#also the Waidwen one was A Struggle

[herearedragons]

According to both Pillars Of Eternity and Epic - when the gods get involved.

(lyrics from Epic: The Musical - “Just A Man” )

commission info

[spacepigfanclub]

Theory Blurb #1 - What if the Watcher said “Fuck the Dyrwood” and never went there

After a long writing and “generally-anything-that-wasn’t-a-reblog” hiatus, I’m back as a way to de-stress from my finals

I would also like to both thank and apologise to the members of the Pillars of Eternity Discord server for having to endure my brain farts lmfao

[TW: death, lots and lots of death, lynching, suicide, everyone having a really really bad time]

...Short answer, the Dyrwood is capital “f”  F U C K E D

A bit longer answer, the fandom’s weed blorbo and the elven blorbo with anxiety, as well as the entire nation of Dyrwood are doomed. Everyone’s wellbeing depends on that one funky little gremlin that hoards pets and is not allowed any drugs due to seing ghosts while clean/sober.

Let’s get to the biggest issue at hand first and then get to various miscelaenous things.

So, starting off, the moment the Watcher decides they want to, as an example, settle down in the Living Lands instead... there’s no one in the Dyrwood to actually stop Thaos from continuing Waidwen’s Legacy. He can actually carry out the mission with none of those depressed meddling kids getting in his way and manages to empower Woedica and discredit animancy in the Dyrwood with little to no resistance.

He likely doesn’t even need to continue the Legacy for much longer, since the entire nation is on the brink of collapse. Even if Thaos leaves and the Legacy is no more and the Dyrwood doesn’t fall into anarchy like Defiance Bay did after the Animancy Hearings, they will, and I mean 10000000% CERTAINLY WILL have to deal with a massive demographic crisis.

PoE1 takes place in the year 2823 AI. Waidwen’s Legacy, meanwhile, began less than a year after the Saint’s War ended, around 2808 AI. This gives us 15 years of the vast majority of births in the Dyrwood being Hollowborn births. Not all births, since there are kids like Gordy and Saeda, who are perfectly fine, but more than enough to really matter in the long run. 

Even if the Legacy stopped and every adult in the Dyrwood got to doing the horizontal mambo like there was no tomorrow, those new births would not offset the effects of Waidwen’s Legacy, which would be felt for years to come.

As a result, the Dyrwood’s demographic pyramid would look a lot more like that of a modern day first world country... in a fantasy setting. Granted, they do have guns and some pretty nifty tech, but it’s still a fantasy setting and they only just began industrializing AT BEST. 

The only good things that I can think of here is that IF Thaos decides to end the Legacy soon after empowering Woedica, he will no longer need to divert souls. And because of the return of souls, the Dyrwood will have good harvests once more (since they were also struggling on that front if you take into account that one quest with the miller in the Gilded Vale). Everything in Eora needs soul power to work properly, plants included. 

So, we got a nation that would surely undergo a demographic crisis in the following years, where the spirits are low and there’s this aura of despair and suffering. Granted, all this exists in canon, but here it doesn’t get resolved by the Watcher. No extra kids from Hylea. No empowering the living populace by Galawain. Everyone has a Bad Time™.

And there is one nation that tries to take advantage of that by making things worse for the Dyrwood. The Vailian Republics. 

I imagine that things would go the same way as in one of Pallegina’s endings, namely the one where she bocomes Ducess Spireno’s personal guard. The tribes of Eir Glanfath and the Vailians sign the lucrative af trade deal, cutting out dyrwoodan competitors and the Dyrwood cannot do anything about it. The Dyrwood becomes the favorite chewtoy of the Republics, and they look not that better off than Readceras. 

Actually, Readceras might be better than the Dyrwood, because at least they got their pride back thanks to Adaryc and the Iron Flail.

Obviously, that would lead to the escalating tensions between the Dyrwood and the Republics. This could either result in a future war, which the Dyrwood would lose, and futher humiliation or other niceties. Or the Vailians would start thinking about “helping” the Dyrwoodans by making the crumbling nation dependant on vailian exports. As a treat.

Even if Thaos doesn’t kill Duc Aevar and Eydis Webb during the Animancy Hearings, the duc would still likely be ousted from office. The Vailians could then install a pro-Vailia puppet, leading to even more Bad Time™ down the line...

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Misc. Section:

Aloth never gets therapy and gets beaten by drunkards from his introduction scene. He then either leaves Gilded Vale soon after and becomes a recluse, or enough people start talking about “some Aedyran asshole that is acting hella suspicious” that Raedric hears it and arranges him a HANGout spot in the middle of the settlement. ...ok, I’ll leave now.

Speaking of hanging out, Edér is another solid candidate, judging by his introduction scene alone. Homeboy also never gets therapy or answers regarding Woden. 

After the birth of his Hollowborn son, I imagine Raedric would become even more paranoid of Eothasians. And since there ARE rumors in the Gilded Vale that Edér is a follower of Eothas, or at least that his late brother was one... he may better book it out asap.

