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WAYFINDER’S CODEX 5: Sundusk Matchbox
This one's mostly silly but it definitely has a variety of uses, hopefully leading to a lot of variety as you run down your matches over the course of one or more adventures.
Definitely not quite as fantasy as an ancient blade or wondrous spellbook but I hope it finds it's place!
If you enjoy posts like this, you can find a brand new item every week on Fridays at 12:00 EST (usually) on my Ko-Fi! Please follow and consider donating @ https://ko-fi.com/smoothiewrites
#dnd#dungeons and dragons#homebrew#ko fi#ko fi link#valora#wayfinders codex#dnd 5e homebrew#magic item
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"Probably eight months ago, Rick Carter said to me that the MacGuffin is going to be the bane of your existence. And here we are. So we went from the MacGuffin, for which we probably did twenty or thirty mockup designs, to the Codex. And from the Codex, it became something else. And then, eventually, we hit on the Wayfinder."
-- Jamie Wilkinson, prop master of Rise of Skywalker
That does sound like a miserable way to brainstorm a prop. So, at least they had as bad a time making it as I had watching it.
These two unused story ideas for this mysterious object are above-average levels of science-fiction-y for Star Wars:
"In early drafts, the MacGuffin was the kill switch for all First Order tech, constructed over many generations by an Empire-hating alien race."
"The dead-drop box was made at a point in the script development when the Resistance had to secretly pass information...in a capsule left floating in space."
-- both quotes by prop concept designer Matthew Savage
I love the idea of an Empire-hating alien race... maybe Rey could have learned she's actually a blue alien in forced whiteface like Loki in the MCU, and by the end of the movie she sheds her humanity to join the people of Qwanzort.
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An excerpt from the book; A History of the World After & Its Denizens by Noctua Quill
"(Pages from an untitled codex of illustrations recovered from the late Zagan Era, circa 4795, Epoch 341934.) The illuminated lettering around the edges of the pages reads as follows starting from left to right:
[left most vertical] The Abyssal Eden
[bottom horizontal] Mother/Cradle of Sitra Achra
[top and right vertical] The Dreaming Garden of Shaa Edan
Opposing page
[left vertical] The Abyssal Nightmare
[bottom] Edenblight
[right vertical] The Dream of Eden
In the heart of the Eternal City of Shaa Edan, lies the gate to the Dreaming One known as 'Eden', birthmother of our place of darkness, origin point of All That We Know.
When the Fallen found themselves wandering in defeat in the black depths of the Abyss, they knew it would not be long before the corrosive presence of the Slumbering Ones would begin to erode their very being. And so, Lucifer, The First Soul, proved to all why he had been favored so by The Creator, and did bravely besiege unto the Abyssal, Eden, a new world. Eden, who took Its shape of that of a magnificent Garden, was the very one to ask, for its Dreams are composed of the structures of earth and the trees on which it grows. Other Abyssals soon joined Eden's Dream, and together, a new universe sprang forth The First Soul christened "Sitra Achra", the place of darkness, a gesture to defy the place of light, "Korsia". But here were Nine worlds, all different in their personalities and their offerings and their needs, each a result of the collaboration of the somnolent gods. And the Fallen saw that all among the Fallen were disorganized and chaotic, and so the wisest and the most powerful came together to build a hierarchy, one to mock the Heavenly Chorus of the Creator, and prove to them that they were greater for having forsaken the Light of Ein Sof and Its Collective. Thus the Nine Kings crowned themselves to rule over the Nine Circles, starting with King Bael, Master of Things Unseen, Knower of Unknowledge, Ruler of the Lands of Darkness, and Second of the First Be'souled; then there was the Second, King Paimon, the Merchant and Trader of Wants, the Great Shopkeep, and Goldtaker; then the Third King Beleth, Scholar of All Things, Great Lioness of War, Truthsayer and Oracle; The Fourth, King Purson, General Tactician and Cartographer, the Vanguard Explorer, Wayfinder, Hornbearer; The Fifth, King Asmodeus, Engineer of Torment, Devourer of Souls, Chaosforger; The Sixth, King Vine, Ruler of the Blind Depths, Great Navigator of the Void, Stormmaster; The Seventh, King Balam, Antecedent of Alchemy, Librarian of the Forbidden, Lorekeeper; The Eighth, King Zagan; Sovereign of Silence, Ruler of the Glacial and of the Pale Storm, Soundkeeper; and finally the Ninth, the Forgotten One, King Belial, the Invisible, Guardian of the Lost, Outlander. Beneath them were appointed offices of rule; Prince, Duke, Marquis, Earl, Knight, all have their place among the Infernal Court, who govern all Souls of Sitra Achra by birthright, being their founders and custodians.
Alas, these sovereigns are now silenced in no thanks to the Many-Tailed Traitor, their destinies rewritten in the Akashic Terminus, Book of Fate. The thunderous sound of King Purson's Horn unsettled the Slumbering Ones, causing them to stir in their sleep, which affected their Dream of the World After. Whole Verses were overwritten, alterations made to the course of The Great Story. Kings turned on each other like animals, obstreperously bickering over resources and preparations on what was to come. Their Knights fell in defense of them, and soon thereafter, others of their courts. And so it seemed that, one by one, each of the 72 were dismissed from their seats of rule, until only a handful remain, those who now cling to the favor of the False King Joro like burrs. The False King whom I shall not grace with titles of reverence, only those of condemnation as such she is deserving; Usurper, Imposter, Betrayer, Parasite.
