#and is the lord of covens and master of hags

[tomepact]

characters i want to add:

vampire from my latest cos game

ghostslayer royal advisor

my fey queens

my archfey The Inspector

[mybg3notebook]

Astarion and Power - Part 1

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were made up to the game version v4.1.101.4425. As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

Before talking about Power, Cazador, and other details, I would like to quickly gather what little we have about Astarion’s past. 

Backstory: Mortal Astarion.

About his past we have little information, mostly given by Swen in interviews with game magazines or via his on-live demonstrations of the game early in 2020 before the release of EA. All this information is subjected to changes, of course, so we should take it with a pinch of salt. 

As a mortal, Astarion was a corrupt magistrate who judged criminals he later sent to the local vampire coven of the Szarr family as food. After a while, his greed got the best of him and started to sell those criminals into slavery as well, having a double profit from this. This movement brought the fury of the Szarr family upon him. 

From this short story we can infer that there was a high probability that his judgements were unfair, condemning criminals who needed a death sentence to lighter ones (this is related to his strange comment of “death is a harsh sentence” in Arabella’s scene, see the post Astarion's Standards and Manipulation) while condemning innocent ones; all with the goal of having a decent amount of living creatures to offer to the local vampire or to the slave traders.

We also know, by his own words in game, that when he was turned into a vampire, he had been the victim of an attack of thugs/Gurs (he says this information in different moments of the game, changing details. I don't know if this is on purpose to show Astarion’s manipulative nature depending on your reaction to Gandrel, or it’s a consequence of unpolished details during EA). What we know for sure is that these Gurs/thugs were angry because of a judgement he had previously made. It’s easy for us to infer, using the info above, two situations:

Astarion may have condemned some isolated Gur to an unfair trial who ended up in a slavery network, being discovered later by their Gur fellows who simply avenged them in Baldur’s Gate. This theory has been developed as a way to see fit the concept of Maiden Fel.  If Gandrel dies and Astarion performs a Speak with Dead, he will reveal that Maiden Fel is the head of his tribe who asked him to return with Astarion “unblemished”. Digging for more details about who Maiden Fel is, Gandrel says she is the “reason even monsters have nightmares”. Walking on the speculation ground, there is a chance that Maiden Fel could be a nightmare Hag, since Gurs consider hags as “wise women'', and unlike the rest of the humans, they respect them a bit more than common folks.

Or the whole setting was done by Cazador, who plotted this ambush to make it look as an act of barbarism using furious Gurs (which attack could be seen as an obvious reaction since Gurs are despised everywhere due to their nomadic lifestyle and all the stigmas they carry) as a way to punish Astarion for trying to outsmart him.

Among the many conclusions that we can draw from here is that, if Astarion’s backstory is not retconned and rewritten later in the full game, we can be almost sure he was an Evil-aligned character as a mortal. We can’t say that vampirism twisted his morals; they were rather poor in the first place. 

Astarion, the Vampire spawn

After the bite scene, Astarion presents himself as a vampire spawn, a creature lesser than a slave for his master, since Cazador’s commands are impossible to resist. He explicitly says that his body always reacts to Cazador’s word and for two hundred years he was tormented by him. Thanks to datamining information, we know that Cazador performed an infernal deal, and part of the contract is carved on his back. 

Due to datamining information as well, we know that the first dream that Astarion experiences may not be the one related to the tadpole dreams mechanics since he dreams without having made use of the tadpole powers yet. I prefer to suppose that this dream is product of his own psychology, or even it could be an effect of Cazador’s power on him (maybe he can’t dream of anything but of his Sire, considering how possessive Cazador is)

As I said, this is not a dream of power and desire in the same way that the other companions or Tav have, and for this reason I’m inclined to say that the vampiric power of Cazador is the one making an effect instead of the tadpole (or simply Astarion’s trauma showing). This dream looks like a reminder, like a reiterative dream for Astarion about Cazador’s rule, which are:

rule 1: he will not drink from thinking creatures.

rule 2: he will obey him in all things.

rule 3: he will not leave Cazador’s side unless directed.

rule 4: he will know that he is Cazador’s proprietary.

Most options end up in the similar idea of: “Free? Lie to yourself, boy, but not to me. You are mine, forever.”

Cazador and Astarion

[Astarion has just related what Cazador made him eat] “Flies? What did you do to deserve that?”

“I existed, that was enough for him. He revelled in having power over me, because those with power can do whatever the hell they want.”

If we are going to talk about power with a character as Astarion in mind, we need to talk first about Cazador. Let’s start with the way Astarion describes him:

“The biggest threat to a vampire is another vampire. They're scheming, paranoid, power hungry beasts. So why would any vampire give up control over a spawn to create a competitor? Trust me, it doesn't happen.”

“Cazador Szarr is a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power.(...) Not political power or military power. Power over people. The power to control them completely. (...) He turned me nearly two hundred years ago. I became his spawn and he became my tormentor.” 

“He had me go out Baldur’s Gate to fetch him the most beautiful souls I could find. It was a fun little ritual of his—I’d bring them back and he’d ask if I wanted to dine with him. And if I said yes, he’d serve me a dead, putrid rat. Of course if I said no, he’d have me flayed. Hard to say which was worse.”

“Cazador liked to make them art, spent all night with a razor, drafting a sonnet on my back. (Puppy eyes) Apparently the more I screamed, the more mistakes he made. And the more editing was required.”

“It was a group of Gur/thugs that attacked me that night in Baldur’s Gate. I would have died had Cazador not appeared and saved me. (...) He chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life. Given that my choices were “eternal life” or “bleed to death on the street”, I took him up on the offer. It was also afterwards I realised just how long “eternity” could be.” 

“Cazador likes to toy with people. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don’t play games unless they know they’ll win.” 

(About Raphael’s encounter) “All that 'take your time. I'll wait' nonsense? He's playing with us. It reminds me of Cazador, taunting his slaves with hope when he knew the game was rigged. "

Tav: “Would he send another Gur to capture?” / Ast: “Yes, he probably thought it was funny.”

(“We can kill him.”) “No, you don't understand. You don't know him. Just trust me when I say we need to be careful. He'll send more lackies – he has plenty of souls to command. We just have to be vigilant. Keep our wits about us. And kill any monster hunters on sight. We can probably make an exception with Wyll... Probably.”