Kana never finishes his thesis on the Tanvii ora Toha, or at least tries to get through the barrages of spirits up above and the monsters down below on his own. I believe he would, sooner or later, have to either abandon his dream or hire a whole ass merc group to help him if he actually can do everything without the Watcher’s abilities. 

Though, on a more positive tone, perhaps this could make him meet Aloth and Edér without the Watcher’s help, though I suppose their dynamic would be different compared to the actual game.

Bloody Legacy is never finished. Aelys Harond is never rescued from the Skaenites and the ritual is completed. Everything goes on the same way as when the Watcher begins the quest, but never fights the Skaenites or wipes Aelys’s memory, AKA she returns to her uncle, kills him and then herself, causing an uproar.

Heritage Hill is never cleared of the undead. Saeda Valtas is forever locked in the quarantine zone and either dies of starvation or is found and eaten alive by her undead family/neighbours.

Simoc, Vela’s guardian, eventually finds a gullible fool that would get him the baby-made potion. Vela either dies, or Simoc’s son finally decides to kill his father. 

Raedric never gets killed as long as he’s staying in his hold. Once Thaos empowers Woedica and leaves for a new mission, Waidwen’s Legacy would misteriously “dissapear” and Raedric would be seen by the remaining populace of Gilded Vale as a “hero”, just like in one of his endings.

Maerwald eventually dies and Caed Nua becomes even more of a ruin that everyone avoids like the plague. Since there’s no one there to conveiniently repair and pimp up the keep, Lord Gathbin never bothers to leave Aedyr for the Dyrwood.

Stalward either remains a backwater, or they do indeed get help from someone else. Maybe an adventurer reactivates the Forge and everything’s well... until the Eyeless arrive and Adaryc decides to occupy the place and succeeds, giving way for an era of relative prosperity in Readceras (for the first time ever, actually). Adaryc would try to find a way to destroy the Eyeless menace, as he is the only other Watcher that we know of, the only other person that gets the message that shit is about to go down.

He either succeeds or gets martyr’d trying, but would have a delayed response due to him thinking it is all Dyrwood’s fault. 

If Adaryc and the Iron Flail succeed in wiping out the Eyeless, but at the cost of Adaryc’s life, then get ready for the Cult of Saint Adaryc, the Second Coming of Eothas, to spread like wildfire across Readceras.

If they DON’T succeed though... say goodbye to the entirety of the Reach.

[adozentothedawn]

Berath's bell and settler's arrow from the pillars 1 asks for favaen :>

Sure thing! :D

Berath's Bell: How does your Watcher cope with loss? Did past experiences affect how they interact in game one?

Favaen’s really big loss was Eothas, wich was something she struggled with for a long time. She developed some unhealthy coping mechanisms and had some issues with depression for a while. I actually wrote a one-shot for oc-tober about exactly that if you’re interested. You can find it here.^^

Settler's Arrow: What's your Watcher's opinion on Waidwen's Legacy (the Hollowborn Crisis)? Did it affect their opinions and decisions with Lord Raedric?

The hollowborn crisis was horrifying for Favaen. She’s had her own issues in the past and has dealt with trauma before, but she hasn’t ever seen such collective before. The loss of Eothas hit everyone around her hard, but there is still the hope that he’ll come back. The hollowborn are a different situation. She also highly disapproves of the name Waidwen’s Legacy. Though she doesn’t what actually went down with Waidwen, she knows that Eothas would never act out of revenge, much less against innocent unborn children. She doesn’t regret dealing with Raedcric though. She regrets that he went down this path and that she had to take action, but she doesn’t regret killing him in the end. She gave him the option to do better and he denied it. That choice isn’t on her. The hollowborn don’t change that. He made bad decisions and refused to seek redemption for them. She pities him for that, but that’s it. There are other things that weigh more heavily on her.

[yanara126-writing]

Mo(u)rning

Eothas has returned and Adaryc has ambivalent feelings on the matter.

Or: Adaryc grieving for the Watcher

Read here or on Ao3 (1837 words)

The well-oiled door didn’t make a creak as it opened. Carefully it was closed again, and quiet steps echoed in the large, empty halls as they made their way further inside, walking past empty seats and artfully crafted statues, bathed in colourful light from the stain glass windows. They came to a halt before a tiered, polished marble alter, lovingly decorated with candles in all shapes and sizes.

Adaryc Cendamyr, commander of the Iron Flail, stood in the lavish temple of Readceras’ capital, alone. From outside came the noise of celebration, people singing and rejoicing at the glorious return of their god. Adaryc himself wasn’t quite ready to celebrate yet, a painful emptiness and confusion tugging on his soul as he sought comfort from the familiar atmosphere of the temple.

News had come fairly quickly, of the adra giant that had broken out from under the earth and was making his way towards the Deadfire. The priests had assured them of His identity, and from there the story had spread like a wildfire. Including its point of origin. Adaryc had found it hard to believe, but so many independent reports had come in from various traders and travellers that he hardly had a choice.