In a series of events now known as the Akashic Purge, the first of the Slumbering Ones to stir brought forth a corrupted Dream, and thus sprang the first roots of the plague known as Edenblight, the Nightmare of Eden. The atrocity manifests in the bodies of mortals and the Wild Children, twisting their shape into that which Eden most identifies; trees, tall and alien and not unlike those of the Gates in their size and presence. Formerly, it spread through their Song, the Illusion of Beauty to lure in unsuspecting prey, and through that impregnation of the brain, a Seed will grow and infect the host with feelings of lethargy and false promises of peaceful repose. Once inert, the body will root itself to whatever surface it finds itself on, and henceforth, become one with Eden's Nightmare. The transformation is complete within six Moons, sooner if the infected are left to grasp one another in their despair and their ecstasy, in which they will merge and become one or many, a forest in a perverse Garden of Eden. Not but the Light of Angels and the Touch of a King can halt the spread of the Blight, but the Angel must become as a fixture of the land, and the King must remain diligent in their fight. With Angels in short supply and all Kings absent, the Blight has spread and spreads wider still with conviction anew in the form of Spores, which manifest as a Song in the minds of a host, ever repeating until sung unto others.
Goetia are not immune to the Nightmare. Although more tenacious in their resilience, enough exposure can weaken one's entitled defenses. But once the Song is inside, eventually they will succumb. The touch of a King is said to impede the process, but the world is in desperate need of those to Rule, let alone to Purify."
#haligren's writings#sitra achra#history of the world after#noctua quill#the akashic purge#the akashic terminus#the nine kings#my art#my writing#sitra achra novel
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⭐️⭐️
Let's talk Chiss lore. In this case, I'll discuss specifically the relationship between Chiss and the Force and how it comes into play in the backstory of my Chiss OCs.
I have delved fairly deeply into Chiss Lore in my stories about Miurani'kal'istae and Cip'rys, and right now some of that lore is directly contradicted by the new canon introduced by Timothy Zahn in his new Thrawn novels. So I wanted to talk about how it came about and why I still continue to use it, despite it being contradictory to current canon.
I will begin with the constant theme that Force-Sensitive Chiss are consider anathema and are routinely killed or surgically altered to be unable to use the Force. This is directly contradicted by the new lore about how Force-Sensitive Chiss are utilized by the CEDF as wayfinders, are almost always female, and lose their abilities by the age of thirteen.
In SW:TOR, there is a Codex entry called 'Force-Sensitive Chiss', and it states the following:
Though incredibly rare, the Chiss have produced Force-sensitives among their people. There's a strong stigma against Force-sensitives among the Chiss because many believe it's an impurity or faulty genetics, and must be purged. Most Force-sensitive Chiss work hard to hide their shameful abilities. When a Force-sensitive is discovered in the Ascendancy, the consequences depend on the individual's social standing and family lineage. A lower-class Chiss is exiled from the Ascendancy, while a social elite may be allowed to use a combination of surgery and medication to keep their powers dormant. Any Chiss caught practicing or weaponizing the Force within Ascendancy territory is executed without question. Chiss wishing to hone their skills must leave their families behind and take their chances with the Sith or Jedi.
I have bolded the relevant part.
When I began writing my SW:TOR fanfiction, it was long before the first of the new Thrawn novels by Mr. Zahn. Before the new Thrawn novels were produced, the ONLY Chiss lore from any official (or official-esque) source was from SW:TOR, the original Thrawn/Thrass novels, a variety of magazine articles, and the original Star Wars RPG. Therefore, every piece of lore that I had to use to develop my backstories and Kal'istae's continuing story (which ties so heavily back to the Ascendancy) came from those sources.
The reason I continue to use this lore rather than rewrite everything to conform to the new canon is because, frankly, this is 3,000 years in the past. Things change. It makes absolute sense that by the time, 3,000 years later, we meet Che'ri, the Chiss have come to accept the use of the Force and their constant genocide against Force-Sensitive Chiss has altered the genome that determines Force-Sensitivity so it only surfaces in female Chiss within a certain age-bracket and suppresses itself once they reach a certain age.
And, honestly, it's really great lore that allows for a variety of backgrounds for my Chiss Inquisitor (half-breed Chiss/Pureblood, enslaved by her father), Chiss Knight (given to a Sith warlord by her parents as a force-slave until she was freed by a Corellian Green Jedi), and Chiss Consular (smuggled out of the Ascendancy as a child by Cip'rys's family and given to the Jedi) - as well as allowing me to build a richly tragic backstory for my Chiss Smuggler (family exterminated for treason, with her the only survivor).
This is, of course, only a small fraction of the Chiss lore that I expound upon in my fanfiction. Most of it is taken from official(esque) sources as written pre-New Thrawn, but a little bit of it is made up whole-cloth because, frankly, we knew next to nothing about the inner workings of the Ascendancy until the new novels came along.
And some of what I wrote is actually now canon - even though I wrote it before the new books came out. So yay for that!
Original Ask Meme
Thank you for the ask! If anyone is interested in more of my Chiss lore interpretations/uses, please feel free to ask. I love to discuss Chiss lore.
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[[The following is written in a cipher. The symbols are inspired by an old mariners’ codex known only to the Wayfinders of Misthaven.]]
