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Had a similar situation at a convention last year.

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Probably one of the most common subschools of cibumagia (food magic), pizzaturgy is an especially versatile craft that can be adapted to suit a wide variety of tastes and purposes.

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Last in the series is Kupuma, the Avatar of Shadow. Darkness is not evil, but it can be a bit unsettling.

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Justin hefted the scythe carefully. The haft was carved to resemble the stem of a grave-lily, with the blade emerging from the blossom. It was painfully real in his hands.

His mother knelt before him, waiting to be harvested.

"There's one missing."

Some weeks prior, the Greifenstein Grenadiers were relaxing in the dining hall. It was Ailura's turn to cook, which meant that Justin was stirring the cookpot while the grimalkin told him what to add. He looked back toward Beni, who had just spoken up. "Sorry? Are you looking for something?"

"Not exactly? Just ... those temple monsters, the ones the Grand Bijoutier keeps hiring us to fight." Beni traced a claw along the wood grain on the table top, ears flicking back and forth. "After we reported on this last one, he said that was probably the last one he'd need to hire us to face."

"And I'm glad of that," Sarinda added.

"... but they were all attacking the Archstones, right? The Prime Crystals at the elemental temples." Beni pulled the runestones from the pouch at his waist and set them down on the table. "Air and Earth, Water and Fire, Ice and Lightning, Light ... but no Shadow. I think there's still a monster out there."

Tyrus looked over Beni's shoulder at the runestones. The little slats of rock looked harmless enough when Beni wasn't conjuring eldritch beasts out of them. "Intriguing deduction, lad. But is there even a Temple of Shadow? I've not heard of any in my travels."

"Nor I ... but there would have to be an Archstone, at least." Justin paused to taste the stew. It needed coriander. "I remember the Grand Bijoutier telling me as much. Eight crystals set in four opposing pairs around the world. So an Archstone of Shadow would have to be at the antipode from the Temple of Light in the Ashocani lands, right?"

"One minute." Zeppe stood with a grunt and disappeared into her office, returning with a world map and some drawing supplies. "If you're telling true, then ..." Zeppe carefully placed a mark on each of the temples, a few lines with pencil and straightedge.

"Oh hell," Sarinda groaned when she saw where the lines intersected. "The Winnowing Fens."

...

"This is the only way?"

"I don't wish to fight you," she murmured. "I haven't the strength."

Justin fought a lump in his throat. "... what happens when you're all gone?"

...

The Winnowing Fens were a dreary place. The plants and beasts in that vast brackish marshland fed mostly on each other's waste and corpses; the few things that truly grew there seemed to do so out of spite. Even the sunlight shone reluctantly through sluggish clouds onto a sulky haze that clung to every surface. The group made their way through the miles along a decrepit plank path that only stayed together because it was too desolate to rot.

"At least the swamps around Pierregrise had character," Sarinda griped. "And better food. And actual people. Humans are supposed to be the adaptable species, but even they couldn't deal with this place, hm? Why even build a Temple in a swamp that only produces crippling malaise?"

"... which came first, I wonder ..."

Sarinda rolled her eyes at Justin's comment, but Beni looked toward the priest. "How do you mean?"

"The Archstones pull their elemental energy toward them, yes? And the other Temples: Fire was surrounded by volcanoes, Lightning by storms, Water was at the end of an archipelago ... remember the big lush gardens around the Temple of Light? I shouldn't be surprised if all this gloom and decay would gather anywhere the Temple of Shadows were built."

Sarinda scoffed. "Chickens and eggs, god-boy. Don't let's just make up stories when you already have enough myths in your holy book. Besides, there's the Temple now. Let's just get ready to kill whatever shows up to menace the Archstone."

The Temple of Shadow rose up out of the swamp like a mausoleum of granite and marble. The sharp edges of the black and gray building stood in stark contrast to the sad and lumpy organic mess of the Winnowing Fens. As they drew closer to the building, a single figure could be seen standing in the front plaza. Human, or at least a similar size, wearing a fancy dress in the Barlovian fashion.

The color drained from Justin's face as he realized who he was looking at. "... no ... she's dead ... she can't ... who ... how dare!" He took off running toward the temple at an unnatural speed, plank path falling apart behind him from the force of his feet striking the boards.