Carefully he pulled out a candle from his bag and gently put it among the others on the altar. It was a simple one, made from normal beeswax. He hadn’t had the time to make anything more elaborate, but he’d wanted to make something at least, before leaving for Deadfire the next morning. She deserved it.

He lit the candle and watched as the flame burned steadily, while he mentally paid his respects to the one, he’d made it for. Outside the people were chanting her name as a martyr, the priestess who’d paved the way for Eothas’ return. But they only knew what Adaryc and his men had told them, they knew of her as a story, not as a real woman, who would’ve never wanted innocents to die.

Adaryc sighed, the sound echoing in the large, empty hall.

That wasn’t entirely fair. After he’d returned from the White March and made his report, a few people had left to see if he was right. They too returned with tales of the lady of Caed Nua, the sole remaining Eothas priestess in all the Dyrwood, keeper of the save haven for all Eothasians and, as they whispered under their breaths, a watcher. Though she herself had certainly never made a secret out of it, in Readceras it was considered a bad omen to see the souls of the dead. After all, surely there must’ve been a reason for Gaun not to have come for them.

Adaryc wasn’t quite so sure about that anymore. He was still struggling with his fate, after all, it wasn’t exactly pleasant to suddenly lose his hold on reality and then have a traumatised soul jump into his face, but he was starting to see her point. These souls hadn’t wanted their fate any more than he his. He could use his ability to help them move on and lead them back to the wheel, granting them the same chance for a new life every soul was owed. And occasionally he could even help the living. The thankful face of a young woman, to who he’d returned her mother’s locket in a ditch attempt to make her ghost stop haunting him, flashed through his mind. And who could say this ability of his wasn’t Eothas’ way of asking for help? It’s not like He could’ve done so verbally in the last years…

Now... now He’d apparently come back and levelled Caed Nua in the process, killing everyone in it, including its ruler. Adaryc didn’t know what to think about that. He didn’t doubt that the Watcher would’ve laid down her life willingly to help their god, but for everyone else to die as well? Adaryc wanted to think there could have been another way, yet at the same time dreaded the possibility.

Quietly he knelt down, the sturdy fabric of his trousers keeping the cold of the stone floor away, with his eyes still remaining fixed on the candle and the soft light it shone on everything around it, bright and unapologetic, even next to some much larger ones. A fitting image really.

When he’d first met her, in the Iron Flail fortress, it had been in the middle of the night and she’d entered the room so casually, at first he hadn’t even realized she was an intruder. He’d just thought her one of his men, come to make a report, so when he’d finally turned around, he’d almost had a heart attack. Though to be fair, it had been a hard, few days for him.

After the rather heated conversation they’d had, he’d almost felt like a young boy again, put over his father’s knee for some stupid prank. And yet he’d also felt... validated somehow. Like he might’ve made a mistake in his reaction against the villagers, but if he just corrected it, he’d be on the right path again and all would be forgiven.

Then the two eyeless had shown up and everything had gone to shit. There’d been casualties, many injured and three dead. She’d insisted on staying the night to help them patch up everything. The rest of her group had helped with the damage to the camp, while she’d treated the wounded, rushing from one bed to the next without rest. She’d even personally apologized to the man she’d knocked out, while sneaking in.

The next morning she’d held mass for them and the funeral rites for their dead. A rare solace for his troop, as they didn’t have a priest traveling with them. Adaryc had always done his best, but he knew he was hardly a good substitute. When she’d left afterwards, his sword in tow, the men had continued talking about her, and he’d let them. It wasn’t like he hadn’t mulled over her.

The noises from outside were growing quieter. Adaryc would have to leave soon to get some rest if he wanted to set off at dawn tomorrow. But surely a little more time couldn’t hurt... The familiarity of the temple brought him a feeling of stability that he desperately needed. Much like the stability she had been once, when everything had seemed too crazy to be true.

The next time he’d seen her, she’d told them of an impending apocalypse, caused by Ondra herself. For some reason no one else in the room had seemed terribly surprised, her companions least of all, which, while very confusing, had helped him to just accept the situation and move on to solving it. She’d defended him when the villagers had wanted to throw him out (understandably so, he could now admit), and he’d promised her back up, not that she’d needed it in the end.

Adaryc had spent hours on the lookout of the Iron Flail fortress himself, waiting for a signal that never came. They hadn’t been able to see the crater collapse when it had happened, but they’d heard the deafening crash, as had everyone in whole White March.

Then it had been a waiting of a different kind, waiting if she and her companions would return. Adaryc had done what he’d always done. He’d told the people to have hope and trust in Eothas, even though he himself had found it rather difficult. He’d thought Saint Waidwen would return, he’d thought his commander would return, he’d thought Eothas would return, and no one had. Until now.