Rumors abound regarding how Valeriu Khorshid secured the throne of Archmage. Many of those rumors are of the salacious variety. This is of no surprise, given the nature of the Fae. The nature the Fae. Their nature. His nature. Duplicitous. Manipulative. Powerful. Beautiful. Their kind employs these natural ‘gifts’ to exert control over the unsuspecting. Indeed, even those privy to such machinations may find themselves fallen prey to a particularly gifted Fae – and there are few as gifted as the Archmage of Amorium. The amount of danger he poses cannot be exaggerated. Beyond his skill in manipulation and trickery, of which must be noted, Valeriu Khorshid’s mastery over the element of fire is said to be immaculate, whole, and unrivaled. The element is tied into the man’s very scent; that of embers and ash, that of heat and flame. Magic is a vile and wicked force. Those who wield it cannot be trusted, but I would be remiss in failing to mention the political heft the Archmage has behind him. I am given to believe that the moths I’ve witnessed flitting about during political gatherings are, in fact, under Fae control – if not Fae themselves. I’ve summarily directed my agents to remain mindful of the creatures and, if necessary, to discreetly destroy them if and when they are certain no ramifications will be born from the act. As it is, we are at a stalemate with the damned Unseelie. I’ve been forced to parlay with the Fae, with the Archmage in particular. He is… vexing – unlike any creature I’ve encountered. I am aware of his charms; I pray that awareness is enough that I may maintain some manner of immunity. I’ve considered reaching out to the Order of the Talon Knights in a bid to secure a stipend of Ash-stone. I have my doubts they would be amenable to such a request. I have my doubts they would read any correspondence written by my hand. More likely to toss the letter into the kiln, I imagine. Such an act would not be worth it. I no longer hunger for the stone as I once did; no matter the immunity and mastery over magic it might grant me – I cannot succumb. I am strong enough to weather the wiles of a single Fae. Archmage though he may be.
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My main issue(s) with KH3
Spoilers abound, so please don’t read if you haven’t beaten the game or don’t want any negative opinions influencing how you see the ending/ the game. I did enjoy several parts of KH3, but this post is focused on things I had issues with, and if you don’t want to see criticism of your media please look elsewhere.
This is how I interpreted the game as someone coming into KH3 with KH2 being the last game I played, and a playlist of youtube videos spanning lets plays, summaries, and humorous deconstructions as a codex.
Here’s the thing. I’ve seen several people already break down how KH3′s story and pacing could have been handled better. Specifically, to more comprehensively tie in the 10,000 plot points that needed to be covered in a way that actually helps connect the main characters. I’m not going to get into all of that, because frankly I can’t fake knowing enough about the background lore of Kingdom Hearts to know how to better juggle all of the intermediary games into KH3.
Most of my grievances honestly lie with the handling of the Destiny Trio and the Disney Worlds.
I’m going to do a read more on this because it’s gonna be a long one. (Also very much a train of thought, so disorganized, sorry).
So. Sora. Protagonist of the game (mostly. kind of?).
A cheerful ray of sunshine.
A Keyblade wielder who has overcome traumatizing ordeals that tore him away from all he loved and knew at least twice now for over three years.
A continuity disaster stuck being pinballed back and forth between happy goofs and hollow tragedies every thirty minutes in between busywork battles and off-scene disney films for 85% of KH3.
I understand that Sora’s greatest power is supposed to be his optimism, as it’s sort of the prerequisite for going through disney worlds where people sing about their problems. I get it.
However, there’s a difference between, “I’m naive and happy and oblivious and that’s why I’m a guardian of the light,” and “I have battled true darkness and felt true loss and decided that choosing to be kind, choosing to embrace joy in new experiences and relationships, is a bigger middle finger to the darkness than anything else.” Guess which one I prefer. Guess which one I was thinking would finally be Sora’s character arc. Instead he’s happy, happy, happy, happy... and then suddenly in the eleventh hour having a mental breakdown.
Sora is written into a loop every game of kind, naive, but unchanging (”Don’t ever change, Sora”). That was endearing when we were both 14, but after almost twenty years it gets tiring to watch Sora get hit with a reset button every time you meet up with him again. There’s a scene in the gummi ship early on in the games where Donald asks Sora to “take this seriously,” and Goofy remarks that they seem to be stuck in a rut as Donald and Sora have the same conversation over and over again before entering the first series of Disney worlds. Sora knows he needs the power of waking in order to help his friends and free those trapped in his heart, but seems content to just drop into various worlds and wing it, and hope that it all sort of works out.
And then when it does work out, and Sora uses the power to save everyone, he’s immediately told he’s doomed now? Like, what was the point of him being able to use this to connect with people if he’s doomed. Why did they want him to have this. What’s the point then of Sora having these strong connections.
Each world makes a big scene about the friendships and connections that Sora makes so easily, but in KH3 there never seems to be enough time for Sora to actually pay them any attention unless the person is right in front of him. Sora seems to make connections for the sake of making connections in KH3, and the ones he has, he does very little to advance or reconnect with.
Like, the whole point of 100 Acre Wood this time was apparently that Sora’s connection to Pooh was weaker for some reason. I honestly didn’t understand the reason or how it was magically resolved just from Sora showing up and saying hi? But whatever.
My two least favorite worlds were Corona and Arendelle, for the same reason. There was no believable connection between Sora and the characters there. For fuck’s sake, the combat ally you get in Arendelle is the snow monster, not even a main character.
