dewitthedges-blog

[solas-backpack-mug]

the watcher publically blaming the leaden key for something is so funny. like imagine someone telling you irl that the illuminati created christianity, burned the library of alexandria, and also did 9/11

the watcher's source? they talked with that one really old guy and had cryptic visions of the past

[ampleappleamble]

The Elf and the Orlan's Wedding

—

"Hey. You'll marry me, won't you?"

Aloth had spent the last five years of his life honing his skills and reflexes in his mission to hunt down and destroy one of the most dangerous cults on the face of Eora, but somehow he still couldn't help but be utterly bested by just a few little words. Axa had a way of doing that– cutting past all his pretense and politesse, punching through all his meticulously constructed defenses with just a few simple words, striking at the very heart of him. It was part of why he loved her, and no small part, either.

He pulled her closer as he attempted to sit up in her spacious sleeping berth, struggling to scrape enough of his brain back together from the one-two punch of vigorous, passionate lovemaking followed up by that question to formulate an answer for her. But despite his best efforts, he found that the best he could manage was a feeble, "I beg your pardon?"

She laughed and nuzzled her face into his chest, his bare skin warm against her brow. She'd known the question would shock him, but she also knew that no matter how carefully she phrased it, there really was no way to ask a man like Aloth a question like that without shocking him. "Sorry to surprise you. But it's something I've been thinking about for a while now," she continued. "After we've arrived back in the Dyrwood and settled a few matters, gotten Caed Nua's reconstruction properly underway, taken some time to recover from all this– there'd really be nothing stopping us." She snuggled closer. "And I know the challenges we'll be facing in this new, uncertain world would feel a lot less daunting with you by my side. So... why not get married?"

Axa paused, then, tensed up in Aloth's arms. "That is, if you'd like to." She lifted her head to look at him, her violet eyes soft and glittering in the lamplight. "Would you like to?"

He studied her face, rosy and gorgeous and full of hope. Her proposal wasn't entirely unexpected– after all, it was only natural that she should want to take their relationship further, especially after all they'd been through together in the Deadfire– but it was still a bit overwhelming, actually experiencing such a thing himself instead of merely reading about it in a novel or watching strangers act it out in a stageplay. His head was swimming, his heart was hammering in his chest, his stomach was fluttering madly– but all the same, he couldn't help but smile at her.

"Of course. Of course I would," he murmured at last, brushing a lock of hair from her brow. "I can think of no greater pleasure."

The tears finally came, welled in her eyes as she beamed up at him. "Oh, Aloth," she whispered, pressing her face into his shoulder and squeezing him tight. "You have no idea how happy you've just made me."

"How happy I've made you?" He laughed, surprised to find himself blinking away tears as well. "I'm to be the consort of the Lady of Caed Nua! The brave, kind, beautiful heroine who uncovered the cause of the Hollowborn Crisis and saved the Dyrwood, the indomitable spirit who defies death and deities alike– and of all people, you want to be mine, to be my– my–"

My bride. Axa. My bride, my love, my wife. The reality of it suddenly struck him with its full gravitas, and an indescribable emotion washed over him. "I love you, Axa. Truly."

Giggles mingled with her sobs, and she scrubbed at her wet eyes with a fuzzy fist. "And I love you," she replied softly. She looked up at him again, grinning. "You'll plan everything, right? I was never very good at that sort of thing."

Aloth sighed, slumping back down against the pillows as Axa cackled. "I should have known," he groaned, shaking his head good- naturedly at his newly-betrothed.

"Yes, you should have," she agreed, spreading out on top of him, making herself comfortable. "Planning a fancy formal event– such as, say, the wedding of a landed thaynu who is returning triumphantly from a world-shaking, death-defying mission in the Deadfire– plays much more to your strengths than to mine. Of course, I'll help as much as I'm able. How about I find us an officiant?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Xoti, then? Or were you thinking of asking Vatnir?"

She paused for a moment, her brow furrowed in consternation. "Gods, are those two the only priests I know?" she muttered, resting her chin again Aloth's sternum, and she sighed. "Typical of me, I suppose, to shun all clergy but the most death-obsessed misfits. Even my resident cleric at Caed Nua was a morose Berathian."

Was. Axa's smile faltered, and she abruptly went quiet, unfixing her gaze, lowering her eyelids.

"Well, given what we know of the gods, is it any surprise our priestly acquaintances gravitate toward the morbid?" Aloth tucked a lock of her burgundy hair behind her ear, let his hand linger on her cheek. He'd noticed the sudden chill in her demeanor– reminded of Caed Nua, no doubt, of her myriad responsibilities back at home, the dead waiting to be buried– and had hoped he could warm her back up a bit, but it appeared that even his wry musings weren't enough to soothe her melancholia.

"We're going to be alright, aren't we?" Axa's voice was soft and serious, and she reflexively curled in on herself, clinging to her lover as she contemplated the future ahead of them. "Kith, I mean."

He wrapped her in his arms, warm and steady, and let out a shaky sigh. "I don't know. With the Wheel destroyed and the cycle of reincarnation stalled indefinitely, we'll certainly have our work cut out for us. But if there's one thing in common between all peoples and cultures on Eora, I would posit that it is our stubbornness." Aloth smiled, ran a hand through her thick, soft hair. "With people like you working to guide and support us, kith may yet learn to band together and channel that indefatigable will of ours into finding an equitable solution for all this mess. In any case, I can't really see us all just... giving up. Especially not after all we've seen, all we've been through."

The two lay together in silence for a while, his hand in her hair, her ear pressed to his heart. It had always fascinated her, how elf hearts beat so much more slowly than orlans'.

"The Elf and the Orlan's Wedding," she murmured.

"I... do hope you're not intending to have me write that on the invitations." He allowed himself a small smile. When she hadn't responded, he was sure he'd failed to cheer her, but maybe he'd conceded too soon?

"It's a children's song," she laughed, propping herself up a bit, "that I was just now reminded of. It's about an elf and an orlan at their wedding, and everyone in attendance is bemoaning the foolishness of such a union. 'She'll outlive you by two centuries, it's a waste of time for you both'... That sort of sentiment."

"Charming," Aloth deadpanned.

"Oh, yes," she chuckled, "very much so. Of course, by the end, the lyrics reveal that the titular elf and orlan are well aware of the vast disparity in their lifespans, but they've decided they love each other too much to let something like that get in the way of enjoying their time together."

He smiled knowingly. "Sounds familiar."

She smiled back. "The moral of the story, of course, is that one cannot waste one's life worrying about what others think, about the 'proper' ways of going about this or that, and that it's better to live in the moment and enjoy what you have while you have it."

"Sounds very familiar," Aloth sighed. "But if kith spend too much energy on enjoying the present, we won't be able to prepare for the troubles of the future until they're upon us."