And she had of course. Though if ‘return’ was the right word was a different question. It had hardly been a triumphant homecoming. Instead, the blonde soldier had carried her to the fort, unconscious, frozen, and half dead, with the rest of their group trailing behind and in not much better shape. He’d spent maybe two seconds with horrified staring, before realizing that she was not dead, but could certainly be soon without help.

A hectic night had followed, trying to warm her up and, if possible, avoid her getting pneumonia. Adaryc had, again, spent the whole night awake, watching over her together with the soldier and making sure she didn’t just stop breathing at some point. The elf had refused to go to bed as well, preferring to sit in the corner of the room, pretending to read, though he’d dozed off at some point. It had been... interesting. Nerve wracking, but interesting. Adaryc and the soldier, Edér he now knew, had had a long and at first very frosty, conversation, and had managed to get to a sort of consensus over their shared belief and the one fighting so hard for it. Apparently even unconscious she managed to get people together, willingly or not.

She had of course survived it, just like she’d survived the rest of her journey (though if he really believed the rumours about said journey, he didn’t know himself). To think that she was dead now, killed by their own god along with countless others... it was painful. But pain was hardly new to Adaryc.

With a deep breath Adaryc made the prayer sign and moved to get up. It wasn’t his place to judge his god’s decisions. Certainly, there had to be a point to his actions, and all Adaryc could do was send her off as best as he could without her body. He’d follow Eothas, do his duty, and perhaps he’d even get an answer, why all of this had to happen. The war, Saint Waidwen’s death, His disappearance, and now her death.

He turned to leave, walking by the empty rows of benches once again, thinking of the people that had once filled them and never would again, who would never see their prayers come to fruition. He opened the giant door and turned around one last time, looking back to the candle on the altar. Seeing the light of the flame, Adaryc made a silent promise to himself. When this was all over, he’d ask to be granted leave and visit the grave he was sure her people had built her.

He left the church, a light wind blowing through his hair and saw the people still left in the streets, which were bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, faces set alight by joy and hopeful excitement for a future they had been waiting for for twenty long years. A future she, and many others, would never see. Adaryc knew that he could not take the chance of her soul being stuck here too, like the other tortured souls who died a violent death, which he sometimes found roaming the battlefields. He wouldn’t let her become another terrified spirit, unable to return to the wheel. Until then, he would pray that the dawn would finally rise over all of them, after twenty long years of waiting and suffering. Even if the dawn was drenched in blood...

[rannadylin]

OC Personality Test: Idalia

Tagged by @queen-scribbles and I’m passing on the tag to @aban-ataashi @serenbach86 @lunarowena @risualto!

Here are the rules:

1. Go to this website.

2. Choose an OC and take the test for them.

3. Put their stats here.

I’m doing this for Idalia. I think I had attempted an MBTI test for her earlier in the campaign and got INFP but have had my doubts as her story progressed, and this result seems quite a bit more accurate for her:

Defender (ISFJ-T)

Mind -  This trait determines how we interact with our environment.

3% EXTRAVERTED | 97% INTROVERTED

Yep, no surprise there; I write/play mostly introverts but Dal is the shyest of them all by far! Even shyer than Xipil who also happens to be an ISFJ...

Energy - This trait shows where we direct our mental energy.

41% INTUITIVE | 59% OBSERVANT

Well, she did have plenty of high awareness rolls in the game. This is pretty close to the middle though.

Nature - This trait determines how we make decisions and cope with emotions.

21% THINKING | 79% FEELING

She’s one of those quiet ones with *very deep feelings* that no one else is likely to ever hear about, yep.

Tactics - This trait reflects our approach to work, planning and decision-making.

64% JUDGING | 36% PROSPECTING

I suspect she scored so high on J because she’s such a hard worker and diligent and also just not fond of plans changing in the middle of them and such. (Much as she loves Ona, spending a day with her highly spontaneous Waelite friend would probably wear Dal out!) She was kind of confused when the God Squad was first assigned to go spy on Waidwen but then immediately changed course to go look for Magran’s artifact; being Dal, however, she did not at all speak up about it but it bothered her. (It bothers her even more in retrospect once they found the artifact and it was used to blow up her god, I suppose.)

Identity - This trait underpins all others, showing how confident we are in our abilities and decisions.

28% ASSERTIVE | 72% TURBULENT

Honestly I don’t even know where that 28% came from, has Dal ever been assertive in her life? Well, maybe a little when she attempted that intimidation roll against Yarrow despite not being able to add her glow to it anymore. XD But then - if she’s committed to a course of action - like rescuing her brother - Dal does get a little more assertive to make sure she sticks to it.

Bonus, behind the cut: Some highlights of the ISFJ descriptions that definitely do fit Dal, though there are parts of them that aren’t quite her either, but hey, that’s how personality types go :-D

“Defenders are true altruists, meeting kindness with kindness-in-excess and engaging the work and people they believe in with enthusiasm and generosity.”

Yeeeep. That’s like the basic Idalia definition right there.