Sora is like the living embodiment of the B99 clip of Rosa with her dog. He just met Elsa and spoke a whopping five sentences to her, but damn if he won’t climb a mountain five times just for her to save herself without ever talking to him again. Like, literally that is the only interaction Sora has with Elsa. Same thing with Anna, and in her case I literally had to mute my tv so I could track what she was actually saying since they decided to shove two songs from the movie into this game.
You spend the majority of your time in these worlds trying to play catch up to the leads as they have their movie play out around the bend in the road in front of you, out of your sight. Props to Disney’s ego that they think I remember the beat by beat plots of their films when they came out 9 years ago (Tangled) and 6 years ago (Frozen). I actually had the thought of going and watching Tangled just to remember what Flynn and Rapunzel got up to while Sora wandered around a marsh and had a pointless conversation with Marluxia.
(Also, getting real tired of the “Good to see you Sora” “Who the fuck are you?” “Oh that’s right you don’t remember that game haha it’s fine it was a gameboy game nobody even knows what those are anymore.” That shit was getting old midway through KH2.)
To be fair, the PoTC world suffers from the same problem as the other two. Sora shows up, sees everyone for thirty seconds, gets separated, and while we’re dicking around trying to find white crabs on the islands there’s a whole movie going on that we don’t see or participate in. I feel really bad for anyone who did not keep up with that franchise because I only watched the third movie the once and I was confused as hell. Also, the whole time I was finding the crabs in Port Royal all I could think about was this ProZD video.
I just. I’m 26 years old. These movies hold no nostalgia for me, and maybe that’s the problem. I already had a connection to Aladdin, Peter Pan, etc, so I was maybe more willing to suspend my disbelief and just enjoy the interactions. But those Disney worlds also felt more tied in to the plot. You can make the argument of Marluxia and Larxene putting pressure on Sora to find the Wayfinders so that six princesses of heart aren’t used as backup... but where are the other three? Anna, Elsa, Rapunzel, and Kairi make four. Where’s Merida, Tiana, Moana? Mulan or Pocahontas even, since Moana was probably too recent. (But probs not, as it was probably starting development in 2014). If that’s going to be yet another subplot, shouldn’t you at least see it through?
My point is, I can distinctly recall prior games mostly keeping to the established script in the disney worlds, but still letting Sora really get in there and interact with the characters. The heartless, nobodies, etc were a real wrench in the works for the plots, and had an actual effect on how the story was told and the order of events. Sora felt more involved in cutscenes and was an active participant in the world’s events instead of just a bystander.
In KH1 and KH2 there was a dialogue happening between the villain of each world and a greater evil. Hell, in KH1 they were a unified council! In KH3 they’re puppets who don’t even talk to the bigger bad like Randall or Mother Gothel, or are there for a whopping thirty seconds like Hans. It makes it more and more obvious that the Disney worlds are just being shoehorned in as a contractual obligation than for any real purpose anymore.
The only world that’s appeared in all three games, Olympus, was especially jarring. Like, you could tell there was a lot of corners cut on what VAs they could get for this game, as Phil does not speak once. Meg spends more time making eyes at Hercules and nodding than showing any of the sass she has from the film. (This was a thing in KH2 as well tho so I can’t complain about them continuing to drop the ball on even background women characters-- Oh wait, I can, because they’ve had T H I R T E E N YEARS to get it right.)
Which I guess is as good a segue as any into Kairi Time.
Listen. Did I mention I’m 26? Yeah. I started reading fanfic on livejournal. I was there when AO3 first got its start. I’ve seen the shipping wars. I know the dark past of Soriku vs Sokai.
I couldn’t give less of a fuck.
These characters are still 16 and I am now 26. I’m fine with them trading noogies and maybe being able to kick back and play some Mario Kart. Kairi would wipe the floor with both of them because she had time to get good enough to beat Tidus, Wakka, and Selphie combined between KH1 and KH2.
The point is, I don't care one way or the other about shipping. If my 15 year old self were here, they would be horrified I wasn't over the moon when Kairi and Sora finally shared the paopu fruit. As it is, I kind of stared blankly at my screen and went 'huh, there's gonna be a lot of fanfic fixing this moment.' From both sides, I think, because even if you're into Sokai you gotta admit that moment did not feel romantic. It felt forced. Like "Oh hey, we've been putting this off, huh. Welp, here we go!"
It doesn't help that I really, truly, don't like whoever Kairi's VA is in this game. Like, she sounds so ditzy and soft. Get that shit out of here. The dialogue and voice acting in this series has never been its strength, but honestly, I cringed my way through every interaction between Kairi and Axel because of how stilted and bad their conversations were! I’m definitely not saying that Kairi’s voice was stellar in 1 and 2, but at least her voice was clear, and had personality, and by the end of 2 was actually fairly strong. She sounded strong, and determined to be fighting with Sora and Riku, green as she was then, in the World That Never Was.
Whenever she talked in the third one I just sort of grit my teeth and wondered why someone on the production team wanted Kairi to sound so weak.
Then they killed her at the labyrinth and I said, ‘Ah, that tracks.’
I played FFXV, so I guess shame on me for not seeing the signs when the girl love interest is about to be capable and not needing the hero to save her. She gets taken! And killed. Fool me twice, shame on me.
I actually saw people excited about that Verum Rex thing and after seeing the Noctis ripoff reaching for the Luna ripoff covered in purple light I laughed, and laughed. And then sighed and reached for a stiff drink.