>>So far we know that Cazador has a particular pleasure for control, especially the one related to people’s will. With the nightmare information, we know he has powers related to mind control. He has many slaves, and enjoys cruelty, humiliation, and torture. He enjoys making Astarion eat putrid animals, carving his back with an infernal contract, and playing psychologically with him. He also likes to give false hope, making his victims believe that there is hope, removing it right in front of them. 

I want to highlight that this twisted way of giving hope just to offer a perverted solution to a person’s problem, and enjoying the pleasure caused by the break of the hope, can be seen in Astarion during EA: in the approval that Astarion gives to Tav when you revive Connor, and that pinch of hope in Mayrina turns into horror when she sees Undead!Connor. For Astarion this situation is “funny”. Similar can be said when he approves telling Arabella’s parents that she will be released after the end of the ritual, when she is in fact dead. 

Astarion describes a bit more what power we should expect from a Lord Vampire:

Shapeshift: turning into mist.

Calling wolves to do his bidding.

Shrugging off blows.

He “could walk into our camp tonight and kill you with his bare hands.”

Astarion and Slavery

One of the characteristics that so far in EA has got my attention was how little conflict Astarion has with slavery, despite having been his former condition. 

He is apathetic to slavery in the best case, or even supporting it in the worse case. Proof of this can be found in the Myconid Colony, when interacting with a duergar slave. He speaks as if it were a totally useful tool that inspires little sympathy in him, since they don't have consciousness. However, he leaves a quite open question when finally adding “Or maybe not”.

But this “maybe not” is not left to speculation, we can see what Astarion truly feels with a non-Gur human slave in another part of the game: in the Zhentarim hideout. This can be checked with Oskar, the painter slave.

You can free Oskar using persuasion with his kidnapper (Astarion keeps neutral, he doesn’t approve the freeing). Now, if you can buy Oskar by paying the gold directly or by using intimidation to lower the price, it would keep Astarion neutral until the moment of the payment is stated, which he disapproves. At first I thought it was because he was truly against slavery of thinking creatures... but it was not. It was because you are paying a lot of money (we need to remember Astarion is greedy [1] as well, he wouldn’t be a vampire if it weren't for his greed). 

Once bought, if you keep Oskar as a slave, and you demand him to keep silent because "you want your slaves silent unless they are spoken to", Oskar will think it's a joke, and you, again, can use the option "I don't joke with my slaves" and then Astarion will approve. None of these options is under any tag to make them believe they are part of a preformative act to prank Oskar. And this is key... this is not a joke. They are used as your real sentiments and intentions, and Astarion approves them.

These reactions are not random, they make sense with his—until this moment unchanged or retconned—backstory, where he had no problem trafficking with criminals as vampire food and later as slaves to have higher profits. So, these two aspects remain in his vampire nature unaltered: the most important thing is always to have profits, and his relationship with slavery is absolutely fine as much as it gives benefits, it’s useful or at least, gives him some entertainment.

The tadpole

We know the tadpole has a particular effect on Astarion. Unlike the other companions, Astarion doesn’t dream of a person who represents to him both desire and power. Power? undoubtedly, but desire? It’s hard to say. The implied, vague concept that Astarion has been sexually abused by Cazador is there (because we know these dreams are about “sensual” desire as well). 

It’s maybe a consequence of the vampirism and, by extension, of Cazador’s power, that makes Astarion unable to dream of anything else but his master. From the datamining information about the non-tadpole dream of Astarion, in which Cazador lists four rules, we know that the fourth one is about never stopping to be Cazador’s propriety, unable to be free, not even in dreams. Maybe Cazador’s effect also applies to Astarion’s dreams as well (but this is a mere speculation, there is no real proof of it on EA or datamining info so far). 

So when Astarion awakes in the beach and sees that some rules of his vampiric nature have been changed, he gets excited about the tadpole, and unlike the rest of the companions, he doesn’t want to get rid of it. He wants to master it, to have control of it. However, when the opportunity of controlling the tadpole appears with Raphael encounter, Astarion is one of the few companions who is completely against it at first. 

“Raphael is playing with us; Cazador liked to toy with people too. Let them think there was hope right until the end. Until he snatched it all away. Creatures like them don't play games unless they know they'll win.”

In that moment, he claims he won’t change a vampiric master for an infernal one. However, when the first use of the Tadpole causes the first symptoms of transformation evident, Astarion falls in despair: he is scared and, calling for Raphael to take him from the camp, he says a curious phrase: 

“I would choose servitude over oblivion any day”

So, after this moment, he is not completely convinced that Raphael is the true solution to his problem but he is more open to keep him as a plan B if anything else fails. Later he claims that it doesn't matter to be a servant of a devil, because he knows Cazador, and he wants to get rid of his power for good. 

“I won't lie, it's tempting. If I keep the tadpole, I risk transforming into a grotesque monster. If I lose the tadpole, Cazador has control of me, body and soul, and I return to the shadows. It's grim either way, so why not sell what's left of my soul to a devil? Better he has it than cazador. Whatever it's coming we need to have our options open.”

Astarion’s process of seeing the potential of the power of the tadpole increases along the game. It gets higher and wilder. The first instances of the tadpole use are about Astarion discovering how much this tadpole gives him powers he can barely understand. 

“The tadpoles are not so bad at all. (...) First I can walk in the sun, then make people dance like puppets? *laughs * I've certainly had worse days.”

He is not an idiot, he knows that, without control, they will end up turning into mind flayers, so he needs to find something powerful that can give him control over his tadpole. This is the reason why he encourages the use of the tadpole after knowing about the netherese magic containing the transformation via Omellun or Ethel.

Ethel explains that the tadpole had been tampered, so the dialogue goes:

Tav: “It's giving us more time, sounds good to me”. 

Astarion: “Perhaps. And who's to say it can't be tampered with further?” (She said it was netherese magic) “it must be powerful magic to stop the parasite in its tracks, I wonder what else it could do?

At that point in the story, he knows that the netherese magic is powerful enough to contain the transformation: so he is now sure that there is more time to use it. So he will end up being the only companion in EA who encourages everyone to use the power:

“What's not to enjoy (with this tadpole)? I can walk in sunlight, trespass upon any home, manipulate minds – I'm the most powerful vampire in the realms. Granted, the looming doom is an issue, but why not enjoy the benefits while we can?