“Defenders are found in lines of work with a sense of history behind them, such as medicine, academics and charitable social work.”

Yeah I guess being a priest (pretty well educated for Gilded Vale standards, right?) with healing magic and then later being a cook in a soup kitchen kind of ticks all those boxes...

“Defender personalities (especially Turbulent ones) are often meticulous to the point of perfectionism, and though they procrastinate, they can always be relied on to get the job done on time. Defenders take their responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond, doing everything they can to exceed expectations and delight others, at work and at home.”

Hmmmm I hadn’t considered Dal being a perfectionist, but she’s certainly meticulous and reliable. 

“Naturally social, an odd quality for Introverts, Defenders utilize excellent memories not to retain data and trivia, but to remember people, and details about their lives.”

So the idea of Dal as “Naturally social” sounds kind of odd, but she does enjoy interacting one-on-one or in small groups with people she knows well enough. It’s just getting to know them that is so awkward.

Her strengths:

Supportive (”choosing empathy over judgment whenever possible“ yeah that’s pretty much how hearing from her parents the story of why they left her at the temple as a baby went...)

Reliable & Patient

Imaginative & Observant (she sees you blushing, Nona)

Enthusiastic (not a trait we’ve had much chance to see, I must write her a purpose in life to be enthusiastic about now!)

Loyal & Hard-working (”Defender personalities often form an emotional attachment to the ideas and organizations they’ve dedicated themselves to. Anything short of meeting their obligations with good, hard work fails their own expectations.“ yeah she definitely had an emotional attachment to her temple!)

Good Practical Skills (”The best part is, Defenders have the practical sense to actually do something with all this altruism. If mundane, routine tasks are what need to be done, Defenders can see the beauty and harmony that they create, because they know that it helps them to care for their friends, family, and anyone else who needs it.“ Dal is a big fan of mundane, routine tasks that do in fact help others! Like cooking!)

And her weaknesses:

Humble & Shy (yeah this is like Dal 101)

Take Things Too Personally (”Defenders have trouble separating personal and impersonal situations – any situation is still an interaction between two people, after all – and any negativity from conflict or criticism can carry over from their professional to their personal lives, and back again.“ Definitely applies to Yarrow being suspicious of her after Waidwen’s camp!)

Repress Their Feelings (”People with the Defender personality type are private and very sensitive, internalizing their feelings a great deal. Much in the way that Defenders protect others’ feelings, they must protect their own, and this lack of healthy emotional expression can lead to a lot of stress and frustration.“ Ha this also is like Dal 101)

Overload Themselves (“Their strong senses of duty and perfectionism combine with this aversion to emotional conflict to create a situation where it is far too easy for Defenders to overload themselves – or to be overloaded by others – as they struggle silently to meet everyone’s expectations, especially their own.” Aw, poor Dal!)

Reluctant to Change (She really hated leaving her temple!)

Too Altruistic (”Being such warm, good-natured people, Defenders are willing to let things slide, to believe that things will get better soon, to not burden others by accepting their offers of help, while their troubles mount unassisted.” Again, poor Dal!)

I must also quote the bit on Romantic Relationships for ISFJs, because uh...some of these elements may already be in my fic outline for her XD

“When it comes to romantic relationships, Defenders’ kindness grows into a joy that is only found in taking care of their family and home, in being there for emotional and practical support whenever it’s needed. Home is where the heart is for people with the Defender personality type, and in no other area of their lives do they strive with such dedication to create the harmony and beauty they wish to see in the world.

The trouble is, these are the benefits of an established long-term relationship, and Defenders’ unbearable shyness means it can take a long time to reach this point. Defenders are most attractive when they are simply being themselves in a comfortable environment such as work, where their natural flow shows this kindness and dedication. Relationships built on established familiarity are a warm prospect for Defenders – they take dating seriously and only enter into relationships that have a real chance of lasting a lifetime.“

[lunarowena]

Fifteen Years

For @pillarspromptsweekly #0053: Anniversary.

So it’s been like three months since I’ve written anything but in my defense I’ve gotten married, moved, and gotten two cats in the interim. And I don’t currently have Internet but by golly I wrote for this week’s prompt so I’m going to post it.

Cross posted at fanfiction.net and AO3.

Edit: Let’s include the fic this time.

Lillian sighed as she tossed another hunk of meat to her wolf, Gideon. Their meeting with the ciphers of Hadret House could have gone better. It also could have gone worse, but Edér had no new information what happened to his brother other than that he was on the “wrong side” of the war. Now the group was holed up in the Charred Barrel in Brackenbury for the night. Well, most of them. Being in the middle of the city, Gideon and Itamuk were banished out to the stables, and even that took a good  amount of gold for the innkeeper to overlook that a wolf and a fox were not standard pets.

“You keep sighing like that you’re going to let all the air out of your lungs,” said Sagani. The dwarven woman was looking over Itamuk. “I think someone needs a bath.”