"Ah, but that's just another reason the title characters chose to marry," Axa grinned. "It's easy to miss the significance when you're a child, but there are a few lines in the song regarding the orlan's horrible estranged family complaining about how the orlan's assets will now be bequeathed to his elf wife upon his death, thus keeping it out of their greedy paws for at least 200 more years, if not forever."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That's not your reason for proposing, is it?"

"No!" She laughed, lightly swatting at his chest with the back of one hand. "Although it'll be damned funny, I have to admit, sticking it to all the little Dyrwoodan lordlings with their eyes on my land who were just planning on waiting for me to die in a few decades." A wicked grin spread across her little face, and Aloth couldn't help but laugh.

"Pray tell, then," he smiled, running a hand up and down her back, ruffling her fur and smoothing it back down, "what exactly is the point you're trying to make by bringing up this song, my dear?"

Axa toyed with a lock of his hair, biting her lip and staring at nothing in particular, before finally admitting: "You know, I'm not sure. I definitely lost the plot somewhere along the line, there. I suppose I was trying to draw some sort of parallel between The Elf and the Orlan's Wedding, and our wedding, and... and the challenges ahead of us all in regards to repairing the cycle of reincarnation... something about planning for the future while still making sure to enjoy the present..." She scoffed at herself, resting her chin on Aloth's breast again. "Maybe I was simply randomly reminded of a silly song from my youth and I'm trying too hard to stretch it to link it to current events. Or I'm just tired and rambling and not making any sense at all."

"No," Aloth assured her, "you definitely had a reason for bringing it up, even if you can't quite articulate why." He stroked the back of her ear, staring pensively at the ceiling. "I think, perhaps, you wanted to reassure yourself that even if some new version of the Wheel ends up never getting built, even if it turns out that the days of kith are truly numbered and our end is inevitable... that doesn't mean you need to mourn every day yet to come as if it's already been lived in vain. As a Chanter, and given the subject we'd been discussing, it's only natural the realization would come to you in the form of a song about marriage."

She snuggled close to him, sighing contentedly. "You see why I want you to plan the wedding?" she murmured. "You make everything make sense."

"I learned it from you, you know," he replied, nuzzling the top of her head. "Funny how that works, isn't it? Like a two-piece puzzle. We complete each other."

"Thought that advice sounded familiar," Axa giggled. "Should listen to myself– and you– more often."

"That's a given." Aloth went to kiss her forehead, and she surprised him yet again by scooting forward and craning her neck to press her lips to his instead.

"What about Engrim?" she whispered sweetly, her smile still brushing his. "He's a priest of Magran. If we kept the booze away from him until after the ceremony–"

"Absolutely not, my love." His breath tickled her nose. "No wedding of mine will utilize a Magranite ceremony, and certainly not one conducted by a lush."

The little woman laughed, pressing her face to his neck. "Come on, I'm running out of priests!"

"You truly can't think of any others?" He kissed her temple, sighing with a mix of contendedness and exasperation at his little bride.

"Well, I do know a certain Glamfellen who's a priest of Wael, but we're not exactly on speaking terms." She tried a wry grin, but it morphed into a grimace halfway through. "Ugh. Not as funny as I thought it'd be. Sorry."

Aloth chuckled. "It's decided, then. We'll have a secular wedding."

"Sounds good to me, actually," Axa replied. "Never had much need of the gods anyway."

—

[rcclouder]

Going to save a spot here in your inbox dgwhdjd

Info dump on your Watcher?

(But save this for when I finish my run and when you feel you've shaped them enough) 💀💀💀

Yea!!!! Ig I should start talking about them Spoilers for Pillars 1+2 sry kitty u gotta finish the game first

Eliud was born in The Living Lands to two orlan parents. They were expecting a litter, but all that came was a single, grey orlan with strange wrinkles covering her cheeks. The midwife assumed it was just extreme dry-skin and gives them a balm, assuming everything was fine, until Eliud's mother fainted and died. When another midwife came to check on the mother, she realized the child was a death-godlike, and the mother's death was a message from Berath. Eliud's father refuses to cull his daughter, taking everything from his home, the two sailed towards The Eastern Reach, landing in the deserts of Ixamitl. All though for the first decade of their time there, they were mostly unbothered, living a quiet life moving around in the savannas. One day, when they decide to settle in a small community, their discovery of Eliud, now with a full carapace growth on her head, caused an outcry of a coming death for the community and demanded that she must be sacrificed in order to appease the gods from bring any plagues. She was pulled from her beaten father's arms and tied upon a post for several days, until one day, they found the post empty and her father missing. - Much of Eliud's days between her escape to the day she decided to follow a caravan towards Dyrwood blurred, unknown if the memories leaked into her head were really hers or thoughts that screamed loudly from the world. Eventually, someone who caught her peering into a strangers thoughts exclaimed she was a cipher, and offered to teach her during their travels towards Dyrwood. With a cane in hand, she finds herself stuck in an old ruin with two others of the travelers. - After ending the Hollowborn crisis, Eliud gains recognition of being a Benevolent being, willing to assist and give shelter to weary travelers who pass upon Caed Nua. Many of her friends leave her at Twin Elms, leaving with baby Vela, whom she promised to bring to Eir Glanfath one day with Hiravias when she was of age. 5 years later, Caed Nua was destroyed. The news spread fast, reaching all the way to Edér, who just unboarded a ship from Aedyr. Rushing to the castle, he found the bloodied ground, and a large footprint with the mangled body of Eliud. - A charming orlan shiphand, which Edér remembered somewhat fondly, looking a bit like his fallen friend by his side in the casket, suddenly fell ill, eventually being found dead in his berth, a few moments later, he returned to life, claiming to know everything about Edér, until revealing he was the Watcher Eliud, inhabiting the body of this orlan after her body was destroyed beyond mending. She takes on the orlan's, Wendelin, identity, most of her missing memories after half of her soul/memories was taken by Eothas. Feeling comfortable in the new body, he began his chase towards the god. OK Meta lore. I'll talk about Eliud if it's POE1 related, Wendelin if its POE2, but they're both the same person, and I consider that Wendelin would be considered genderfluid and respond to either identities. When Wendelin get's the other part of his soul back (which was mostly Eliud's essence and most of the memories of PoE1, there's a big inner conflict about 1. Their completely different personalities, Eliud being more diplomatic and benevolent, and Wendelin being more ruthless and deceitful and 2. Eliud's utter grief about Hiravias leaving, and now with Wendelin's thing with Serafen going on, there's a bit of guilt about maybe they're substituting their feelings in Serafen and using him yknow?