All this to say that while I’m angry but not truly surprised that Kairi was once again shafted, I’m all the more pissed that they did it in the laziest, most insulting way possible by hinging it all on Sora needing a reason to fight Xehanort. Like, really???? Really. That’s your angle. The man-pain trope is so painfully overdone. Please. It’s 2019. Come into the future with us, Nomura.
And I feel bad that all of the stuff I just wrote mostly revolves around Kairi being Sora’s romantic interest. But that’s because that’s all this game allowed her to be! Princess of light what? Bequeathed Keyblade wielder in her own right who??? Every battle she and Axel share with Sora they get their asses kicked in 30 seconds flat, so maybe Merlin should have left them suspended in time a little longer. Maybe long enough to convince someone out there in the universe that these two deserved to be competent.
Hell, not just competent. Amazing. Kairi deserved to be able to stand on her own two feet and hold her own. To be running alongside her boys and not just be an object for them to tussle over or save. As Aqua’s somewhat successor, she deserved to be a terrifying wielder of battle magicks and flurries of light magic.
To be replaced by Xion was just insult to injury. Like, I’m very happy that Xion got her heart back and was reunited with Roxas and Axel, but she didn’t need to be brought back at Kairi’s expense. The world won’t implode if the replica and actual person inhabit the same space.
Which is leads us to our third member.
Riku. To be fair. Riku got the most growth as a person out of the three of these kids, easy. We finally see a Riku who is confident in himself and his journey, and willing to take everything he learned along the way to help Mickey, Aqua, and even his own replica. However....
He doesn’t seem to give two shits about Kairi anymore? Did they even talk, like, once during the whole game? I can’t recall a single instance where Sora, Kairi, and Riku were in the same place together where it was just them, and they held an actual conversation. Hell, where they even said “Hi, how’s it going? What have you learned, had any good food lately?”
God, even when Kairi was taken, and then when she was killed, Riku had one moment of anger, and then was completely, like, chill again, and back to talking Sora down. Like, what? I don’t want any love triangle bullshit, but Riku and Kairi were friends as much as Sora and Kairi and Sora and Riku are friends.
And that’s what bothered me the most about the disappearance of Kairi introducing this bullshit narrative of Sora abusing his power of waking. He spent two games trying to get him, Riku, and Kairi together. But he doesn’t want Riku to help him get Kairi back? And Riku’s just going to let him go?! After all Riku has done and learned about falling to darkness and clawing yourself back to light and peace, he’s just going to let Sora do the same?
I call bullshit.
And this is why when Sora suddenly faded out of view on the beach next to Kairi I slowly leaned back in my chair, dropped my controller into my lap, and flipped off my tv screen with both hands.
#vent#kh3 spoilers#kh3#writing criticism#give these kids the happy ending they deserve#they can be paired in any combo you want#but let them be happy
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The Wayfinders - Codex no. 37 Priests of the Triunity, standing out as Uingus with their wings removed. Not to be confused with those Uingu who brought shame to their tribes. The only way to find the City of Grief within the Twisting Barrens, is by finding the Wayfinders. Sounds easy enough, until you've wandered the deserts for 38 days and every hallucination now looks like one. Some show you the way, other lead you astray, keep your grief close and you'll find your city soon enough.
#evania#fantasy#fantasy universe#twisted barrens#uingu#bird#bird people#owl#owlman#kofml#art#artbykof#digital art#digital drawing#desert#city#grief#wayfinder
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“Chunk Mercer-1…”
The stale blue letters flickered across the lens of the modified targeting eyepiece, blinking once before vanishing into the digital aether. Navigation through the Detritus Ring was notoriously difficult, even for those among the Rogues. The ramshackle band of scrap was defined only as much as its inhabitants cared to identify its ��chunks”, the various piece of salvage, debris, and rock large enough to inhabit. The vast majority of Ringspace was unmapped, home to no-names, disreputables, and those strange breeds who found themselves compelled to hermitage even amongst the Rogues. Some chunks were single-occupant domiciles, drifting life-pods or caverns carved into the cold recesses of asteroidal rock; others were barracks and communes, stations housing squadrons and families.
The Mercer, once a private short-range hauler, had long since been converted to a launch bay. Where there had been escape pods, there were now temporary living quarters; the cargo hold, once a labyrinth of shipping containers, now concealed a scrapping operation and VR sim-pods for networked training exercises. Along the principal halls, its vaulted corridors were honeycombed with retrofitted fuel lines and anchor points for the fleet of personal craft the Rogues encased within the arterial steel corridors.
Gustav landed his ship, little more than a glorified lifeboat with maneuvering gear, in the first open bore in the ship’s hull he could find. After disembarking, a quick hand gesture conjured an expectant icon on his HUD, awaiting a voice command.
“Wayfind, Chunk Mercer-1, Deck C, aft promenade.” As he spoke, the display sparked his words into converted text and registered the command.
“Wayfinding…”
A moment later, a waypoint sprang into view on the digital map module of the display, and the eyepiece overlayed his vision with a faint blue beam of light drawing a crawling path in real-time to his destination. He walked determinedly through the halls, the computer rapidly outlining and identifying the ships attached to grav-clamps crudely integrated into Mercer’s frame. Having been repurposed from a piece of equipment intended for rapid threat assessment and analysis, some of its deeper instinctual elements had been difficult to rework. While he had managed to stymie the flood of target-acquisition information it was intended to output, it now steadily streamed a brook of whatever it could hastily pull from environmental cues and holonet records.