Despite the nightmares happening after every use of the tadpole powers, Astarion doesn’t want to stop. At this point, he is the only companion who doesn’t want to. 

“The power to twist a mind to your will is worth some nightmares.”

By the end of the game, we are sure that Astarion wants this power without doubts. He revels in the power of mind-controlling people, ironically, despite having suffered so much of it under Cazador’s control. If we see all the situations where Astarion’s mind is controlled, or violated, his reactions will be extremely more aggressive than the other companions. He has suffered it a lot, but by the end of EA he is enjoying being on the other side of that power. 

This post was written on April 2021. → For more Astarion: Analysis Series Index

[reachfolk]

1, 6, 13, and 16 for Alexi and Ursula and shoot anyone else you wanna answer for

💛 from @korvanjund

thank you sm for the ask darlin!! i decided to also include my little haglet ophelia since i've been adding more to her storyline today, and it's about time i start talking more about my other character lol.

who are they closest to? how did they meet and what do they like to do together?

i already answered this for alexi here!

ursula: she's obviously very close with her wife, bothela. like i said in her chara sheet, the two met when markarth was under reach control and they worked together as healers. they spend most of their day running the hag's cure together and training their apprentice. when they aren't doing that, they mostly focus on their own little projects and research; bothela seems to somehow never tire of alchemy even long after the shop closes, and ursula likes to tinker around with dwemer texts and tech to see what she can find out. then they get back together and discuss whatever interesting things they learned. she's also super close to her niece and nephew! isobel doesn't love having the kids spend time with her, but the few times they are together, they love hearing all her stories from when she was in the uprising and just stories of the reach in general.

ophelia: she'd literally lay down her life for every single person in her coven dklfjskdj, she's very dedicated to them!! but of course, she's closest to her mother, helle. helle was in the forsworn uprising, and she had ophelia not long after markarth was secured. after it all fell apart, she raised filly to continue fighting for the reach, but the rebellion was never the same after madanach was imprisoned. eventually, the two (along with some of ophelia's closest friends from the forsworn) disbanded and formed an independent coven. ophelia supported her mother through the ritual to become a hagraven matriarch, and she's gladly willing to take on the same burden should anything happen to helle. helle taught ophelia a LOT about everything she knows about magic, and she's working on honing her skills as a seer to better guide the coven. although helle is the matriarch, her daughter is her right hand man of sorts and is just as responsible for everything they do. she runs around the coven doing just about anything that needs doing to help the members, whether it's hunting with hypatia, babysitting honey while beatrice is busy, or assisting esmeralda in her expeditions to old ruins.

on an average day, what can they be found doing after dinner?

alexandria: the short answer is: way too much !! the long answer: girlie has the worst case of insomnia ever and she compensates for that by using Way Too Many stamina potions, so it's usually her companions that even have to remind her to stop for dinner at all. even after dinner, she knows she wouldn't be able to sleep unless she majorly tires herself out, so she likes to run around doing more and more stuff. if her companions are too worn out from the day to do that, she likes to restock their potion supply or practice her spells. if after that she still can't quite fall asleep, she'll usually go on a late night hunting trip. there have been a few times when the local blacksmith tries to open shop and just finds her tanning leather at their station lol

ursula: she's quite the scholar, especially when it comes to the history of the reach! this goes beyond just the reachfolk; she also studies the history of the dwarves in the reach, the dragon cult, etc. she's published a few books covering the subjects, and is considered a leading expert on the matter. if she's not having a chill evening with her wife, she likes to continue working on those books, whether she's writing for them or just doing some research. she makes occasional visits to isobel's family, as the kids absolutely adore her, but those are few and far between.

ophelia: she's a little like alexi in that she does way more than anyone has any business doing kdsjfhd. she doesn't have the same ailment of course, but she wants to take off the pressures of managing the coven from her mother's shoulds, at least as best as she can. by the time they finish dinner, she's already thinking about where to go hunting for the next day's meal. she prays at the shrines to the old gods, who often send her visions to guide her. she checks in on each of the members and their individual duties and their work. she'll sometimes read honey a story before bed or sing her to sleep when her mother is away. she takes care of helle when she's in pain (i hc that the hagraven transformation can be pretty painful and draining, not unlike the briarheart transformation). when she does have a moment to relax, she likes to spend it by the river, soaking her feet and watching the stars.

what special abilities or talents do they possess? did they develop through training or were they born with them?

alexandria: she's always had a knack for alchemy, like i said in the other post! it was why her tutor encouraged her to apprentice at the hag's cure, where she built on that natural talent with a lot of hard work. despite her young age (around 22-27 depending on her point in the story), she's practically a master alchemist already. she'll insist she's not a master—"well i don't think anyone could ever know everything there is to know about alchemy. it's an evolving discipline and—" she's the worst lol. but the point is, she's one of the best ones you'll find around!! she's not an expert in things like sword fighting or marksmanship, but she makes up for it with her potions and poisons, making her a formidable foe.

ursula: she's pretty well rounded i think, having been a fighter and a healer for much of her life. she's also fairly good at alchemy herself. a lot of those things weren't really inborn, but she had a lot of great guidance from the other people that were part of the uprising. since it was in the works for many years, and ursula joined in during the early stages of its planning, she had a lot of time to hone her skills. by the time of the main story with lex, she's pretty much a master at restoration magic in particular, as that's the one she's used most in the 30 years since the city was reconquered by the nords. when the temple of dibella is closed, she's looked to as the town's primary healer.

ophelia: like i said before, she's a seer. it was always an inborn gift she's had, but her training with her mother as well as her devout worship of the old gods give her visions a significant boost. she's most devout to vaermina, who shows her visions of omens and looming threats to both her and her people in her dreams. she's actually the one that told alexandria to go to helgen, because she got a vision of what was going to happen and knew alexi was central to it. her visions can sometimes come in the form of metaphors rather than exact tellings of what'll happen, so she thought that alexi being personified as a dragon in these visions was some odd metaphor, as was helgen being burnt to the ground. needless to say, she later realized those visions were more literal than initially thought lol

how do they like their baths/showers? hot/cold, long/short?

alexandria: like absolutely scorching lol. when she bathes, she often uses a flames spell to get the water damn near boiling before she hops in. when it's revealed that she's the dragonborn, she makes a lot of jokes that it's because of her dragon blood, but tbh she's just Like That.

ursula: warm, but not as much as lex. she's still spry and healthy, but she is Old (tm), so she finds a warm bath nice and soothing, yk? especially since most of her work is on her feet.

ophelia: cold or lukewarm at best. she loves bathing in the karth river, and she appreciates it regardless of the weather. the karth is practically sacred to the reachfolk, and she finds the embrace of the cold water bracing and energizing! lord knows she needs that considering how much is on her plate.