[dragonologist-phd]

Xeranthemum

Another flower prompt fill, this time for one suggest by @grumpy-jedi! Thanks for the prompt! (also, I’ve never heard the flower name ‘xeranthemum’ before and I love it and it’s going on my list of names for potential future OC’s)

Xeranthemum: eternity, immortality

(AO3)

Nona wonders how the world will look back on these times. She knows the world as a whole will not remember her specifically; that is not how the Leaden Key works. But the events of the Saint’s War and the Hollowborn Crisis will be etched into Eora’s history, as will Woedica’s eventual rise.

It is wholly unlikely that the writers of Eora’s history will form the correct connections between the events, how the first two were necessary to facilitate the third. Kith of the future will not see the sacrifice for what it was, and Nona cannot blame them, not when the truth is so much larger than what they can comprehend. Even Nona and the other Leaden Key members who know more than most cannot hope to see all of the connections, the causes and effects set into motion over millennia. No mortal could.

Thaos does. Thaos remembers everything, people and events from times long past. He speaks of them sometimes, although not often, and not in detail. Some memories, it seems, are more difficult than others. More painful. Nona reflects that it is a wonder Thaos has managed to hold on to his stability all of this time when he can still reach back so far, to lives and memories that ended centuries ago.

Nona will be one of those memories, eventually. She hopes she is a good one, the kind that comforts rather than aches.

If at least that much is true, it does not matter what the rest of the world remembers.

Flower Prompts

[mistralrunner]

if you want to answer them, 5 and 9 for the deadfire ask meme? 😊

Ahhh, thank you! My response is a bit late, but managed to get it finished in time for Watcher Wednesday!

Was your Watcher glad to have Eder, Aloth and Pallegina back again (if indeed they did)? Was there any other companion that they would have liked to have back in their party?

Yessss. Having dear friends around meant a lot to Sinead, especially given this was her first time away from the Eastern Reach. She might have kept in contact with them to some degree after the Hollowborn crisis and White March adventures, but she still missed them. She was also glad she could do something to get Pallegina back from exile given how much the Republics mean to her (although she was concerned given it seemed a rather conditional pardon and the ducs and VTC honestly don’t deserve Pallegina but that’s a whole other post).

Plus, with the fragile state of her identity with that much of her soul torn from her, it was quite helpful to have some familiar faces to ground her (seriously, Sinead wasn’t exactly herself after her death and I was debating whether she even remembered Eder and then Eder made that comment about slapping her each day to try to wake her and it reminded her of all the jokes he made about dumping a bucket of water on her to wake her up when her Awakening was getting worse). There were a number of times she asked them about their travels together as she tried to piece together what remained of her memories. It admittedly did take her old friends some time to realize exactly how much she needed their help given how good she was at seeming put together even with her acknowledged memory loss…

(Additionally, she was a little more private about her Awakening early on, so it was good to have people around who knew about her past life, particularly when something related to it came up.)

She would have loved to have Kana back in the party. She misses her chanter buddy so much. Plus I feel like those two scholar nerds would have had some very interesting conversations.  

Which faction did your Watcher side with in the end, if any? Was there a particular reasoning behind their decision?

Sinead was very pro-Huana and supported them reclaiming their heritage and resisting colonialism (while still getting high reputation with the other factions cause diplomacy), but she drew the line at Onekaza’s demands for alliance. It was a cunning plan on Onekaza’s part… except for asking a bleeding heart and honest reputation extraordinaire of all people to commit mass murder and then lie about it in court. Especially cause at that point Sinead was tired of kith and gods expecting her to be a weapon, and cares too much about all the people of the Deadfire that call it home to kill some for a supposed greater good.

So she sailed off to Ukaizo with just her crew and allies, and between her ship upgrades, Tekehu’s watershaping, and my headcanon that Sinead and Tekehu trained all of the crew of The Truth’s Vestige in some degree of weather chanting, they could reasonably get through Ondra’s Mortar without faction help.

But alas the Deadfire is apparently in chaos and shambles cause the game offered no collaboration route. I do like to think Sinead found and inspired others who were willing to work together, even if they lacked the power of the major faction leaders, and they’re currently studying Ukaizo to repair the Wheel and helping people in the Deadfire as the factions war.

[impossible-rat-babies]

OC Introduction meme

I wanted to do this meme again, kinda, for Aoife just to have the info floating around :)

Full Name: Aoife (Ee-fa), Watcher of Caed Nua

Gender/Sexuality: Queer. Gender and sexuality are all sorts of confusing for him since many treat him as otherworldly and people in certain parts of Eora legally consider him to be without gender or sex.

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Ethnicity/Species: Elvish Death Godlike.

Birthplace & Birthdate: Born in Midwinter (Majivèrno), 2753 in a small village in the Ixamitl Plains. He had two mothers; one was a Aedyrn wood elf and the other a wood elf native to the Ixamitl Plains. Sadly, due to him being a godlike and a death godlike at that, his Aedryn mother died in childbirth. Rather than killing him at birth, which his mother wouldn’t have been blamed for, she showed compassion and raised him with the same love and care any normal child would receive.

Age: 70 in PoE, 75 in Deadfire

Things he enjoys: Reading/collecting books, being lazy, dancing, singing, caring for his bow, traveling, sailing.

Phobias/Fears: Mobs/large groups of people, falling from a great height, losing the people he cares about

What they would be famous for: Being a Watcher and the one to end the Hollowborn crisis in the Dyrwood. He’d also be known for being a Death godlike and being exceptionally kind. For a time he was a well known pirate/sailor in the Deadfire and being a “treasure hunter” and guard for expeditions by various nobles and institutions in Aedyr. (He worked for the academy Aloth attended and they did meet, albeit briefly and never got to know each other).

Fave Movie/Book genre: He loves all sorts of books. His mother would habitually read to him as a child and as a result he reads heavily as an adult. He’s drawn a lot to obscure/old books, especially ones on magic and ciphers. Both are relevant to him. Later on he develops a keen interest in getting his hands on books in Engwithan, if they still exist.

Least fave movie/book genre: He doesn’t particularly have books he hates, but he isn't keen on animancy books with descriptions on practical practices. He isn’t keen on reading how exactly the process works.

Favorite Food: He enjoys anything and everything really. He’s been a drifter for many decades and has eaten all manner of things. He does enjoy salty or sweet however.

Talents/Powers: He is a Cipher, and a damn good one even before he became a Watcher. Granted, it’s an ability that has shaped itself naturally and in response to his own conflicts in life, so he can take an unconventional way with his abilities. However, he is keen to never step into minds or project his own head without the permission of others. He is exceptionally good at using his abilities in offensive manners.

Why someone might love them: Aoife is a very benevolent and compassionate person. He looks to the care of others down on their luck and is keen to find solutions to their problems, following through on such situations regardless of the danger. He isn’t selfish or mean and can come off as a bit of an oblivious doormat since he is so kind and can be humorless. But he is willing to try and see the best in others and try his best to see them down a successful and well meaning path.