...

Justin had never felt such anger in his life. Certainly he'd rankled at Sarinda's constant verbal abuse, writhed in impotent frustration as he'd watched his life fall apart, but now he was gripping this woman by the shoulders like he would rip her in half, a sickening rage tying his innards in knots.

"Why?" he all but spat the word in her face. "Why do you wear her face? What RIGHT have you? I know she's dead, I saw the whole forsaken castle crumple, no one could have survived that! Queen Mathilde Arabella von Abplan Himmelgarten died in the siege of Sommerfahren Castle ... and you dare to wear my mother's face?"

The old woman looked up at him quietly. Every wrinkle was the same, every strand of iron-gray hair done up the way she would have. By the gods, she even wore Queen Mathilde's wedding band. But her voice was weary, just shy of sobbing from exhaustion. "Is that who you see?"

"--what ..?" He halted his ranting, stared at the woman, even let go of her shoulders. She rubbed softly at her arms, wincing in pain.

"My apologies," she said softly, and her gray eyes slowly rose to meet his. "I see now. Prince Robert Flavius Eustacius Himmelgarten IV. Last of Æthelberaht's line." She reached out and took his bandaged hand in both of hers. "You bear the Mark bestowed upon your ancestor so very long ago ... you bear the burden of the Godslayer."

"Of ... of the what--" He tried to pull his hand back, but her grip was like the grave. He looked back toward the plank path, but the boards had fallen apart from his reckless dash. The others would take forever to catch up to him. What had he gotten himself into ...

"I feel their power resting in the Mark ... what remains of it." She stroked the back of his hand, and Justin nearly cried out as he felt stirrings of the divine from deep within him. "The Crystals, they starved us of faith ... it was Builder, who said we ought destroy them. But we were too late, too weak." A tear slid down her cheek as she produced a scythe and offered it to him. "I cannot fight you, child. I beg of you ... let me rest."

...

When the other Grenadiers made it to the temple, they found Justin on his knees, face in his hands, wracked with sobs. A scythe lay on the ground beside him, the blade shining like the night sky around a winter moon. He was alone, save for a runestone on the ground before him.

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Hothai, Avatar of Earth.

This mountain of a beast will bring any enemies to ruin.

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Boss Monster Concept: Tenepardus

Zeppy panted a bit, marching up the stairs after the Superintendent of the Temple of Earth. Instead of growing colder with the higher altitude, the path to the temple complex only grew sunnier and more oppressive. The runa woman she was following was used to the thinner mountain air, however, and she kept up a steady lecture to Zeppy and the other Greifenstein Grenadiers despite her hurried pace up the slopes.

"... so of course this manchay kawsaq-kawsaq appeared during the annual Metallurgy Festival," the badger-dwarf continued, fretfully tugging at the ornate plaits in her beard as her sturdy feet pounded their way up the textured granite steps. "Some feeble old aukin appeared at the ceremonial grounds at sunrise. Ran up to the Archcrystal and tried to strike it with a club."

"You don't say," Zeppy replied, tugging at her scarf. At least she hadn't bothered dressing masculine today; the wraps on her chest would have choked her in the thin air. Thank Fortune that the runas preferred a woman as an active authority! She'd only taken up dressing as a man because the Salamín of her homeland insisted that a woman's place was in the head office, letting her male underlings do all the work. Unlike the female Salamín, however, Zeppy wasn't fifty times the size of her husband and she only had the one. She would have gone stir-crazy sitting in one room all day with nothing but theories and administrative tasks to occupy her. And Fabrizio, while charming and adept at diplomacy, didn't know tongs from bellows.

The Superintendent hurried on, heedless of the panting, sweating mercenaries struggling to match her pace. "People laughed at first ... I think it was the shock of anyone doing something so disrespectful, so stupid. But then he turned kuku, grew into some frightening mass of living dolerite. Every smelter on the plaza was suddenly emptied at once, and the alloys turned to banded armor over its body." She paused to shudder dramatically. Administering temple rites required a certain flair for storytelling, and the Superintendent was no slouch. "We evacuated the plaza at once, of course, and that seemed to stop it moving. Our healers are treating the injured as we speak."