[the-hoarse-bard]

The Dragon Bridge is one of the more interesting landmarks in Skyrim. Apparently it’s been here longer than the Nords, and it certainly is a marvel in its construction. It’s entirely freestanding and is above an incredibly deep gorge. Whoever built this was clearly a master artisan, and without it, the landmass Solitude is on would be entirely unreachable by foot, so for that I’m thankful. Swimming through the swamps of Morthal just to do my job sounds unpleasant at best.

And there’s Mount Kilkreath, reminding me that at any moment I could be smited by a vengeful Daedric lord. Merid-Nunda will just have to wait her precious time, I’ve got a wedding to both get to and ruin.

Hm, perhaps a less incriminating murder weapon would be helpful. Something I’m not known to use, something less unique than Chillrend or a Nightingale Bow. Seems like a good plan. Found a note about a local treasure in Haafingar on a bandit that leads to just such an item.

Ravenscar Hollow turned out to be home to a coven of hagravens and their pet troll. Some fire powder handled the troll, and there was more than enough cover to close in and take down the hags. At the end, I found my prize. Look at it, a true beauty. A masterpiece, even. A regal weapon for a regal assassination.

I stopped by the Radient Raiment clothier to buy some clothes that would allow me to blend in among the party goers, and one of the twin owners asked me to wear an outfit and ask the Jarl’s opinion of it in return for getting an outfit for free. Judging from the stores high price tags, it would be more than worth the small effort to chatting up the Jarl while at the reception.

The outfit is also not bad at all. Shirazzha cleans up rather nicely for a Khajiit that spends most of her time eating things she finds in the woods and murdering people. The shawl might be a bit much for Solitude’s oddly warm weather for a city on the shoreline of the Sea of Ghosts.

Jarl Elisif thought highly of the outfit, and I handed out the name of the shop that gave it to me, per their request. I hope no one sees me take out the bride, I’d hate to lose that shop business because of me, rude as the owners were.

One failed poisoning attempt that ended with the grooms death later, I finally found the perfect position for a good shot at the bride, along with a dead drop of some bolts. I was able to hide on the balcony long enough that the search for me was called off, and I simply strode out after grabbing a few prizes off the brides corpse. Namely, the beautiful wreath she was wearing and her rings. It was a... Less than perfect crime, but I pulled it off.

[wanderingmoonsword]

Quickwood

A blast from the past – even republished for Pathfinder, it’s been a while since the Bestiary 2 was released! – the quickwood is a massive carnivorous plant, but unlike someone plant monsters, these guys are intelligent. That doesn’t make them the gruff-but-good-hearted type like a treant, either. Even though they’re neutral, quickwoods like the taste of human and elven flesh, an odd trait in a neutral being, who generally are not that gung ho about turning other sentients into food. Of course, quickwoods hail from Ravenloft, so their standards might be slightly different from other people’s. Even if you toss the alignment, though, an intelligent, possibly carnivorous oak tree has a lot of potential as a monster. Their roots can move to pull victims close, they can bite, and their bark sheds a fear aura when spells fail to affect them. Don’t bother with the old standby of fire, either – quickwoods simply aren’t affected, although a nice cold snap can be punishing. As symbols of strength and endurance, possibly ones that have been subverted, quickwoods could appeal to all sorts of groups, and their immunity to lightning and the wildfires it sparks might be a gift from the thunder gods who are traditionally symbolized by oaks. In the Tome of Horrors, an old feature is mentioned – quickwoods who are using their ability to peer through nearby oaks twist the oak’s bark with a human-like face, much like their own – and that’s the kind of colorful ability that deserves a place at the table.

Striking a deal with a quickwood, a group of orc bandits, clad in gruesome masks, moves through the stand of red oaks with little fear. Until it comes time to live up to their end of the bargain, that is. They offer up a toll of human and elven flesh – first generation half-elves are a special prize – but the orcs are careful to pay attention to the subtle signs of extra-planar influence within the blood. The one time their former chief mistakenly offered a tiefling, the quickwood tore the leader’s head off with its teeth, spitting out the mask and pointedly demanding the orcs’ new leader wear the same mask or suffer the same fate.

Though several of the forests within Yeimura are known as the domain of bandits and poachers, the eastern reaches of the Yarwood see little enough of either one. Though the quickwood known as Bramblemaw long ago swore off eating legal travelers – ones accompanied by one of the druidic adepts or forest gnomes – the plant is permitted to eat any criminal it encounters, seeing them as a socially acceptable source of meat. Particularly heinous crimes are sometimes punished by being sentenced to Bramblemaw’s larder, a fate that inspires many to desperate flight.

Known as a place of beasts and witches, the Rastatian Forest is a place even the bold and the desperate only venture into by necessity. An isolated stretch of fog-shrouded woodland in a remote valley, the forest is the dominion of a quickwood dread lord. The great tree’s hungers and appetites for flesh has warped the woodland it inhabits into a spectacle of fear, with savage beasts who drag captives before their master before they dispose of the body pars left inside. At least two hag covens have made their home within the Rastatian at different time, offering a tithe of their victims to its master.

- Tome of Horrors Complete 498 and Bestiary 2 228

[diceprophet]

D&D 5e | “Curse of Strahd” Game #8 Notes

Session 8: Assault on Bonegrinder

At the end of the last session, the crew was tasked with rescuing a woman’s son from the horrific Bonegrinder windmill! [Link to Previous Session Notes] Today, they attacked the macabre tower and the hag coven within!

Part 1: Preparations

In preparation for the fight, each character unlocked a deeper potential within themselves through extensive study and practice (Translation: they leveled up last game). Their traveling companions, Ireena and Ismark, also gained new abilities after prolonged exposure to the party’s tactics and abilities. Ireena, yearning to be more useful to the party, beseeched the taxabi rouge Salazar for combat tutelage. His expert instructions imbued the noble with a more competent sword arm and faster reflexes. Ismark confided in the dwarf cleric Thrund in an attempt to rekindle the embers of faith in his heart. The ensuing conversation awoke minor clerical powers within the beleaguered fighter. 