Why someone might hate them: Mainly comes down to his appearance and what exactly that means to other people. He is a Death Godlike and no one wants to see such a physical representation of the God of Death. It’s an ill omen and a cause of hatred from lack of understanding. He’s treated like an object quite often since people can’t seem to understand that he can hear and see them.

How they change: He grows drastically as a result of what he sees and learns of the world. Being a Watcher changed him into a more “worldly” person in that he saw more of how the world around him was built and the people inhabiting it. How the world was stitched together. He learns a lot about how fragile he really is with him being so small and making such large choices. It is quite terrifying for him and he hardly feels competent or worthy of making such choices. Aofie isn’t one to get angry, but rather search for answers. He wonders and puzzles at why he was chosen for what he had to do. He isn’t particularly religious, mainly revering Berath out of all of the deities and even that it’s just a matter of him questioning them most often, so he wants real answers. He does get his answer from Iovara along with answers to questions he didn't think to ask. The reality doesn’t sink in until much later.

By the time Deadfire roles around, he is still that kind person, but he’s less inclined to be strictly honest with people and he is more rational in his choices and methods. He also grows to see himself in a more positive light and not being so hard on himself for how he looks. He doesn't have to work so hard to make himself look nice to be desirable by others. 

He grows deeply disillusioned with the gods and does what he does for them because he’s really got no choice. The people of the world grow to matter more to him and the need for them to make their own choices and shape their own lives grows very strong. He sees the gods--particularly after the reveal that he is little more than a toy to serve the greater good and that neither the gods nor Berath, his third mother in a way, care for him--as nothing more than what they truly were. It doesn’t make him sad, but it makes him wonder and search for answers even though he will never find them. Iovara gave him all the answers he needed.

Why you love them: I love Aoife because he’s a character that I’ve never really played before. He’s benevolent as hell, but he doesn't have that edge of sarcasm or humor to him. He’s not particularly a good kind cinnamon roll type either. On the surface, he’s kinda boring. But, deep down he’s got his edges and his reasons for himself. He can be harsh in his honesty and he feels an intense need to look and be extremely nice so people take him for more than what he looks like. He’s desperate in his need for people to take him beyond the physical to where he can grow self destructive. But I do love his pure little heart and how he tries his hardest and loves books. 

[rannadylin]

Sun in Shadow, Shadow in Sun

Thought I wasn’t going to have a fic to post for my own prompt this first week of @pillarspromptsweekly, but then @serenbach86′s fic gave me ideas about what Vi would do after the end of the game, and then I remembered one of @ohvexahlia‘s wonderful prompts for me in the fic swap (in fact, the one I thought I was going to write for originally but then the cookie idea took over...) was to write about the ways Violet worships Eothas, and...this all came together in about an hour.

Which is good, because I must be up early to teach tomorrow and I should be in bed by now.

Word count: 969

Rating: G

Pairing: Watcher Violet/Edér, but only just barely. They’re dancing around their crushes so much even at the end of the game it’ll be shocking if they act on it before Deadfire. (Though...that is a fic I might have to write, too.)

Also on AO3

Violet had knelt in dozens of Eothas’ temples throughout her journeys. Some things were always the same: the candles burning to banish shadows to Berath’s realm, the hymns and chanted prayers, the celebrations at sunrise. In other ways, the homes of the god differed greatly, from humble one-room sanctuaries like the one back home where she’d grown up in the faith and eventually devoted herself to her god’s business, to grand cathedrals like the ones she’d seen in Aedyr and Readceras -- and like the one in Gilded Vale must have been, once.

But nothing could compare to the chapel in which she now knelt, for this, she had built with her own hands to honor a god whose claim to the title she now had cause to question.

Well, Edér had helped, of course.

There was no belfry to display it to the world, but the Candle of the Endless Dawn burned brightly in its lantern from the rafters as the two of them finished the chant: Day comes soon, prepare for the dawn. Nothing is hidden from his reach.

Just as well, Violet thought, that his reach is so far. It’s got a ways to go to find this place. It was unlikely anything more than metaphorical sun’s rays would ever shine on this underground chapel, renovated in the past months from one of the chambers below her keep, in the Paths of Od Nua, gathering dust now that she and her friends had cleared them so thoroughly of xaurips, ogres, drakes, and even one fearsome dragon.

With the Hollowborn Crisis -- and her own soul’s crisis -- dealt with, Violet had returned home to Caed Nua and considered her life’s work. She’d served in Eothas’ temple most of her life, so when circumstances had required her to leave home and family behind, she had optimistically regarded it as a chance to be her god’s candle in all the wide world. She had wandered far, ministering to the faithful in many parts of Eora -- but that was easy, where it was still legal. Eothas might have been silent in the years since the Saint’s War, but the tenets of the faith were clear and Violet threw herself into works of healing, charity, comfort to those hoping for better days. The Dyrwood was another matter entirely, but she was firm in her calling and all the more determined to make Caed Nua a haven for what remained of Eothas’ scattered and outlawed followers.

The (in her humble opinion) best of that lot got to his feet now, prayers finished, and reached down to help her up. The twinkle in Edér’s eye mirrored the candlelight as he glanced around the chapel. “This place…” he paused, cleared his throat.

“I know it’s not much,” Violet said softly. “Not compared to what you had in Gilded Vale.”

Edér picked up one of the candles from their box by the altar, ready for prayers of the faithful. “Are you kidding, Vi?” he murmured, running his fingers along the smooth wax. “It’s incredible. Amazing. It’s been years since I could say those words out loud in any sorta company.” He glanced back at her with a grin. “Nice acoustics for it down here. Oh, and the company’s not bad either.”

Violet rolled her eyes and turned briskly for the door to hide the blush and the ruffling of her fur. “Good, since you’re stuck with me for a priest here.”

“Maybe not for so long,” Edér mused, then hastened to amend as he caught up to her at the door, “I mean -- no complaints! You’re fine -- I mean, it was good -- really good. I could listen to you lead the prayers anytime, Vi. Ain’t heard anything so sweet as that in years. And you’ll do sermons, too, won’t you?”

“Sure,” she said as they took the stairs back up to the keep. “Although it’s going to be strange delivering sermons to a congregation of one, Edér.”

“That’s what I was saying,” he said, a spark of enthusiasm springing up in his tone. “Might not be just the two of us for long. I sorta met some people, back in Defiance Bay.”

Violet turned to him, eyes wide with hope. “Eothasians?”

Edér nodded. “Asked around a bit. Carefully! ‘Sides, enough people know my, ah, history that they’d have been seeking me out if I hadn’t done it first. Found out there’s a network of sorts, people meeting in their homes, in the catacombs, wherever, just quietly keeping the light alive. They call it the Night Market.”

A curious title, she thought, for servants of the sun. Or curiously fitting, when the light was driven underground to places like Caed Nua’s chapel. There was more Sun in Shadow here than there had ever been beneath Burial Isle. “And they’d come from Defiance Bay for this? Our little chapel?”