Lillian tossed the last chunk of meat to Gideon, who gobbled it up greedily. “You’d think I never feed him.” She sighed again and turned to Sagani. “I should go check on Edér.”

“What he needs is time and space.”

“I left him at the bar with Durance and Kana. He’s getting neither. No, buddy, that was it,” she said to Gideon’s expectant face. “I just… I feel responsible and I feel like I should be doing… something.”

Sagani raised an eyebrow. “Is that because you think as a Watcher you should be shouldering the weight of Eora, some guilt from Readceras being on the opposite side of the war, or because you’re sweet on him?”

“My ma taught me to not tell lies, so I’m not going to answer that.” She rubbed Gideon’s ears. “Now I’m going to go inside now, buddy, but you have to stay here. Don’t look at me like that. I’ll be back in the morning. You coming in, Sagani?”

“After I get the blood out of Itamuk’s fur.” She shook her head. “Just don’t go poking any sleeping bears.”

“I try not to.”

Working her way into the inn and over to the bar, she found Durance and Edér sitting a stool apart and the rest of the clientèle giving them a wide berth. The party wasn’t the upscale guests the Charred Barrel usually saw. Our money’s just as good, though, Lillian thought pettily. She plopped down on the stool between Edér and Durance. “Kana go up to bed?

“Said something about a book. Him and Aloth.” Edér continued to stare into his drink.

Lillian opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again. Even outside, the conversations she had played in her head sounded trite. She ordered a whiskey and the three sat in silence with their drinks.

Finally, Durance pushed his drink back with a scowl. “Do you know what day it is, Watcher?”

“Sorry, did we forget your birthday?” Lillian had expected to get a smirk out of Edér, but instead he tightened his grip on his drink and glared at Durance. Whatever day it was, it apparently wasn’t good.

Ignoring her jest, Durance pounded his fist into the counter. “Fifteen years to the day we blasted Waidwen back to the Wheel.”

The Godhammer again. Lillian threw back her drink. “Forgive me if I don’t celebrate that.”

Durance’s eye twitched. “You refuse to acknowledge our victory? You should have seen it, Watcher. The fire streaming into the sky. The smell of gunpowder on the air. The death of a god.”

She grimaced. “And the deaths of your countrymen and mine.”

Durance shook his head, his stringy hair swishing back and forth. “It was a necessary sacrifice. For the salvation of us all.”

“Some salvation. The god of rebirth is dead and with him the souls of your children.”

“You think I don’t know this, Watcher? You think I don’t question what we did? What it lead to?” Picking up his staff from where it was leaning against the bar, he slowly caressed it. “We did what we had to do. If this is our punishment, then so be it. We followed the will of our goddess.”

“As the Readcerans followed the will of our god.”

Beside her, Edér winced slightly at that statement.

Durance spat on the floor. “Readceran. Eothasian. If you had come through these parts some years back, during the purges, well...” he gave a low chuckle. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we? In fact, still in some parts...”

“And that,” Lillian slammed her glass down, “is why I don’t go making a big show of it in these parts, do I? And this is a nice place, Durance, you can’t just spit on the floor.”

He did it again. “Tell me, Watcher, how can your loins burn for one that turned his back on your god, killed your countrymen? Your brother died in the war, how do you know he didn’t kill him? Or if not your brother, how many others’?”

Fighting an urge to look at Edér, Lillian stared Durance straight in the eye as she suppressed a flash of anger and guilt. As if she hadn’t had these thoughts countless times before, the reason she struggled with her attraction along with her budding madness. She hadn’t thought it was obvious enough for Durance to pick up, and this was not the way she would have liked Edér to find out… whatever it was she felt.

She forced herself to slowly breathe in and out through her nose. It was a test, it was all a test with Durance. If she got angry, she lost. If she acknowledged it, she only gave him ammunition. The only way was to play ball. “How can your loins burn for a goddess that won’t even acknowledge you?”

His eyes goggled at her for a moment before he threw back his head and laughed. “As any can long for the favors of a slut.” He now focused his attention on Edér. “And you, farmer, how can you lust after the enemy, the physical representation of all your mistakes? Or is the fact she’s Eothasian enough to stoke your desire?”

Edér slowly set his drink on the counter and turned. “It was fifteen years ago, Durance,” he said slowly and quietly. “We can’t keep letting it define us for the rest of our lives.”

Durance slammed his staff into the ground. “Of course it defines us. We made history. Fifteen years later it has shaped the world, fifteen hundred years later the world will still be shaped by the Godhammer. For better or worse, we made this bed even if my whore refuses to lie in it. For better or worse,” he tapped his staff down almost absent mindedly, “we shall be immortal in the reams of history.” He spat again and stood up. “I take my leave of you and your blond cur, Watcher.”

“Don’t let your self-importance hit you on your way out,” Lillian muttered as he strode away. She picked up her glass before remembering it was empty and awkwardly set it back down. They sat in a tense silence.

“So,” said Edér eventually. “He’s not entirely wrong. Why do you put up with me, anyway?”