“Designation: Belt Knuckle. Status: Offline. Class: Interceptor…”
“Designation: Gunwhale. Status: Offline. Class: Gunship…”
“Designation: The Laughing Solvent. Status: Offline. Class: Custom…”
Each ship’s name appeared with an expandable ellipsis, which Gustav knew, when selected, would occlude his eye with a paragraph of text detailing the ship’s captain, most recent crew, and notable missions, as well as a suite of other technical specifications. He didn’t have time for others’ names right now. He was about to make his own.
Gustav had been with the Rogues for 2 Codex-standard years, making use of his astrogation experience to chart short-distance Tunnel runs for time-sensitive raids, in which light-minutes needed to be calculated and crossed in seconds. Such calculations were impossible for most organics without the use of cybernetic augments that could only be acquired through the LLC. These biotech suites were tracked meticulously along with their organic housings, and in the event of hardware or wetware system failure, reclamation teams could be on-site in an hour.
Through months of infiltration and careful cultivation of the LLC employee database, Gustav had engineered a financial Schwarzschild radius, a region of the payroll from which no information could escape. Once LLC Junior Vice-Accountant Vincenzo de León found himself transferred to the dark department of Gustav’s design, it was a simple matter of kidnapping, harvesting, hacking, and implanting the cortical shunt (or whatever the “surgeon” had called it) into his own body. Had he forgotten what it was like to dream? Sure. Did he occasionally have waking terrors as the simulated voice of de León echoed its feeble cry to be freed from its synaptic prison? Also sure. But no one could deny that Gustav was now better at math than an organic had any right to be, which, depending on the day, some might consider worth paying handsomely for.
He was woken from his reverie by the bright flash of red text across his HUD, “COLLISION IMMINENT”. Before he could refocus his eyes to sift through the transparent gleam of warning, he stumbled into Commander Reyna Valeria. At least, he would have. The photonic ward was instantaneous and unyielding, rippling a short distance from her gauntlet to shove him bodily away as he tripped and fell to his back beside two other waiting crew members. Even though she was shorter than all assembled, her presence somehow towered over them. “You’re supposed to be the navigator, right? I sure as hell hope you navigate better on a ship than you do on your feet.” He mumbled a half-formed apology as the others helped him up.
“Save it, we got work to do.” came her clipped reply. “You’re all here by special request for this mission. Here’s the deal: just outside the Solus system, there’s a derelict whole friggin’ universe. Lights are out, nobody’s home—that means that’s Rogue property waiting to get picked up. The job is simple: recon and retrieval. Y’all are heading through Darkspace beyond the Solus system to a little slice of heaven, maybe you’ve heard of it, Luxverse 25.”
A barrage of meaningful glances were exchanged. The Luxverse terraforming series was hailed by LLC marketing as the 12th-through-36th wonders of the universe. “Yeah, I know. You’re welcome. But you won’t have too much time for sightseeing, you’re there to tag any and everything of value that ain’t nailed down, grab a few samples to make sure the goods are good, and come back. Probably the cushiest milk run of your lives. If the lead is legit, we’ll send out a full squad to take what we can get our hands on. Any questions?”
The woman furthest from Gustav raised a gloved hand.
“Alias: Maven. Race: Human. Age: 22. Known Affiliates: Rogues …”
Reyna fixed her with a brief nod, “Yeah girl, what’s up?” Around Maven’s neck, she wore a rebreather mask attached by a hose to a small pair of tanks at her waist. With deliberate effort, she raised the mask to her mouth before finally speaking. “Darkspace? Really? Is that what we’re calling it?” Her soft voice rasped through the rubber and plastic. After the labor of her question, her shoulders rose high as she took a deep breath from the mask. Reyna’s uncovered eye rolled dramatically. “Don’t put that on me, blame the UPR, as usual. It’s space, it’s dark, Darkspace. You got something better, enlist and let them know. They’re always looking for more smartasses. Any other questions?” Gustav glanced at the others nervously before stepping forward.
“Alias: Reyna. Race: Human. Age: Unknown. Known Affiliates: Rogues, LLC, UPR, Eldrid, Jennerit, Other…”
He blinked and shook his head, clearing his nerves as well as dismissing the HUD overlay to see clearly through the scrolling tide of information. “I…” he faltered, “that is…I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say, um, it’s such an honor to fly with you. Commander.” The others nodded in assent.
Reyna grinned in comic appreciation of the compliment. “Well, aren’t you sweet. Too bad,” she paused as her own eyepiece blinked in minor computation, “Gustav. You aren’t flying with me. I got bigger fish to fry. ‘Bigger than Luxverse 25?’ I hear you thinking. Much, much bigger. But make no mistake, this mission is an important first step to what I got planned. That’s why I’m leaving you in the care of one of my most trusted pilots.”
Maven drew a shuddering breath. “Captain Hightower?” “Not Hightower.” To her left, a ruddy-faced man in a cobbled set of combat armor hazarded a guess, “Captain Shim?”
“Alias: Azef. Race: Jennerit. Age: 51. Known Affiliates: Rogues, Jennerit (exiled)…”
“Shim’s off hitting a UPR shipment of elbow macaroni, couple of Rogue sectors are low in both rations and art supplies.” Gustav’s implant ran a quick sort of available captains, heaps of names scattered, dismissed, and neatly divided into one expanding list of “Inactive/Unavailable” and a rapidly dwindling column of “Active/Available”, until only one remained:
“Active/Available: Captain Dredge”
Gustav gave whispered voice to the text string haunting his right eye, “Dredge.” Azef solemnly looked to the floor as Gustav’s statement hung unopposed in the moment of silence that lingered after his pronouncement. Maven looked from Gustav, to Azef, to Reyna in confusion before finally asking, “Who’s ‘Dredge’?”. Gustav began to express bewilderment at her ignorance of his legendry, paragraphs of text answering her question clouding his viewfinder, when Azef cut him off.