“Dunno, but seems there’s more of us in these parts than we figured, too. A woman in Brackenbury gave me a letter of introduction to a cell leader in Dyrford, and another on a farm less than a day’s walk from Caed Nua. Folks have been clinging to the chants they know, coming together in their cellars for fear of Raedric’s men. They have no priest. Just prayers and hymns and whispers to recite ‘em in.” They’d reached the end of the master stair down to the Paths. Edér swung the trap door out of the way, pulled himself through, and again reached down a hand for Violet, helping her out into the light of the courtyard. He kept hold of her hand a moment longer, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he repeated, “They have no priest, Vi.”

She squeezed his hand and said with a smile like a sunbeam, “I guess they do, now.”

[sedimentarydearwatson]

The conclusion of Neus’ story! In which I’m starting to think it’s impossible to put a character through an Obsidian game and have them come out happier for it.

Okay, straight up: why is it that every time I decide to create a religious character for the sake of exploring what it’s like to live in a fantasy world with tangible magical and divine influences, the story smugly pulls a “the gods aren’t real” twist on me. I’m not trying to relive my own passage to atheism, damn you all!

I did like that this twist was more nuanced than some of the others - that it wasn’t just overly skilled magicians on a power trip pulling strings from behind their Great Wizard of Oz curtain, yet again. The gods of Eora were designed to be what their creators believed gods should be, and their powers are present and undeniable. The issue is therefore not whether there are beings capable of bestowing blessings and curses and miracles, but what it truly means to be divine; that part of the faith granted to gods is the faith there is some great, grand purpose to the trials of life and the demands they make of their followers, which is immediately undermined by the truth of them being entities constructed by kith. The whole question of “what does it mean to live in a world without assurance?” struck me deep. I might not have been looking to re-walk my personal journey, but at least they correctly identified one of the hardest things about it.

It flopped a little in the sense that...there was remarkably little fallout? The gods aren’t real and nobody fucking cares, I guess? Hiravias is still all about Wael and somehow this actually made Eder feel better about what happened with Eothas. I’m sure the sequel will explore things further, though, and there’s arguably an implication that your Watcher’s “long journey” they commence on at the end involves them wandering around to spread the word that the gods are technically real but maybe don’t blindly trust they know best just by token of being gods because, well, they’re more our children than the other way around.

The good news is that, having already been horribly burned by DA:I, I deliberately crafted Neus’ faith with a measure of...robustness, so to speak. Eothas went dark well before she fell in with the priesthood, after all, so the bulk of her faith has always been in the message she believes he represents and not reliant on direct communion with the big sun kahuna himself. It’s a shock to the system and she doesn’t take it with so easy a shrug and a grin as Hiravias, but it doesn’t crunch her beliefs into dust then and there. Which is good. Because the boss-fight against Thaos would have been really hard if the healer was shit outta magic thanks to an ill-timed crisis of faith. (She probably wasn’t at the top of her game, though.)

Act III was still a hellishly hard slog for Neus, mostly because of her soul ancestor crawling steadily out from the dark nethers of the hindbrain to become so present that by endgame they were just about duel-wielding the body. And Neus’ soul ancestor...was not a good person. Kohva, as I’m becoming inclined to call her (because if you’re going to steal one word for snow, might as well stick with the theme), basically ended up shaping herself as a deceitful coward: was in no small part drawn to Thaos’ cause through the promise of forgiveness of all past and future wrongs and the comforting protection of Divine Approval, and walked a very thin line between respect and fear of Thaos himself. She lied when he asked whether she knew the Creitum heretic, mostly out of fear he’d judge her for the association but also as a feeble, reflexive shying away from where that association might lead; tragically this probably makes this the bravest thing she’s ever done. When Thaos confronted her again on the subject, however, she crumbled, and ended up giving her baby sister over to the Inquisition’s less than tender mercies - but not before realising Iovara’s “heresies” may have actually been truths.

No gods, no redemption. A mentor who had lied to her, and who made no bones about the fact he’d just as quickly tie her to the pyre if she strayed from his path. I don’t think she lived all that much longer after Iovara’s passing, utterly despairing of a way forward and terrified of torture, and she died knowing there’d been no reason for any of what she’d done.

So! Being the sort-of-reincarnation of Kohva ix Ensios is not the most delightful of past-times. During the earlier months of the awakening Neus only had to put up with a fearful, cringing presence that ebbed and waned depending on the stimulus, but as the memories kept unravelling a real person began to take shape and it was no one Neus wanted to know. Kohva didn’t tend to yank control of the body away for long speeches, at least, but she was a flighty impulse at the best of times, and a frustratingly unreliable backseat driver at worst. Kohva didn’t remember exactly what she’d done - and she didn’t particularly want to. It was like dragging a squalling anchor around inside her head.

The powerful urge to reach back through time and throttle her own soul did not prevent Neus from making progress in Twin Elms, however - namely, running errands for the gods in order to gain enough favour to breach spooky hell island and pin Thaos down to throttle him instead. 

Neus was sympathetic to Pallegina’s raging at Hylea, but didn’t really have similar issues when speaking with Berath. Partly due to being quite satisfied with the mother and father she was born to, and partly due to Berath’s general nature - they’re not exactly known to be the chatty sort - she’d never looked on the god of cycles as any kind of a parental figure. She had plenty of mixed feelings about being a death godlike, yes, but not that many quibbles about Berath’s part in it. As it was, she actually ended up striking her bargain with her benefactor, as returning the stolen souls of the Hollowborn to the reincarnation cycle seemed the safest, stablest way of handling the crisis.

(She did find Wael’s offer to just loose the souls to find their own paths tempting, down in Court...but a promise is a promise, and Neus traded too heavily on her honesty to renege at the last moment on a cranky whim. Going by the ending slides, it’s a damn good thing she stuck with it. These guys are rather spiteful when jilted, yow.)

The reunion with Iovara’s soul in the Court was about as emotional as you’d expect. Just as with Maerwald, Neus’ mind was coming apart under the strain of Kohva’s awakening and hallucinated memories, and in many ways it was neither individual who lead the conversation but a confused blending of both: Kohva’s anguish and Neus’ forthright honesty finally leading to closure between the sister souls.

The blending carried through to the final confrontation with Thaos, both personas reaching rare agreement in wanting him to maybe just fuck right off already - and once defeated, Neus held his soul in her palm for a long moment, trying to decide what to do with him. She knew, rather well, how being forced to live with your mistakes was a keen punishment...but there was too much spite in that action for it to be comfortable, and as doggedly and relentlessly as he had pursued his goals she just wasn’t sure it was safe to loose him back into the cycle. She tore the soul apart: quickly and mercifully, as he had never taught Kohva how.