Part 2: Cracking the Coven

The party successfully snuck into the windmill and struck multiple decisive blows against the hag coven in rapid succession. Thrund opened the fight by enveloping the the entire second floor was a zone of silence, which prevented the hideous witches from casting their potentially devastating hexes. Salazar zipped in and out of the shadows, slicing the hag and her daughters to ribbons. Ismark assisted in the frontlines with a sword and warhammer, and his sister Ireena rained down crossbow bolts from afar. Morgantha and her daughters managed to invoke the coven’s full powers twice, but each attempt to devastate the party was narrowly resisted by the intrepid adventurers. Eventually, the combined might of the party and the NPCs shattered the enemies and set the structure ablaze.

Part 3: The Silence Returns

After rescuing the captured children, the party returned to the forest to reunite Lucian with his mother. For their trouble, the gracious woman offered magical pendants she had looted off of countless dead adventurers over the years. The party deliberated over which mystical knick-knack to acquire, but Ireena quickly snatched up a shapeshifting amulet that would shield her from divination spells. Hopefully this would keep Lord Strahd from finding her. Unfortunately, he was already there, and had slaughtered the rest of the feral folk to pass the time. The aasimar wizard Eva’s refusal of the Lord’s invitation was not well-received.

Part 4: Hubris

Reinvigorated by their recent victory at the Bonegrinder and enraged by Strahd’s mockery, Ismark charged at the Dread Lord with enchanted longsword and warhammer aloft. Strahd drew and sheathed his sword quicker than anyone could perceive, and the fighter collapsed from a thousand unseen cuts. With Ismark bleeding out into the dirt and Ireena succumbing to the vampire’s presence, Strahd turned to face the rest of the party. Death had come for them.

Part 5: Dungeon Master’s Closing Thoughts

I had a blast running this session. The party had an amazing plan, they executed it nearly flawlessly, and the dice favored their ultimate victory in the most harrowing of moments (e.g. dodging a lightning bolt and resisting a phantasmal killer). This was an example of the party working at near maximum capacity and I was so proud to see them kicking ass as a team. I also got to level up the NPCs alongside the party, to increase a sense of the PCs actively affecting the world. I am particularly proud of how the windmill map turned out, too. I definitely want to create more minimalist cardboard 3D grids, so maybe we’ll see a cardboard Castle Ravenloft in the distant future? Finally, it took eight freaking sessions, but they have finally met with the Dark Lord. Dice Gods guide them to safety, or a sticky end...

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[thefreckledone]

Pompeii 36

@vesperlionheart

“Where are you going, hag?”

Sakura turned, closing the door slightly. “Going back into the forest, Sai.”

He frowned slightly, lines puckering his forehead. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“There are answers in the forest, Sai, and no one else seems to be very forthcoming these days,” Sakura replied. She pulled the knife from the makeshift sheath on her belt. “Besides, you gave me a weapon for a reason.”

“I will accompany you.”

“No, you won’t,” she said firmly, shutting the door and moving closer to him. “You already have plans today. You said you wanted to get a job and you need to go to those interviews.” She paused, tucking the knife away and adjusting the collar of his shirt. “There. You look perfect.”

Sai looked her over. “You too look aesthetically pleasing, hag.”

Sakura sighed, minding her tongue about the nickname. “We both look great. You’ll do wonderfully at the interviews. Just…try to be polite.”

“I’m always polite,” Sai replied.

“Best of luck,” Sakura said, pressing up on her tiptoes and brushing a kiss across his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye.”

Sakura stepped outside and rounded the clinic, heading off into the underbrush. This was now a familiar path, given the number of times she’d visited the shrine. She set her pace at a comfortable trot, clutching the bag slung across her chest close. She hoped that maybe this time she could get some definitive answers.

A glint of metal was the only warning she received before a heavy suit of armor stepped into her path. Sakura careened, turning to the side and glancing off the edge of the armor before finding herself on her back, air knocked from her lungs. She blinked, glaring up at the marigold knight as she fought to recover her breath.

“Really?” she asked. For an uninhabited suit of armor, it sure looked damn smug with itself. “I’d think you’d be over this at this point. I mean, at this point, I feel like I need to get a card stamped with every visit and body check. After every tenth visit, I get one freebie where you don’t slam me to the ground when I visit.” The daffodil knight came crashing out of the woods to the left, shoving its companion aside before offering her a hand. She took it, smiling as the knight pulled her back to her feet. “Thanks.”

The daffodil knight kept hold of her hand, tucking it into the crook of its elbow. Sakura followed along in bemusement as it led her to the shrine. It gestured to a low, smooth rock that sat beside the pool of water. Sakura took the seat gratefully, pulling out a few books as she did so.

“Since we don’t really have a good way of communicating, I figured I might try consulting a few history books. You two are definitely old.” The marigold knight threw its head back. “Oh, don’t give me that sass, Mari! I just meant you’ve been around for quite some time. I have no idea how no one else has stumbled across you in the past, but it seems I’m the only one aware of your existence.” And right now, she wasn’t feeling exactly charitable to the local leaders. If they wanted to keep secrets, so could she. It was petty and more than a little childish, but Sakura didn’t much care at the moment. “I thought we could play a little game. It’s called twenty questions. I’ll ask you a bunch of ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions; tap once for ‘no’ and twice for ‘yes.’” Sakura patted the stone as a display of the game. “Let’s see if we can figure out your identities.”

The marigold knight crossed its arms but the daffodil knight stepped forward and tapped its foot against the stone twice. Sakura grinned before delving into the first book. “Let’s see…do you remember the Fallout of 1659? The Hyuga and the Uchiha got into a massive fight, something about a kidnapping attempt?” The daffodil knight tapped its foot once. “Okay, so did you come here after 1659?” The knight tapped once again. “Were you…were you asleep here or something?” The knight tapped twice. “Okay, okay, we’re getting somewhere! Have you been awake for a long time?” One tap. “Less than a year?” Two taps. Sakura stopped, biting her lip as she calculated. “Were you…did you awaken near the end of August of last year?” There was no response. The knight just stood, seemingly puzzled. “Oh! August is a month of the year; it’s at the beginning of Fall, when the leaves are just starting to change colors.” Two taps.

