human innkeeper is struggling to keep up with all the mugs that need washing.

Discounts are in the cards, though- the bearded guy with the whiskey steins is happy to see out-of-towners joining the celebrations- a very proud father, he is, as his son Merrick was just married. This is the wedding reception, and in his mind, the more the merrier.

He puts forth something of a challenge: his son claims that city folk can't dance, see, and he, a dissenting opinion, wants to demonstrate otherwise. So, if the party can defeat his son and daughter-in-law in a dance-off... he'll pay for the night's stay!

How does a dance-fight work? Exactly the same as a normal combat, except the hit points are made up and the actual stats don't matter. You substitute your performance modifier on your rolls! Maybe you have a battleaxe, so you roll to attack with your battleaxe, and what that really means is you're doing a wild swinging dance move that really wows the crowd.

Enemies, meanwhile, know different "dance styles", inspired by CR-appropriate monsters I picked out of the monster manual to non-literally fight in a nonlethal dance battle. The happy couple are a pair of Duergar warriors, squaring off against the party's two squishies.

(3:06)

The combat is- well, there's not much to it, just a bunch of back-and-forth attack rolls, ultimately decided by clever use of flanking and attacks of opportunity. Looseleaf tries her best, but her Performance modifier isn't nearly as high as Saelhen's, as she's not the daughter of Kanzentokai's Dance Emperor. She does do a cool thing where she leaps into the air and does a wing-assisted pirouette thing, but all that accomplishes is taking her out of the fight for a bit- and concentrating fire on Saelhen.

Their rolls are pretty bad for a while, but things turn around once they outmaneuver their foes and pull off some attacks of opportunity.

Benedict I. (GM): So, you two- describe your combo dance move that totally floors these two. With musical accompaniment, s'il vous plait Looseleaf: okay you know how in ballet there's a move that's, like, one dancer picks up the other dancer and hoists them in the air turns out that move is a lot more effective if the lifting dancer literally has wings. Saelhen du Fishercrown: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRoWiTcO7dk Saelhen gladly lifts Looseleaf, and for good measure gives her a little acrobatic toss and flips her in midair, catching her on the drop. Looseleaf: just to add insult to injury, looseleaf uses a whole conjunction of her fancy-schmancy special effects spells- minor illusion to create the effect of golden butterflies flapping around themselves, druidcraft alongside her wingbeat to scatter a bunch of her seeds and have them bloom into flower instantly Saelhen du Fishercrown: She's breathing heavily but... actually enjoying herself, despite the obvious competitive streak motivating all this. Looseleaf: it's a lot of visual spectacle on top of the move itself, and that's what puts the icing on the cake. Benedict I. (GM): There's raucous applause from the audience, and Aridrey is beginning to flag. She laughs, and- it's all she can do to keep up with Merrick, who's himself starting to have trouble keeping up.

(Meaning, while she's still his dance partner, she's "out", and no longer a battlefield presence.) Merrick, wifeless, tries to counterattack, and...

...makes the mistake of trying to copy their moves.

Benedict I. (GM): He hoists Aridrey above his head, and tries to spin her around the same way, and... they've been dancing all day, they're tired, and this is their first real attempt to improvise. "Wh- Merrick, wait-" Saelhen du Fishercrown: MERRICK I'M SO SORRY Benedict I. (GM): And she collapses on top of him, to laughter from everyone, particularly his dad. Saelhen du Fishercrown: (saelhen stifles giggles extremely well because a noble lady would never)

The battle seems more or less over, but Merrick is determined to see this through- breaking into a furious solo jig that puts the floor in grave danger of scuffing. None of his efforts land attacks, though- ultimately, Saelhen finishes the fight by delivering the ultimate humiliation- successfully copying his moves, a storm of fancy footwork. When the dust clears, the jig... is up.

Benedict I. (GM): His father laughs. "What'd I tell you, son? Don't get a big head, aye?" He slaps five gold pieces down on the counter. "Get 'em some rooms, Jonnem!" Merrick... he's been thoroughly humiliated, and doesn't take Saelhen's hand at first. Then Aridrey comes over and pulls him to his feet. "C'mon, honey. Grace, right?" Merrick vibrates for a moment, then lets out a sigh. He goes to shake your hand. "...Ffffffffine dancing," he says. Looseleaf: "That was a lot of fun!" Looseleaf is vibrating like crazy. Just hopping all over the place, like she hasn't quite gotten the dance bug out of her system yet.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: ("For what it's worth, man," she whispers, letting her gracious victor's smile collapse into a slightly shit-eating kind of grin. "That could've gone either way.") Benedict I. (GM): Meanwhile, Oyobi and Orluthe... I was going to say the outcome of their match would match yours, and I guess I'll stick to that, but Orluthe does not know how to dance, and Oyobi is drunk as hell. Orluthe may not know how to dance, but he knows how to hold on for dear life, and keep Oyobi vaguely upright as she flails around wildly. It's probably for the best that Saelhen's attention was elsewhere, because she would not have been able to keep a straight face at Oyobi's scandalous dance moves. Whatever's going on over there, the crowd is loving it- so all together, that's another 400 XP divided four ways.

With that victory, the party gets to stay the night for free. The next morning, they report the Greed Echo encounter and the dragon to the local Deathseekers' Guild (getting 10gp for their trouble, and turning a profit on this pit stop.) And with that... it's back on the road to Thunderbrush, next time!