And then she gave Skaen and Woedica an emphatic middle finger, whipped the souls back into the reincarnation vortex, and promptly keeled over for an extremely overdue nap.

And lo, all was well in Dyrwood! Kohva didn’t disappear entirely, but she quietened down so as to be little more than the occasional flicker like a distant echo of emotion, easily disregarded if desired. Most of the companions did alright for themselves, though Pallegina got banished for trying to do the right thing boo, and Durance apparently burned himself alive because I neglected to do his sidequest, RIP that guy. Sagani would become a respected elder, Kana went a-sailing, Eder would hook up with the Eothasian underground, and Hiravias happily romped around as the Autumn Druid. Aloth began dismantling the Leaden Key. Grieving Mother went back to midwifery.

And Neus sat down on a rock to ponder on what to do with all she’d learned. The entities they called gods were real and powerful and capable of inspiring people to great things: she had no issue with that. They needed to be understood for what they were, though. It went against all she believed it to let the world keep turning on a lie.

But hey, she mused, watching her spider spin a web between her hands. Plenty of time to get to it. Surely the world had had enough crises for one cycle.

[cue Deadfire]

[ampleappleamble]

—

It was a day's hike to the cliffs, and a day's hike back. Pallegina went anyway, of course.

It was a good opportunity to assess the members of this ragtag band she was joining up with, as combatants and as people. Overall, she was fairly impressed with their martial skills– their tactics and group cohesion were sound, but she was sure to make note of their evident lack of formal training and quality equipment. She'd found herself pleasantly surprised at their generosity and inclusiveness, sharing food and drink and smoke and stories as freely with their feathered newcomer as they did with one another. No one had even brought up her "divine heritage" until they'd been sitting around the campfire that first night, and the aumaua who'd broached the subject had actually managed to look appropriately bashful as he'd done so. Although in retrospect, an Avian Godlike woman in a brotherhood of paladins probably wasn't too outlandish a concept for these kith, considering that their squad leader was apparently an Awakened Watcher.

Pallegina had been fielding annoying, invasive questions posed by strangers about her body and her soul for her entire life, but Axa was a newly-minted freak, it seemed, and so was not quite sick of talking about it just yet. And her friends weren't either: with minimal prompting, Aloth had recounted her nightmares and her past life memories, Edér had remembered her staring at the tree in Gilded Vale for nearly half an hour, Kana had practically rhapsodized about her conversations with ghosts in caves and in dungeons. And the next morning, as the group stood on the bluff overlooking the sea, Sagani had handed Axa a misshapen little lump of adra, and Pallegina had watched as the orlan peered through it and into the In-Between.

She'd been told the woman was a Watcher, and she'd more or less accepted it as truth, but the paladin hadn't exactly been expecting a demonstration just yet. After a few minutes of watching the little woman sway to and fro in the wind, apparently mesmerized by the adra carving the dwarf had given her, concern for her wellbeing had compelled Pallegina to approach and take her by the shoulders, attempting to shake her out of it before she wobbled her way over the cliff's edge.

"Everything... all right in there?" she'd muttered, lightly slapping the little woman's cheek.

"Adra arch," Axa had rasped in reply, violet eyes wild and unfixed. Sagani had gently pried the carving from her fuzzy hands then, smiled compassionately at the other two women before asking Edér where in the Dyrwood an adra arch might stand.

That was... very strange. But stranger things have happened, Pallegina had reminded herself. She'd kept reminding herself of that as they'd made their way back to the city, as she listened to the others' stories of reincarnated souls and mysterious cults, dead brothers and ancient tablets and a haunted castle this eccentric little woman called home.

Ambassador Agosti had been less than pleased to receive his agent nearly three days after Verzano had been cut loose, and accompanied by a pack of disheveled strangers no less. But Axa was nothing if not a fierce defender of her troops, it seemed, and although she'd made a valiant effort to keep her comments civil, eventually Agosti had frayed the little woman's last nerve with his dismissive arrogance and insinuated threats, finally ending up on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing himself for once. Pallegina had known then that she'd chosen her new companions wisely, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning at Agosti as he stammered and sweated under the orlan's indignant outburst.

Her amusement at Axa's antics had been soundly quashed, however, by the new assignment laid upon her shoulders, one that she had dreaded might be in the works but had hoped would never actually be implemented– the negotiation of a new trade agreement between the Vailian Republics and Eir Glanfath, one that took blatant, vicious advantage of the Dyrwood's badly weakened state due to the Hollowborn crisis. It made sense in the short term, financially and practically, for the merchants of the Republics to step in and take the reins where the Dyrwoodans would not. But what gave Pallegina pause were the long term political implications of essentially kicking the Dyrwood while it was down, especially now at such a crucial juncture in the deciding of the country's legislation regarding animancy. If the Ducs Bels willfully chose to make an enemy of the Dyrwood now, it could have long-reaching consequences that could do untold damage to the Republics in the years to come, particularly for the animancy community. Animancers were already under attack in this country, superstitious types blaming them for causing this soul plague by somehow invoking the wrath of the gods, as well as for their ill-fated attempts at curing the nation's blighted children. Would the people of the Dyrwood, fiery and reactionist as they were, still tolerate animancy at all should the Republics, animancy's shining champion, stab them in the back while they were at their weakest and least reasonable? What would become of Vailian animancy without competition to keep them sharp, or collaborative efforts to keep them abreast of the latest developments? Even if animancy was permitted to continue in the Dyrwood, its practitioners would be loathe to share their discoveries with their Vailian counterparts, leading to an inevitable stagnation in the soul sciences– or even worse, the Republics could potentially fall behind the Dyrwood, languishing in the past while the Dyrwood moved ahead, forging the future without them...

No. This was not permissible, not after all the Republics and its animancers had done for her. But still, she had her orders. Now all she had to do was carry them out, one way or another.

"Twin Elms is a good long way from here," Sagani reassured her afterwards at their table at the Charred Barrel, swirling her ale around in her tankard and feeding her fox under her chair. "And Axa'll find more than enough distractions along the way, I'm sure. Plenty of time to come up with some sort of... creative interpretation of your orders."

Pallegina tried to smile, but only produced a weak grimace. "Then I hope our Watcher friend is more 'creative' than I am. I have many strengths, but subterfuge has never been one of them. And one can only openly defy the powers that be so many times before their patience runs out." She stared pensively into her wine as she spoke, couldn't help but think of Verzano's fate, Agosti's warnings.

"I'll drink to that," Edér mumbled around his mouthful of roast pork and potato, raising his cup in a commiserative gesture before knocking it back. "Axa ain't much for bullshittin' folks– not as far as I've seen, anyway– but she's got a knack for solvin' problems, and for pushin' her luck 'n' gettin' away with it. If anyone can finagle some kinda deal that'll keep your ducs happy without totally screwin' over the Dyrwood, I'd wager it'd be her."