Sakura felt a shiver run down her spine. August. It was the month she’d first arrived in Pompeii. Why on earth would these beings awaken upon her arrival? What had catalyzed the awakening? It couldn’t have been her, right?

Right?

Sakura shook her head, knowing it was a question that she couldn’t answer, not yet. Instead she turned back to the book. “Okay, well, we still need to determine when you two first arrived in Pompeii. Does the Great Fire of 1132 ring a bell? There was a major incident between Hiruzen Sarutobi and one of his students which resulted in a calamitous fire that nearly destroyed Pompeii.” The marigold knight tapped once alongside the daffodil one this time. Sakura smiled slightly, taking in their absolutely synchronous motions. “Alright, how about the Flood of 407? There was a power struggle in the Kiri sector that resulted in Yagura taking command.” One tap. “609 BCE, two covens of witches got into a major fight over territory just outside of Pompeii borders.” One tap. “2110 BCE, there was an earthquake that…raised the dead?” Sakura paused, reading it over. “Four necromancers got into an argument and they caused the earthquake while raising the dead. Wow.” One tap.

Sakura sighed, flipping through a couple of the books. “Well, there’s not much written about events before that. I guess people weren’t concerned with keeping records of what was going on. That or those books aren’t available to me.” She wished that the journal wasn’t so damn evasive on Pompeii’s history. “A lot of the rest of these are pretty obscure. Do you know anything about an active volcano?” Two taps. “Really? Were…were you involved in the founding of Pompeii?” No response.

Sakura looked up at the two knights. They stood there, motionless and for the first time they didn’t seem alive. They looked…dead; empty. Sakura swallowed, following the direction of their helmets to the shrine.

Oh.

She stood slowly, placing a hand on their vambraces. There was a creak as they turned their helms her way. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “The Maiden…you knew her.”

There was no response. Sakura stood there with them in silence, just watching over the worn but still beautiful shrine. The bluebells danced in the breeze, water rippling softly. This, right here, was her final resting ground. Well, at least her spirit. Sakura didn’t think her body survived the heat of the volcano. The daffodil knight shifted its vambrace, placing its hand in hers. While it didn’t move, Sakura moved her hand down the marigold knight’s arm and took hold of its hand. She smiled when the marigold knight actually let her.

“This place…it’s peaceful,” Sakura said. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Both hands squeezed around hers.

“You should really be more careful.”

Sakura jumped, hand going to the knife at her belt. She groaned as she realized who it was. “Kakashi? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he replied, slouching forward off the tree he was leaning against to fall into step beside her. “You need to be more careful about traipsing around the forest.”

Sakura looked up at him as she walked on, a slight smile quirking her lips. “You should heed your own advice too, don’t you think?”

“Not many traverse the forest unscathed these days. As doctor, I’m sure you’ve seen quite a few allergy and fatigue cases recently.”

“Yes, how did you-”

“You should be careful about who sees your comings and goings in the forest. They’re bound to draw attention if you don’t tread lightly.”

“Whose attention would I be drawing?” Sakura asked.

“You’ve met them then, whatever it is at the shrine?” Kakashi said, circumventing Sakura’s question.

Sakura stilled. “You know about the shrine?”

Kakashi shrugged, making the gesture look like an effort. He looked so tired, as if he were carrying the burden of the world upon his shoulders. But he wasn’t Atlas and Sakura was no Hercules to shoulder the weight. “I know of it. I’ve never been allowed close enough to examine it or even see it really.”

“Not allowed? What do you mean?”

“How’s Yamato?” Kakashi asked abruptly, derailing Sakura’s line of questioning. “I heard he’s turned his back on the Senju.”

“The Senju turned their backs first,” Sakura replied, lip curling in disgust. “They’ve never treated him well.”

“And you do?”

Sakura’s mouth firmed at his tone, knowing exactly what he was implying. “Yamato is my friend; I am not his master or liege lord. We’re equals.”

“Really,” Kakashi said. “And does he know that?”

Sakura whirled on him, exasperated. “Yes. Yamato is my friend, my family. I have never and would never subject him to the treatment he received at the hands of the Senju.”

“The Senju are his family,” Kakashi pointed out. “They even have a stronger claim with genetics and all that.”

“No, they are not his family,” Sakura said fiercely. “They treated him like cannon fodder, a tool whose value only comes from how well he served them. That isn’t who he is and that isn’t what family is.”

Kakashi was silent for a long moment. Sakura watched him, knowing that he was processing her words. “How’d he do it?” he asked finally, voice low and fervent. Sakura blinked, surprised at the change. Kakashi was usually distant and cryptic but now…well, he seemed desperate. “How did you free him?”

“What? I didn’t-”

“Kakashi!” a voice barked.

Sakura turned, hand at the hilt of her knife. At her side, Kakashi slumped and all that energy, that vivacity, drained away until he was once more that remote individual. In the shadows of the trees, a man stood. The darkness mostly hid the scarring, but his eye glowed red in that distinctly Uchiha way. He was dressed resplendently in dark, heavy clothing, covered from neck to toe in fabric. It was an outfit better suited to winter, rather than the sweltering heat of summer.

“Obito,” Sakura greeted, nodding to him slightly. “It has been a while.”

“It is good to see you well, Dr. Haruno,” he replied with a wide smile. He stared at her in a frank, unnerving way. “Quite good indeed.” Then his attention turned to Kakashi and the smile fell away, even as his single eye began to spin. “Kakashi, come.”

Sakura bit her tongue as Kakashi moved the distance between herself and Obito, every inch the recalcitrant dog. He stopped at Obito’s shoulder, turning to face Sakura once more. His expression was blank and lifeless, the exact opposite of the passion there only moments ago. What on earth was going on?

“I apologize for my colleague’s countenance,” Obito said, seemingly ignoring Kakashi now. His attention was solely upon Sakura. “Kakashi has always been a gloomy individual. Never good at keeping friends around. Was he bothering you?”

“No, not at all!” Sakura hastened to say, wary of the stormy look on Obito’s face. He was different from the other Uchiha somehow and Sakura was beginning to see why Itachi and Shisui seemed to fear him, skirting around even the mention of him. Obito was terrifying in a wild, unpredictable sort of way. “Kakashi has been quite kind.”