“Captain Dredge. The Blue Baron,” “Terror of the Ring,” Gustav offered. “The Saint of Black.” Azef concluded.
“The Saint of Black?” Maven echoed, sounding breathless with some combination of physical struggle and wonder. “Aye,” Azef continued, his shoulders hunched as he stage-whispered conspiratorially, “they say that he first escaped the LLC with a 6-year-old boy declared brain-dead due to a faulty cerebral augment. In that life, Dredge was a doctor. A Magnus doctor. Carted around from hospital to hospital and dumped into this network or that. No one knows his exact model and version number, but it goes that he was designed for modular integration into a variety of operating systems, on account of all the different computers used across the arcfleet.”
He took a hasty pull from a flask concealed in a mag-pouch on his vest. “When they brought the boy in on account of the failing augment, they sent in Dredge to debug it from the inside. As some sorry twist of fate or perhaps a quirk of the ‘verse’s cruelty, while he was in that poor boy’s brain, the Magna Carta went offline.”
Maven gasped audibly, and adjusted a flow valve on one of her tanks. Undeterred, Azef continued, “Debug it he did, aye, and more. With his vile digital tendrils and the devil’s own code, he reformatted that lad from the ground up, learned in microseconds which neurons to fire to draw breath, to pump blood, to raise a hand, animating the child like a puppet of blood and bone…and by nightfall, three of the LLC’s finest medical technicians were no longer among the living.”
He paused, expectantly, until Reyna herself sighed and obliged him, “You mean he killed them?” He gave a nod of acknowledgment before continuing, “No, killing, that’d be a mercy. What Dredge did was worse by far. With that same dread art by which he was given purpose, he drove a transceiver pylon into the nape of each of their necks, not terribly invasive, but deep enough to entangle with a knot of nerves and override their brains’ own commands to their insubordinate flesh. You see, the transceiver pylon intercepts and transmits signals from the brain to Dredge, who then returns a signal of his own to order the bodies of these poor souls to do his bidding as he sees fit, captives of the corporeal, just like their captor. The only thing in this universe that knows the procedure to safely remove the pylons is Dredge himself. Anyone else so much as tries it, and it’s death at best, the most excruciating agony the body is capable of producing at worst.“
“And so they sail, beneath the Rogues’ banners, under the command of the only woman alive who could curb his lust for vengeance upon us mortals and organics, the Valkyrie’s damnation on demand, pride and scorn of the fleet, the Saint of Black and his Sinners Three aboard ‘The Doomlight’. There are whispers that Captain Valeria, when some among our number get to be too contrary for her taste, consigns the wretches to a tour aboard the Doomlight, what be crewed by the damned and watched o’er by the eyes of the Pit, or of wheresoever such black machinations as Dredge are begotten, to ride into battle on its stormdrive engines, wreaking such havocs as exist no words to describe.” An awed appreciation hovered a moment, until Reyna hastily added, “So they say.” “Aye, so they say.” conceded Azef. “Anyway, yeah. Not Dredge. He’s on leave.” “Oh.” Azef deflated slightly. “No, y’all are in for a treat, I’ve got you someone better. In fact…” she trailed off as four beams of light lanced from somewhere off the deck, forming a blinding Venn diagram of floodlights. Gustav peered over the edge of the promenade into the darkness, disturbed by one erratic mote of illumination. Its maneuvering made it almost impossible to get a lock for analysis. As it resolved into range, his eyepiece finally output:
“Designation: Unknown. Status: THREAT ENGAGEMENT. Class: Corvette/Custom…”
As it silently screamed towards the assembled crew, his image-tracking-and-stabilization software saved him a single frame of crude, hand-formed letters spelling one word across its hull: “Malediction”. Moments later, it slipped into place mere meters above the ground as grav-clamps harpooned into the Mercer’s floor, heaving the ship to the steel as though it was straining to escape. At last, the engines shut off as the cockpit unlatched with a depressurizing hiss. From within came an inhuman roar, the black, blast-proof panes of the hatch straining against something pounding from within. The comms channel was lit up with a staccato burst of distorted audio, “Sorry guys, hang—beast got himself tangled in my seatb—no, you have to let go of the—”. Gustav turned to Reyna and silently mouthed a “what?” as she shrugged. With a deafening slam, the hatch violently erupted, nearly burst off its hinges as a monstrous, floating, horned creature emerged. Its unearthly howl awoke some primordial flight-instinct as it rattled about the chambers of Gustav’s heart.
“AT LAST, I AM UNBOUND.”
As adrenaline surged through him and his pupils dilated in icy panic, the eyepiece meekly presented its findings, as though by bounding the creature in pixelated text, some semblance of safety might be erected behind such vague definitions:
“Alias: Unknown. Race: Guayota. Age: Unknown. Known Affiliates: Unknown…”
Using what appeared to be the creature’s stone ribcage, a teenage girl pulled herself up from the pilot seat. “Yeah, sure pal, relatively speaking. Shut up and help me down, wouldja?” Together, the pair jumped down to the ground in front of the staring crew. Reyna smiled. “Captain Shayne, your crew as requested. Gustav, Navigator. Azef, Operator. Maven, Engineer. Crew, this here is Shayne, your new captain. She’s already one of our most experienced Darkspace pilots, not to mention she has a giant monster for a friend, so I expect you to show her the same respect you’d show me or any of my other pilots. Valkyrie out.” She raised her command gauntlet into the air, sending a stream of energy cascading into the ceiling before teleporting to her own ship.