"Elegantly stated, Edér," Aloth deadpanned, rolling his eyes and pushing his food around on his plate. "Speaking of Axa, she's been away from the table for quite a while now..." The elf lifted his head, anxiously scanning the throng of diners, drunks, and debutantes. "If I recall, she only said she wanted to catch up with Ingroed and Nonton, but I don't see her at the bar anymore."

"Ingroed and Nonton?" Pallegina glanced around idly and spotted the little woman almost immediately– that bold red hair was unmistakable, even when mostly obscured behind the fat asses and round bellies of the taller kith surrounding her. "More friends, I assume?"

"Couple of folks from my hometown, Gilded Vale. She helped 'em outta a rough spot." The blond man glanced over at the bar, smiling at his former neighbors.

Kana looked up from his dinner, face flushed with drink. "Ah! Are those the ones who set a trap for the dead man in the bear's den?" He beamed at Pallegina, practically glowing with enthusiasm. "You must have her tell you the tale, my lady. A truly inspiring account of our Watcher's unique insight at work. She learned of their betrayal from the spirit of the victim, you see! But there's a tragic twist–"

"Hey, now, don't spoil the ending, big fella, you wasn't even there. Let her tell it." Edér had caught sight of Axa too, just as she'd turned away from the well-dressed elf she'd been speaking with, and he beckoned the redhead back to their table with a wave of his hand. The stranger watched her go, nervously fiddling with his ostentatious jewelry as she sauntered back to her friends, while Pallegina tried to remember where she'd seen him before, his eyes widening in alarm as he caught her staring at him.

"Talking about me behind my back again?" Axa sighed, grinning and shaking her head as she clambered back into her seat. "Gods, I can't leave you scoundrels alone for a second. They didn't tell you a bunch of ghost stories, did they?" She winked at Pallegina, and the paladin noticed just how tired the orlan looked.

"Only the true ones!" Kana laughed a bit too loudly– not atypical of him, but the alcohol certainly amplified his natural exuberance. Aloth delicately scooted his chair away from the overly jolly giant, vexation plain on his face.

If Axa noticed anything unusual, she didn't mention it, only chuckled and took a long drag from her pipe. "Found out where your adra arch might be, Sagani. Turns out it's somewhere over by Twin Elms, believe it or not." She glanced up at Pallegina, a cautious little smile on her tawny face. "Unfortunately, I've also heard tell that the road leading there is badly flooded right now due to inclement weather. So it looks like we'll have some time to kill before we can head over that way."

"Belfetto," Pallegina sighed. She appreciated the attempt to cheer her up, letting her know she had time to decide how to handle the Ducs' request, but she had a feeling that the longer she dwelled on her predicament, the more it would weigh on her mind.

Aloth leaned close to the little woman. "I take it this means we're to head for the catacombs on the morrow, then?" He looked simultaneously anxious and eager, as though preparing to take on a task he knew to be important but especially onerous. A familiar burden, Pallegina mused.

"Ah... perhaps," Axa replied, looking away quickly. "There are a few other things I'd like to tend to first, though, if you're all amenable. I was just talking to that elf over there, the one in the fancy robes with all the gaudy jewelry, and he's asked me to do him a favor. See, he has this friend who's a courtesan at the, uh, at the Salty Mast..."

She winced as everyone at the table put down their forks and goblets and gave her their undivided attention.

Pallegina downed the rest of her wine.

—

[dragonologist-phd]

Berath's Bell, Cave Coral, Skaenbone, St. Gyran's Horn for each of your Watchers?

thank you!

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

Desta hasn’t dealt much with loss before. When it does happen, she tries to focus on positive things and be strong for others, but it does help to talk through her feelings with someone.

Rudi had to deal with the death of her mother at a young age, and then her brother left their village and left her feeling very abandoned. All of that did lead to her tending to put up walls when people try to get close to her, at least at first. When dealing with loss she likes to be by herself until she’s ready to deal with people again.

Miervaldis is very accepting of loss- he’s spent his whole life with Rymrgandan and Berathian priests, and a large part of his pilgrimage was working as a healer with people who were seriously injured, so he’s accustomed to the idea of death.

Cave Coral: Does your Watcher conform to the culture of the Dyrwood, or do they stick to their roots? (This could mean appearance wise/morally/how they speak etc.)

Desta still has her Living Lands accent and really misses the food there, but her attitude and style is kind of a mish-mash of cultures from all over. She’s done a lot of traveling, and picked up a lot of habits on the way! She likes the Dyrwood fashion style because she finds it comfy and functional

Rudi keeps her Plains accent and fashion, but her attitude fits in very well with the Dyrwood. It’s probably part of the reason she and Eder get along so well!

Miervaldis likes that more Dyrwoodans worship Berath, but beyond that he doesn’t care much for the culture. In almost all other aspects he sticks to his roots from the White that Wends

Skaenbone: Ultimately, which of the God's of Eora did your Watcher side with in the Council of Stars quest?

Desta sided with Hylea. Of all the gods, Hylea irritates her the least, and she believed that returning the souls to the Hollowborn was the best shot at undoing the harm Thaos caused.

Rudi sided with Galawain and Magran. She respected both of those gods, and her perspective was that the Hollowborn Crisis couldn’t be completely reversed, so they should use what happened to make people strong enough to handle it.

Miervaldis sided with Berath. They’re his parton god, so he was obviously inclined to side with them, and he believed the souls’ rightful place was back on the Wheel.

St. Gyran's Horn: How did your Watcher take to the responsibilities at Caed Nua? Did they return endgame?

Desta was very overwhelmed by all of it at first. She had never been charge of anything like that, and she wasn’t sure she could handle it. But after lots of learning on the job, she figured out she had a knack for diplomacy and was actually proud of everything she accomplished there. She’d never put down roots anywhere else before, but was coming around to the idea that Caed Nua could be her home.

Rudi loved Caed Nua from the start. She’s a natural leader and got a lot of satisfaction from taking on the project of restoring it. She really made a home out of it and was devastated when it was destroyed.

Miervaldis was more comfortable dealing with the day-to-day needs of Caed Nua and working in the temple. He left most of the diplomacy and big decisions up to the Steward, and although he enjoyed it while he was there he knew he wouldn’t be staying permanently.

[dragonologist-phd]

Forsythia for Nona?

thank you! I’m gonna do some mix & match and combine with the prompt “raspberry” from @grumpy-jedi!

(AO3)

Forsythia- Anticipation

Raspberry- Remorse

In the midst of the crisis that has gripped Dyrwood andkeeps the Leaden Key busier than ever, Nona prays.

Leading group prayers is expected, of course, now that sheis a high priestess. But Nona still finds time apart from that, time to kneelbefore Woedica’s statue and perform her own prayers in quiet and solitude.