Obito hummed, striding close enough that she could feel his body heat. A gloved hand pressed beneath Sakura’s chin, lifting it for his perusal. Sakura glared into his single visible eye, refusing to be distracted by his scars or the pattern of hippogriffs on his eyepatch. A flash of movement caught her attention as Kakashi made an aborted gesture, reaching out to her before drawing back into himself.

Sakura frowned.

Kakashi was afraid.

He clicked his tongue. “I just don’t understand the family’s interest in you. You’re such a scrawny, wiry thing. Not much personality either.”

Sakura smiled at him, holding steady eye contact. She refused to back down from him. She knew his type all too well, the sort who got mean and nasty because they were so hurt and broken themselves that they just had to propitiate those feelings onto others. If they couldn’t be happy, no one could. “Didn’t realize I was giving a performance,” she said, hand on the hilt of the knife. It wouldn’t do much, but it’d at least sting a bit if Obito chose to pull any stunts. “Would’ve performed better if I knew I had an audience.”

Obito grinned, the smile cutting just as well as any blade. He drew closer to her, until his breath touched her lips. “Well, color me surprised. Seems you’ve got a bit of fire in you yet.” He released her, pushing her away as he turned back to Kakashi. His strides were strong and sure as he walked past Kakashi, snapping his fingers. “Come. I look forward to seeing how you weather the coming storm, Dr. Haruno.”

Obito didn’t look back as he strode off further into the woods.

Kakashi, however, did.

Sakura saw two feelings warring in his expression. The first was a deep-set, heart-wrenching pain.

The second?

Sakura frowned, ignoring the way the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end.

The second was pity.

“D-Dr. Haruno?”

Sakura glanced up from her history book, surprised to have been interrupted. She’d thought she was the only one who came to this little park. It was situated between two of the downtown buildings, only accessible through a seemingly empty and dingy alley. Apparently, she was mistaken. She squinted, unable to make out the interloper as his considerable mass blocked the light of the street lamps. “Yes?” she asked, placing the book in her lap.

“It is you!” he replied, sounding relieved. “Good, I was worried. I-we’ve never met before. I mean, I’ve heard of you but that’s a bit different than actually meeting you.”

Sakura stood, shifting slightly so she could see his features. He was tall, taller even than Kisame. She wondered if he had any giant’s blood in his family as the heritage certainly seemed to fit. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage then, Mr…”

“Juugo,” he said, shaking her hand. “Just Juugo.” He looked around and Sakura caught the shifty nervousness that fairly emanated from him. “Look, is there somewhere we can go? I…I have an injury that needs treating.”

“Of course,” Sakura said, shoving the book down into her bag. Her eyes flitted over him, assessing. She couldn’t see any immediate concerns. “Would you like to go back to my clinic?”

“No,” he said, looking around furtively. “Look, I…I can’t be seen with you. I can’t be admitted officially. I’ll get in trouble.”

“Who would get you into trouble?” Sakura asked. “You will be safe at the clinic. And there are…policies in place that will protect you from getting into trouble with me if you don’t have…certain information.” She’d seen this skittishness before and each and every time it broke her heart. “Hey.” She waited until he looked her in the eyes. He had kind eyes, gentle. Haunted. Her smile was soft as she continued, “This is my private practice; I make the rules. You will be safe with me. What do you say?” Sakura stuck out her hand again.

Juugo hesitated before taking her hand. “Okay. How will we get to the clinic though?”

“Leave that to me,” Sakura replied, rifling through her bag. She pulled out a little charm, passing it to Juugo. “This is a notice-me-not charm. It isn’t powerful enough to register on people’s magic sensors, but it should last us long enough to get to the clinic. No one else will be at the clinic at this time of night.”

“You carry distraction charms with you to read in the park?” he asked, looping the cord around his neck.

Immediately, Sakura’s eyes slid away from him, unable to focus on his presence. “Never hurts to be prepared,” Sakura said, thinking of Kakashi’s cryptic warning.

She heard Juugo hum in agreement as they left the alley and made their way toward the clinic. There were very few people out at this time and a few waved in Sakura’s direction. Thankfully, none seemed to notice Juugo beside her.

The made it to the clinic without incident and Sakura took him back to one of the rooms, flicking on the lights as she went.

“So, what seems to be the problem today, Juugo?” she asked.

“It’s probably best if I show you,” he said, pulling off his shirt and turning his back to her.

Sakura’s eyes went wide as she took in the set of gashes that marred his shoulder. They were no longer bleeding, but the wounds were deep and raw. “Sit down!” Sakura said, drawing closer to examine the wound. She was more than slightly surprised that he’d managed to behave so normally with a wound like this. The edges of it were discolored, green with either infection or magic or a mix of both. “On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you feeling right now?”

“A two,” Juugo replied. “It doesn’t really hurt; I’ve had worse. I was just going to let it heal on its own but when the wound changed colors, I thought it best to get help.”

“You did the right thing, Juugo,” Sakura said. “I’m going to check your vitals before I treat the wound, is that alright?”

Juugo shrugged, the heavy muscles of his arms and back rippling with the motion. The wound stretched with the movement, but Juugo truly didn’t seem to feel it.

Sakura quickly and efficiently ran through the tests of his vitals, finding all within a normal threshold. She looked at the gashes on his shoulder blade again, pondering. “How did you get these wounds?” Juugo remained silent. “Juugo, I’m not asking out of some desire to condemn you; I need to know so that I make sure I give you the best possible treatment.” Still, he stayed quiet. Sakura sighed. “Alright. Well can you at least tell me if the attack was magical or not?”

“…magic was involved,” Juugo said.

Sakura nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “It looks like the flesh was cursed during the attack. Are you allergic to holy water?” Juugo shook his head. “Wonderful. I’ll start by cleaning your wound with holy water before applying a poultice. Two of these gashes will need stitches, I can nearly see the bone.”

“Okay,” Juugo said.

“It will be painful,” Sakura said. “The holy water will eat away the curse and it will feel like a burning sensation to you.”

“I don’t mind,” he replied. “Do what you need to do.”

“Would you like me to numb the area first?”

“No!” Juugo said, turning to look at her. He coughed and said again, more sedately, “No thank you.”

Sakura nodded, pulling on gloves before she grabbed a few vials of holy water. She poured the first bottle along the edges of the highest gash, grimacing as the flesh immediately began to sizzle. Juugo didn’t so much as groan, sitting as still as stone as Sakura began the painstaking task of cleaning out the wound. As she surveyed the skin, Sakura noticed a bandage applied against Juugo’s neck.