"Thank you," Zeppy wheezed as they stepped onto the ceremonial grounds at the peak of The Throne. It wasn't the highest mountain in the region, but the snowy peaks surrounding it seemed to cradle it reverently. A stately building plated in pure gold and studded with precious gems stood at the far end of the plaza, overlooking the fallen festival pavilions and equipment. The Archcrystal of Earth stood at the center, radiating various shades of red. And a giant figure stood motionless before the Archcrystal, as though lost in thought. Its left arm bore a macuahuitl, and its right arm was a massive chain flail with the pediment of a marble column for its weight. A jaguar skin was draped over its head and back.

After a moment to catch her breath, Zeppy stood up straight and looked to the others. "Everyone in good condition? ... Good. We'll approach it in typical formation. Justin, you stay close to the Superintendent and keep her shielded until we need heali--MOVE!"

The creature moved with the cruel speed of a landslide, leaving faint images of its movement in its wake. Zeppy barely managed to tackle the Superintendent out of the way before the marble flail slammed into the pavement where she had been standing, cratering the ground and sending shards of rock flying. She rolled back to her feet, tugging the heavy runa woman up with her. Tyrus engaged the creature, but he was barely able to swing his shield fast enough to block the swift strikes from its macuahuitl. Beni and Sarinda tried to keep it distracted, and Ailura hopped to Justin's shoulders to start slinging spells, but it was moving too quickly to target.

Zeppy took quick stock of the situation and looked to the Superintendent. "New plan: you run and get backup forces. Everyone else: SURVIVE!"

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Linao, Avatar of Lightning. Quick as a wink and strong as a thunderbolt.

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But(t) alas(s) ...

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Boss Monster Concept: Labrysagitta

The Effulgent Hallow, as it turned out, was a misnomer.

Justin held his staff aloft, raising the lantern that Zeppy had affixed to the end. The warm glow only lit a small circle around the party as they followed the tunnel deeper into the mountain. Precious stones glimmered all around, set in intricate geometric mosaics along the walls and ceiling. Perhaps in brighter light, they would have been beautiful, but with only the oil lantern shining on them, every gleam brought to mind hidden predators in the dark.

"A bit strange to see one of these crystals without a bustling temple around it," he murmured.

"The last Spark'lings died out centuries ago," Ailura replied, wrinkling her nose, "and good riddance. They were terrifying even when they weren't trying to kill me." With a shudder, she added, "Any creature that can carry on a conversation while it rips its own arm off and puts another one in its place ... and then thinks better of it and sticks the first arm on its back ..."

Thunder rumbled somewhere outside the mountain. A few of the cut stones rattled in their sockets on the wall. Ailura flinched.

"As I said, the Spark'lings are dead." She sounded like she was reassuring herself. "And no one else wants to live on this storm-blasted rock. You saw how often lightning strikes this mountain, even with grounding rods on every prominence."

"Stranger still, come to think on it. With all the aether roiling outside, how'd this Temple come to be a null zone?" From the moment they'd entered the tunnel, Justin and Ailura had been unable to use magic. Try as he might, even his strongest efforts couldn't maintain so much as a magic candle -- he could feel the very walls of the Temple drink up his mana the moment he tried to exert it. No wonder Ailura was in such foul spirits; she must be feeling utterly helpless.

"You know what else is weird?" Beni tapped one of the crystals in the mosaic pattern and watched it rattle for a few seconds. "The Spark'lings were some kind of crystal beings, right? Bodies made out of that thaumalite stone. So why decorate this place with all these crystal mosaics? You'd think that would be like a king decorating a whole palace with bones and organs."

"Perhaps it's a different sort of crystal? Maybe they wouldn't find that as disturbing ..." Tyrus tapped at another stone, and it rattled softly. "... never mind, this is thaumalite after all."

"... and thaumalite absorbs magical energies ..." Justin gulped softly as he stepped out into the shadows beyond the end of the tunnel. Hundreds upon thousands of crystal facets twinkled from every cave wall in the surrounding gloom. "... which means this whole place is lined with mana-draining corpses ..."

"MY CHILDREN ..." What spoke then was less a voice and more an echo of the entire mountain, as though every lightning bolt in the storms above had struck it at once and the thunder itself was roaring in agony. Justin and the others held their breath as the mosaics began to rattle, softly at first, but then louder and louder until the stones ripped themselves free from their sockets.