She forced herself to look at him, hoping he couldn’t read all of her emotions. “To be honest, when I first picked you up I was desperate for any kind of help. But you’re a good man, Edér.”

“I try to be.” He swirled the remains of his drink around in his glass. “And I have to hope intentions count for something.”

“I think they do.”

He looked up at her. “About the other things he said, about us, I–”

“You two still up?” Sagani appeared behind them.

Lillian wasn’t sure if she resented or appreciated Sagani’s timing. “Durance felt the need to have a heart-to-heart or sermon, depending on how you look at it.”

Sagani rolled her eyes. “Of course he did. Well, Itamuk’s clean and I’m headed up to bed. You guys coming?”

Lillian glanced back at Edér but she couldn’t read his expression. “Yeah. We’re all tired, it’s been a long day, and emotions are running high. We could all use some rest before we start having conversations we could further regret.”

Sagani looked at her suspiciously but just shrugged and started upstairs.

Pushing back from the bar, Lillian hesitated, her fingers trailing the edge of the bar counter as she wondered if there was anything else she should say, then followed her friend off to bed.

Edér stayed, nursing the remains of his drink, staring at the wall.

[pillarspromptsweekly]

Prompt #0045: June 18, 2018

Many a Watcher’s adventures are now continuing in the Deadfire Archipelago. Here at Pillars Prompts Weekly, we’ll continue to provide weekly suggestions for Eora-inspired fic, alternating with a Deadfire prompt one week and a prompt for the first game the next week, back and forth. And if you’re too engrossed in the game for the moment to write about it, feel free to come back to any of the prompts in the archives later!

Deadfire-themed prompts will have a new title image featuring the ominous face of Eothas, and any prompts containing spoilers will put that part behind a cut and tag it with #deadfire spoilers. We’ll also tag #deadfire spoilers on any stories reblogged here that contain spoilers for the new game. Prompts for the first Pillars of Eternity will have our usual adra-pillars title image.

Prompt 0045 is not a Deadfire prompt.

This week’s prompt: Eora is a world full of vibrant characters with lives and stories of their own…some of whom our Watchers only briefly meet or even hear about. Write about one of them this week. The Watcher and/or companions could certainly be in this story, but make a minor character its focus. Tell us about the courtship of Lord Webb and Lady Webb, or how Duc Aevar Wolf-Grin came to power, or what exactly happened when Woden met Waidwen, or what it was like for Raedric’s wife to carry a child born hollow despite her husband’s desperate attempts to prevent it. Flesh out one of the stories behind the various items your companions brought back to Caed Nua after their solo “stronghold” adventures, with the tantalizing hints of background that come with the item when the adventure is finished. Tell Lady Aelys Harond’s story from her perspective, or Kolsc’s struggle for revolution, or what the Steward of Caed Nua’s life was like before she had her soul bound to a throne, or what obstacles Magran’s priests faced in forging the Godhammer. Recount the events that brought some unfortunate soul to the Brackenbury Sanitarium, or how Maerwald reclaimed Caed Nua in the days before his Awakening. What about baby Vela in Twin Elms? If your Watcher spared her life, either to leave her with the more protective part of her foster family or to raise her in Caed Nua, write about this little girl’s life as she grows up in the next few years! Or perhaps another of the many minor characters sparks an idea. Marshal Forwyn, the delemgan sisters in Twin Elms, Aufra, Calisca, Heodan, Odema, Nedmar, Ranga, Wirtan, Hendyna, Bellasege, and many more are just waiting for you to tell the rest of their story. And even though technically this week is a PoE1 prompt, if there’s a minor character you met or heard of in Deadfire whose story calls to you, go with it! Bring someone to light, out of the shadow of the Watcher, this week.

Remember to tag your fic with #pillars prompts weekly and/or mention @pillarspromptsweekly for ribbon record-keeping. Fics posted to AO3 can be added to our collection there. And feel free to post this prompt’s badge, below, with your fic, or on your profile, or wherever you would like to use it!

[sedimentarydearwatson]

Neus backstory musings! Subject to change should canon slap me with conflicting info, but decently supported I think.

As noted, born to Calbandran / ocean folk sailors, who were part of a merchant company with bases in both Old Vailia and the Vailian Republics.

Since “murdered at birth” would make for a very short story, Neus drew a lucky straw in that her parents were somewhat dismayed to have produced a godlike child, but not superstitious enough to kill or abandon her - and, over the next few weeks, they moved past their initial reservations to love her as they would any other child.

(Neus means ‘snow’ in Catalan, it being one of the languages Vailian is based on. Make of that what you will.)

It did mean a lot of restrictions about where she went and when - her mother’s ship was the majority of her world for many years, with a few greatly-cherished forays onto land and a lot of wistful peering through portholes.