When Nona prays, she thinks of the families that have been devastatedto discover their newborn child is what they now call a Hollowborn, and how there will be many more to come. She thinks ofthose children- not children, really, just husks that will never truly knowlife. She thinks of the wichts, born of desperation and the twistedmachinations of animancy. She thinks of all the people in the Dyrwood, thosewho are suffering and afraid and do not, cannot,know what it is all for.

She prays for them, and for Thaos, and for herself. Because inspite of it all, they will carry on with their mission.

Nona cannot call what she feels regret. Her heart aches to know the pain the Leaden Key has caused,and she mourns the souls whose existence has been sacrificed to empower herQueen. But sorrow is not the same as remorse.

When Woedica reclaims her throne, all the wrongs of the pastwill at last be set right. When Woedica reclaims her throne, she will restoreorder and structure to a world that has too long been left to chaos. When Woedicareclaims her throne, no child will again be in danger of being born Hollowborn.No god will again raise an army in rebellion against their Queen.

Nona ends her prayers and looks up at the statue of Woedicabefore her. The adra that makes up her Queen’s visage shines dimly, even amidstthe shadows and behind a haze of incense. She remembers kneeling before herQueen, and the shroud of divine authority and blinding light of her crown.

Nona prays to remind herself what all of their work is for. Solong as they succeed in their mission, it will all have been worth it. And theywill succeed.

They are not ready yet. They need more time. More souls.

But they are close.

Flower Prompts

[dragonologist-phd]

☃���☂️☻ for Nona?

thank you!!

☃:  does my muse like the holidays? 

She used to really love holidays, especially the Carnival of the Mask. Since leaving Aedyr, however, she’s kind of gotten into the habit of not really celebrating anything

☂:  what my muse does on a rainy day 

Already Answered!

☻:  three things that make my muse sad 

1) Thinking about her family, or at least her sister. Her father just makes her angry and she has a lot of complicated feelings about her mother, but reflecting on her lost relationship with her sister just makes her sad

2) Knowing there are things in Thaos’s past that he still struggles with, and feelings like she can’t do anything to help. She knows some of his past, but obviously not everything, and she’s torn between wanting to know more and not wanting to press on topics that cause him pain

3) She really does mourn the loss of the souls that were gathered as part of the Hollowborn Crisis. She still goes through with it, and earnestly believes what they’re doing is ultimately right and will be worth whatever sacrifices they have to make, but she still feels sorrow over it

Headcanon Asks!

[impossible-rat-babies]

30 Day Watcher Challenge

19. THAOS, IOVARA & THE PAST: tell us about your watcher’s past life! how did your watcher feel about thaos and iovara in their past life? how do they feel in the present as they uncover these memories? do the memories change their mind at all about thaos and the leaden key?

--

Aoife was born in Creitum and him and Iovara were very close growing up, best friends and later lovers. They shared everything with each other and were deeply inseparable. He was deeply heartbroken when she left and how she rejected the faith given to them, but he never wished harm on her. His faith did falter after she left, but he didn't leave the faith because he did hope he could bring her back or talk some sense into her or see her off to a safe place. He knew what she was saying was very dangerous and that she was likely going to be killed. He went to Iovara with the deep seated hope that he would be able to convince her that she was in danger and that this was going to kill her, rather than the plan of luring her back to Creitum; he was completely honest in being a spy for Thaos, but he knew she wouldn’t send him away for it.

When he realized she couldn't be convince to flee or to repent or to find some sort of safety, he told her about Ossionus, but not about the trap that would be waiting for her. He knew what waited for her there and he knew what he was going to have to do. Before that, he had thought of it as a duty he had to make sure peace came about, regardless of the terrifying means it came to. It was justified for the greater good in his head. He trusted Thaos and his plan, knowing that it would make a better future.

The combination of the truth of the gods, his role in killing people for this truth, and what he did to Iovara--his one and only love--ended up breaking his soul until the confrontation with Thaos.

Aoife has....many, many confusing, uncomfortable and terrifying thoughts of himself and his actions as he learns about what he did. He is confused because he knows it was him who did these things, but he also can’t see himself doing them. He wonders how much of what he did and those actions are inherently part of his soul and thus will always manifest themselves, regardless of who he is. It’s also deeply uncomfortable for him because he knows he can’t stop what he says or what he does when he watches it happen. He can only know what he is seeing and say what his lips have already said thousands of years ago. He doesn’t know if the actions are his as in who he is right now, or if they are the actions of someone who doesn’t exist/was shaped by what happened in that time he was alive. 

Above all, he is terrified, heartbroken and disgusted by his past self. He is disgusted because how could he do such a thing to someone he loved for the sake of faith? How could he do such a thing? He’s heartbroken because he did do it. He hurt Iovara--the woman he loved--beyond repair by his own hands. He gets flashes in Twin Elms of his hands soaked in blood and he can hear her screaming. He still gets the waking nightmares like that even in Deadfire, years later. It is also terrifying because he doesn’t know if he's capable of such a thing. He had no hindsight for his actions in the deep past. Who is to say he won’t do the same things because he doesn't have retrospect and hindsight? He’s terrified of what his hands are capable of and what he could do to the people he cares about.

It’s particularly terrifying for him once he starts his relationship with Aloth. He is terrified of doing the same to him, or getting to a place where he is allowing such things to happen for some greater good he believes in. He gets really bad nightmares in Deadfire of such things happening. He gets a whole resurgence of waking nightmares like in Twin Elms after dealing with The Dead Floe, particularly the ones where he sees the blood on his hands and can hear the screaming. Loads of echoes of Iovara’s words in Breith Eaman and he’ll ask himself: “did you lie when you said the gods could end suffering?”

The lot of it is why he doesn’t talk about Iovara to anyone but Eder and Aloth, and even then it’s just a mention of her name, if that. He refuses to tell people about her because it’s not their place, talking about her isn’t something he likes to do, and he wants to put her to rest. She accepted her place in Brieth Eaman and he wants to let her have the rest she desires. He doesn’t want to explain what he went through to people.

In the end, seeing what he sees of his past, he gets deeply enraged at Thaos. He didn’t have the courage to demand answers and to demand satisfaction thousands of years ago, but he had all the courage and anger he needed standing before him in Sun-In-Shadow. Thaos deserved to give him answers, to give the world answers, to give Iovara answers for all the hurt he put the world through. Even beyond the Hollowborn crisis, stretching back hundreds of years. He hates and despises what he did and what he made him do for the gods. 

Beyond Thaos and the like, he hates Woedica above the rest. He can contend with the rest of the gods to a degree of civility, but he has no desire to be kind or to deal with Woedica. To him, she is a lustful, greedy, contemptuous, unlawful creature of wicked, hateful design. She is not any justice he knows, because justice is fair and she is not fair. She deserves to be banished and destroyed purely for what she caused him; the rest of the world deserves more.

--

Find this meme HERE