"Hit the dirt!" Zeppy's voice broke the spell enough for everyone to throw themselves to the ground as the crystals flew overhead. The stream of tiny gems ripped a massive stone axe from one wall, stone pipes from another. They formed a maelstrom above the Archstone and coalesced into a massive eagle, with the axe growing out of one wing and bombard rockets loaded in the other. It perched atop the Archstone and shrieked a threat.

The party struggled to their feet, and Justin tried to project a shield over the others - only to groan as it fizzled out immediately. "T-try to play it safe, everyone ... I can't heal anyone until we get out of this place ..!"

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Summon: Shamal

Beni's first summoned creature, gained after defeating Paterboventus: Shamal, Avatar of Wind.

He's just a little guy~

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Boss Monster Concept: Paterboventus

Sarinda Kullal adjusted her headscarf as she strode through the city of Arjunavatika, hiding just a little more of her face. The company might be leagues away from her hometown of Pan'xav and those disgusting bhainām who made her so miserable as a child ... but even here in the holy city at the base of The Crown's central mountain spire, where Nagaru from all over the Confederation mingled and treated each other politely no matter which mountain they hailed from, half-breeds like Sarinda were a curiosity at best. So she covered her plumage, wore gloves and boots over her talons, carefully arranged a veil to cover the bit of beak on her nose. Better to look suspicious than to stand out openly.

"Of all the places to take the new hires for their first official mission," she moaned to Zeppy as they walked along, "why here?"

The commanding officer raised an eyebrow and waited for her to say more.

"Working among my late mother's people will be hassle enough even with you and Beni, and I know you. I know how to work with you. The Barlovian twits? Tyrus can swing a sword well enough, but he leaps at every challenge with no thought for anyone's safety. Ailura is a fidgety little cat-freak just waiting for an excuse to set something on fire. And Justin ... ugh. That pathetic god-boy is like a sad dog made of soggy pastries. The moment we confront this Patterwossname, he's like to grovel in front of it and cry for his dead mum."

Zeppy stifled a chuckle and turned it into a cough. "And that's your professional opinion as the senior intelligence officer of the Greifenstein Grenadiers, is it?"

"It's my opinion as a miserable diva who has too many eyes on her for all the wrong reasons." She sniffed, the very picture of wounded dignity somewhere under the scarf and veil and robe. "If I'm to have an audience, I want one that adores me."

"Hm. Well. Save that indignation for the monster in the temple," Zeppy replied. "You can punish it all you like for dragging you out this way. I'll worry over the new ones."

--

The Temple of Winds was carved out of the peak of the mountain, a tower where every surface was a statue of this mythic hero or that, painted brightly and acting out a scene. Sarinda knew every story by heart, the myriad tales that she studied when the other girls left her by herself. There on the left column was Sringa the seer, just beneath Juna the warrior prince, and to the right, Urva the dancer ...

"That's a lovely tune you're humming."

Justin's voice wobbled over and shattered Sarinda's reverie. She leveled a glare at him. "I'll thank you not to discuss personal matters during a mission." This was a lie. Sarinda would never thank Justin, if she could help it; that would only encourage the god-boy. She turned and led the way into the tower.

Now that they were out of the public eye, Sarinda could do away with the concealing clothes and move at her own pace. The Temple Guard were surprised to see a half-breed among the mercenaries arriving to help them, but with the number of lesser fiends running loose, they would have welcomed even a rakshasa's aid. And Sarinda fought as dirty as a demon, pulling on years of experience surviving tavern brawls in her early career. She whirled from fiend to fiend like she was on stage, scarves and sashes trailing behind her and obscuring her outline. A flick of the arm here, and her wing feathers snapped out to strike a fiend across the eyes and blind it. A twirl there, hips jutting dangerously to the side and pulling her torso out of the way of a swiping claw. A sweep of her leg, and she tripped another fiend, followed by a kick to the back of the leg to hobble it. A snap of her hand, and a small chakram flew from her finger to slash another fiend in the throat. "Try to keep up," she called to the others as she leapt and spun her way further up the tower.