Much of the crew accepted or at least tolerated her, since her parents chose their hires carefully after she was born, but trouble brewed regardless; there was no stamping out the uneasy undercurrent entirely, and the wider merchant group was also less than pleased to have a death godlike on their ships. More dangerous than the prejudice, though, was those with ambition - Neus’ parents had significant shares in the company, and their removal would tip the hierarchical balance in certain people’s favour.

Things came to a head after a period in which the company had hit a downturn for several months straight, meaning tensions were high. The opportunists pounced on the opening to point fingers at the classical harbinger of ill fortune, plying viciously clever charisma to fan the embers of unease into real flames of violence.

When the fighting broke out, Neus was hastily swept from her ship and told to run - to hide in the Vailian Republic city they were docked at, until it was safe and her parents could come for her. She fled down unfamiliar streets, hood pulled over her head to mask her at least that little, and waited. And waited. And when dawn broke she tried to make her way back to the docks, only to realise she’d lost all sense of the way she’d come. Too frightened to ask for help, it wasn’t until the next morning that she found it to where her family had been, and by then the ships were gone.

(As an adult she does track down the company again, and finally confirms she was orphaned that night. In the interim period she’d sometimes wondered if they’d just left her.)

All of nine years old and having spent little time in cities at all, let alone on her own, Neus to this day counts the following two months as the worst time in her life. She stole when desperation turned to recklessness, but she had no knack for it and was rightfully terrified of what would happen if she were caught; the rest of the time, she begged where she was able, and dug through garbage where she was not. She kept herself as covered as she could, but still became well accustomed to the reactions she could expect should people realise what she was.

One day, she crossed some older youths who chased her down, pinned her to the ground, and tried to tear off her facial growths. It would have ended bloodily had they not been suddenly - and quite literally - punted off her. The youths fled in one direction; Neus’ feeble attempt to scramble in the other was forestalled by a hand fisting itself in her collar, and she found herself dangling from midair like a scruffed kitten under the resigned eye of a coastal aumaua wearing a tarnished sunburst badge at his throat.

Six months before, the Saint’s War had ended in fire and blasphemy (at least according to some quarters). Those not killed in the battle had slunk to safer lands to lick their wounds, and it turned out one such group of slinkers occupied the shabby building Neus had been accosted behind. They were a sorry lot indeed; a couple of acolytes and soldiers following a woman whose faith had been so badly broken by the defeat and ensuing silence from her god that her blessings carried little weight anymore.

The aumaua, Barasse, took the struggling Neus inside anyway. At first the priest regarded the child as expected - with the weary shadow of compassion and orders that her wounds be treated, but no attempt at healing made. Equally tired of the malaise they had all been living under since the War, Barasse made an offhand comment about how strangely convenient it was to have found a godlike in need right outside their door.

The priest hesitated, and called Neus back; clasped her face in her hands and echoed that yes, perhaps it was curious, to find a child blessed by death, by the god of cycles and renewal, at their door in these trying times when Eothas himself was claimed dead and lost to them - in that moment, desperate hope latched onto the handhold provided, broken faith kindled anew, and the priest healed the wounds Neus had received in the scuffle.

Neus found herself being spun in delighted circles through the air and declared a sign, a missive, a miracle! (Neus was too petrified to protest.)

And so Neus ended up staying with the priests, because there was food and shelter, as well as ample affection. The trauma of her experiences had left her wary and near to feral, and earning her trust was not a quick process. Over time, though, the kind attentions of the Eothasians softened her, and she came to enjoy listening to their prayers and joining in their rituals. She liked the message they preached - of benevolence and honesty, traits they’d shown her when so few others had.

Foregone conclusion: Neus ended up becoming a full convert, training in the Eothasian ways alongside the other acolytes. She learned to hone the edge of her faith such that it shaped the very world around her, while Barasse taught her first the use of the quarterstaff, then the proper weapons of an Eothasian, the morningstar and flail. He also provided a tempering opinion on the events of the Saint’s War in comparison to some of the others, who truly believed Waidwen to have been Eothas taken flesh and still harboured significant anger towards Dyrwood.

Neus lived among the priests for some ten odd years - not in the same shabby building, as they travelled a bit to spread their ministry rather than set up in a stable temple. Eventually the leading priest died of age and illness, however, and without her steadying leadership the group began to argue and fracture under their differing opinions - those still bitter about the war against those who wanted the ugly past forgotten.

The infighting became too much for Neus, who still remembered well how that had gone once in her life already (and indeed, there were some pointed comments directed her way as one of the head priest’s favourites). She ended up parting ways with the group over it, with Barasse going his own way as well. It was not an easy decision - she actually had a serious crisis about the whole thing - but it was the moment she decided she believed in Eothas’ core teachings and Bugger Everything Else. She would be kind, she would be good, she would be everything they had been to a child in need. The world was ugly but that just made every choice to do the right thing all the more beautiful. Etc etc. Stubbornly optimistic mode engaged.

And lo, she commenced wandering around Eora for another five or so years until she hitched a ride with a caravan and everything went dramatically pear-shaped.

Oh god this is so long and I am so tired.