Not to be outdone, Shayne stalked up and down the line of her small crew from a distance, each wearing an expression of incredulity. She remained silent all the while, as though daring someone to speak. Somehow, she did not carry the same gravitas of Reyna that had effected an aura of resolute respect. Instead, Azef noncommittally rested his arms on his light machine gun, slung at his waist by a strap across the shoulders.
After a minute of uncomfortable examination, Shayne wheeled around in search of something. “Wait wait wait, someone’s missing! Where’s the muscle?” Azef plodded forward, his boots thudding on the ground with ponderous, dramatic steps. “Count Azef, reporting for duty, sir.” Shayne rested her face in her hand exaggeratedly. “Aurox, fetch.” she drawled, lazily pointing Azef’s way. Like a shot, the Guayota spirited to the Jennerit soldier, gripped him in claws like stone tree limbs, and brought him in front of Shayne.
“First off, don’t call me ‘sir’,” “S-sorry, ma’am, meaning no offense.” he stammered. “No, just ‘Shayne’, got it? CAPTAIN Shayne.” “Of course, cap’n, er, Shayne. Captain Shayne.” “Secondly, you’re my operator, not my muscle. If you were who I was looking for, I’d have said so. I’m not blind.” “AAAGH I’M BLIND!” Gustav shouted, as a seething whirl of black and orange descended from some unseen rafter to wrap around his face.
He staggered to maintain his balance as the bundle of arms and cloth and fire obscured his vision, his eyepiece all the while diligently outputting information:
“Alias: Orendi, the Chaos Witch. Age: Unknown. Known Affiliates: Rogues, Other…”
Orendi cackled with manic glee, two of her arms locked around Gustav’s head as she raised the other two in jubilation, “AUROX LOOK LOOK LOOOOK I’M JUST LIKE YOU WHY AREN’T YOU LOOKING?!” She leapt from Gustav’s shoulders, contorting to turn backwards in midair and fire a propulsive burst of black flame. The force of the blast sent her hurtling towards Aurox. She caught one of his great horns, swung around to hang from it by her legs, and began gnawing at his ribs. Shayne chuckled good-naturedly, “Orendi, get down from there, you’ll hurt your teeth! And try and bring it down a little for now, we’re about to head out.” “YAAAYYY!” “Right. Guys, Orendi, Orendi, guys. That’s out of the way, let’s get going. We’re burning daylight, and from what I hear it’s already in short supply where we’re headed.” Gustav rubbed his eye with his palm and turned to Maven. She shrugged and pulled up her rebreather mask to drag a lungful of air, before calmly exhaling, “You heard the captain.”
https://forums.gearboxsoftware.com/t/battleplan-42-3-8-17-wednesday-edition/1557776
#Battleborn#battlebarn#battleborn lore#what the hell is going on there#i think i'm lost#people more people
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THE WAYFINDER'S CODEX 6: BLADE CHARMS
Add a little bit of salt and pepper to your boring old normal weapons with blade charms, starting with these two, Biometric and Eidetic. Not incredibly powerful in most cases but they can be quite a bit of fun if you play with their features.
If you enjoy posts like this, you can find a brand new item every week on Fridays at 12:00 EST (usually) on my Ko-Fi! Please follow and consider donating to my broke ass lol
#dnd#dungeons and dragons#homebrew#ko fi#ko fi link#valora#wayfinders codex#dnd 5e homebrew#magic item
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WAYFINDER’S CODEX 4: The Magician’s Gauntlet
Introducing an item from this series!
I do think there should be more melee casting options (putting bladesinger aside) and this item makes it a little easier for squishy backliners to get personal should they desire some extra power in the heat of battle.
If you enjoy content like this, you can find a brand new item every week on Fridays at 12:00 EST on my Ko-Fi! Please consider donating @ https://ko-fi.com/smoothiewrites
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THE WAYFINDER’S CODEX 7: LANGORA’S BLESSING
Items of divine power are awesome to me, so I hope you enjoy the crown of my goddess of flame and creation!
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#dnd#homebrew#dungeons and dragons#ko fi#ko fi link#valora#wayfinders codex#dnd 5e homebrew#homebrew subclass#magic item
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THE WAYFINDER’S CODEX 8: MOONSHADE BANNER
A relic of war from times long past, when Hypnal was a goddess of wrath and war. Now, she oversees rest and healing for all who bask in her gentle light. But the echoes of war still ring within her followers...
Sorry I skipped last week lol, I forgor. Will make an honest effort to not do that anymore
in definitely unrelated news my doctor said I might have adhd. Well! haha
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A fun item for martial characters, or rather anyone who can competently wield a blade.
If anyone ever actually uses any Codex items, please feel free to tell me how it works for you! And remember to donate to my Ko-fi!
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First entry of the Wayfinder’s Codex!
games aside it is so difficult to schedule ko-fi posts and also schedule a tumblr post for a kofi post that hasn’t come out yet but i’ll figure it out !!!
we stay silly :3
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A fun little bloodborne-inspired item this week on my Ko-Fi!
(definitely ignore that this is a day late)
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