At last, they reached the topmost chamber where the Archstone of Wind was under siege. The massive crystal floated at the center of the chamber, surrounded by stone columns that formed a high arched vault above it. Surrounding the crystal, biting and squeezing at it to try to shatter it, was a massive snake monster with two heads and gaudy plumes. The snake's scales glistened strangely - and to test them, Zeppy fired a pistol round that glanced harmlessly off of one, scattering a few shards. In reply, the snake uncoiled from the crystal and spiraled up to the top of the chamber, and back down, launching spheres of magical wind as it swooped down on them.

As she stared up at the serpent, Sarinda realized that the pattern of the scales looked far too familiar ... it had shattered countless statues from the upper chamber and turned the stone and ceramic fragments into armor plating. Flecks of red tinged the edges of her vision as she drew her katar and charged it recklessly. "Tū kamīnā..!" she shrieked. "NO ONE desecrates these stories and lives!"

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So apparently the mods over at itaku.ee think that this picture is too risqué for general audiences. And apparently other artists are getting the same treatment, because their staff can only see fat characters as a disgusting fetish.

I guess consider this fair warning that the Itaku mods are either fatphobic or chubby chasers.

If an orc were a furry, would his fursuit be a gnoll?

Maybe!

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When the unbridled lust slams headfirst into the depressive self loathing.

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Summon: Isati

After defeating Butophidia, Beni learns to summon Isati, the Avatar of Fire. Small and gaudy as it may be, the firefox dancer is nimble and can subject its enemies to death by a thousand cuts.

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Boss Monster Concept: Butophidia

Story and FX-less version under the cut.

The wind was steamy and sulfurous. Slate-gray clouds covered the sky, and the sea, so far below, was dark as blueberry wine. Nascent volcanic peaks jutted out of the ocean here and there, venting noxious fumes as glowing lava trickled out like fiery serpents creeping through the withered basalt. What feeble sunlight blundered past the clouds only made the surrounding seascape look that much more gloomy and foreboding. The Sea of Thermaia wasn't Hell, but it was close enough to remind Ailura briefly of home even centuries later. But that was far in the past, and the present was much more ... entertaining, she thought with a smile. Here at the Temple of Fire, sitting atop a seamount the locals called The Maker's Forge*, the Archcrystal of Fire was under attack, and the Crystal Gnosis Society in their vaunted wisdom had once more sent the Greifenstein Grenadiers to clean up the problem. After generations of indenture to those wretched Barlovian kinglets, bowing and mewling and having to play the nursery maid to an endless stream of royal bratlings, Ailura relished these opportunities to wreak pain and death on weaker creatures. You could take the cat out of Hell, but you couldn't take Hell out of the cat. This creature, though, wasn't as weak as Ailura would have liked. Butophidia, such a frivolous name for a bloated snake contraption in a gaudy dress, spitting gouts of flame at the Archcrystal and battering it with those useless wings. Leave it to that old bag of bones, the Grand Bijoutier, to make up all these lofty titles for all these ugly creatures. Did he have nothing better to do than-- Ailura barely rolled out of the way just in time as the creature tried to slam Ailura with its wing. "Mind your temper, beastie," she scolded, drawing her wand from within her robe. "You've interrupted a soliloquy." While Tyrus kept the vermin distracted with his swordplay, Ailura deftly flicked her wand and sent a spray of sharp ice crystals at the eyeball atop its head. The screech of pain as it crumpled around itself, squinting its fanged eyelid-jaws half shut, was sweet in the grimalkin's ears. But the sweetness left a bitter aftertaste as Butophidia reared up once more, arching its back as it loosed a deafening shriek. The air in front of the creature seemed to rip itself open for a moment, sparking an explosion of such heat and force that it cracked the stone columns nearby and threw the little war band to the ground. As Ailura gingerly stood up once more, the scent of burning fabric caught her nose. She sneered and raised her wand once more. "You've scorched my dress, wyrm," she spat, "but you shall pay that debt. I'll take yours off of your corpse!"

* Ararchi Darbnotsi in their tongue, but she'd already learned enough languages for three lifetimes and wasn't about to make room for another if she could help it. How convenient, then, that she could cajole Robert -- Justin, rather -- into magically translating for her. It was so gratifying when the manling made himself useful.

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Grocery Shopping and Stayed Late at Work.

Simon Shepherd, 2019.

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If an orc were a furry, would his fursuit be a gnoll?

Maybe!