“Juugo,” Sakura said, continuing with the treatment. “Did your wound extend further up?”

“No,” he replied.

“Then why do you have a bandage at your neck?” Sakura reached out, grazing her fingers along the bandage. “Whatever it is, I could treat-”

“No!” Juugo shot to his feet, upending Sakura’s table of surgical equipment. The remaining vials of holy water hit the ground, shattering. He turned to her, eyes wild as his hand clamped down over the bandage. He clutched so hard and Sakura could see the rivets of blood streaming out from beneath the bandage. “Don’t touch me!”

Sakura placed the holy water down, holding up her empty hands. She was intimately aware of the fact that Juugo was more than twice her size and that they were alone. “Juugo, I am so sorry,” she said, keeping her voice steady and calm. “I didn’t mean to upset you, truly. I shouldn’t have touched you there without your permission. I won’t do so again. Will you please allow me to continue treating your shoulder?”

Juugo watched her and Sakura was alarmed to see his flesh start to turn gray under his hand. He began to grin and Sakura backed up slowly, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Sorry?” he asked and his voice was pitched differently, higher, more lively. “You’re sorry?”

“Juugo,” Sakura said cautiously.

“I’ll show you sorry!”

He pounced just as Sakura slammed the door shut and ran for the front door, cursing herself for leaving her bag and her phone in the operating room. Stupid, stupid, stupid! There was a thunderous crash behind her as she flung open the door to the clinic and ran outside, not really knowing what her plan was. She just knew she had to get him away from the clinic, from her family.

“Sakura!” came the call from above and behind her, but Sakura didn’t have the luxury of turning around and seeing who it was. “Juugo!”

There was a thump beside her and suddenly Kimimaro was there, staring up at Juugo, completely calm. Sakura whirled, ready to pull Kimimaro out of the way. Juugo’s skin was now fully gray and his once soft eyes were changed, schlera black and irises poison yellow.

“Juugo,” Kimimaro repeated and there was a melodic, hypnotic quality to his voice. “Be still. Calm your rage.”

Juugo slowed to a stop, irises expanding as he stared at Kimimaro. The gray of his skin receded and suddenly his eyes were that warm gold that they once were. Juugo looked around wildly, deflating with relief when he saw Sakura. He began to fold in on himself, looking small and bereft despite his stature.

“Juugo,” Sakura said, stepping forward. She wasn’t sure what just happened, but seeing him now…all she knew was that he hadn’t been in control. “Juugo.”

Kimimaro shook his head, stepping in front of her. “Come, Juugo. I’ll take you home.” Kimimaro slipped Juugo’s arm across his shoulders, strength belying his slight frame. His eyes were piercing as he walked past her and out into the dark of night. “It’s late. Nothing good comes in the dark hours of the night. Goodnight, Dr. Haruno.”

Sakura watched as the duo disappeared into the shadows of the night, heart heavy.

[dungeonsandberries]

Session 18: Confrontation

I didn’t waste a moment. I drew the Tome of Burning, the valuable book of fire magic which had been such a boon to us thus far. I treasured it, but I would sooner trade it than watch a single of my companions die at the hands of these monsters. I used what magic was left in it to launch a fireball at the hags, followed by chucking the book itself at them, enveloping them in a pair of explosions which could have easily incinerated a small army. But when the flames cleared, the hags remained standing, burned but quite alive.

Still, the tome’s sacrifice was not in vain. The hags clearly felt that, softening them up for us to handle. My companions clearly took this encounter just as serious as I did, as Felfedau sampled some of the powerful strain of Laborer’s Respite that Marv found in the swamp. This sent her into a hyperactive frenzy, possibly beyond what I had seen from Marv’s own drug trips or Maevia’s battle lust. I was worried for her, but I also couldn’t wait to see her unleashed upon the hags.

Veilour chose to approach safely, taking shots at the hags from his crossbow, and his eye for vital areas carried even from that distance, as I could see them recoil in pain as each bolt that landed found a tender spot.

The hags had clearly been watching us up until now, and knew how dangerous Maevia was, and tried to use their magic to incapacitate her and fling her at us. But Maevia’s will was stronger, and she resisted their effects. I countered by using my own magic to ensorcell Auntie Huggles, making her turn her bear hugs upon her coven sisters instead of us.

Felfedau ran into their midst, despite the danger. She brought forth her strange powers again, striking fear into the hags while assailing them with a flurry of punches and kicks. I feel less ashamed of the fear that I was stricken with when I saw her use those powers, considering even these hags were not immune.

At this point, our foes clearly knew that the fight had turned in our favor, and their ringleader tried to shield herself in ice and mist that chilled to the bone. Marv warned us not to approach, but we managed to make an opening, which Felfedau ran into despite the danger. I couldn’t make out what happened from there, due to the obscuring ice and mist, but moments later the icy shield erupted into fragments and the mist dissipated, and Felfedau was left jittering over the pummeled corpse of their leader.

This left only Huggles, who we quickly overwhelmed with numbers. All three of them then laid dead at our feet, and I felt an immense wave of relief wash over me. I had thought we were going to die, but we all came out of it alive, even if Felfedau had to be soothed with my magic due to the effects of the drug in her system.

I pulled each of my friends into a hug. It was perhaps a bit awkward on my point, but it really struck me in that moment how much each of them meant to me. Even Marv, who was busy off to the side declaring the swamps as his own sovereign land, dubbing them Swamplandia. In my emotional moment, I even agreed to write the anthem for him… I suspect I will regret that decision soon.

We were all exhausted beyond words, and desired only rest. Rest we had earned. We retired to the cave, where we erected another magical dome to shelter us from danger and prying eyes. Arjun announced his decision to leave us, due to his vendetta with the hags being settled, and entrusted us with his sister’s necklace as thanks for our help. He was a man of few words, but he was a valuable companion, even if I never got as close to him as the others, and I’m glad to have been able to help him.

Marv declared to us his full intention to make Swamplandia a reality. We assured him that we would assist him, but I made it very clear that I was not going to live in this swamp.

Somehow I suspect that I will get roped into it anyway.

Either way, Veilour seemingly trusted us now enough to reveal more of his history. According to his tale, the von Freitz family, the ladies to which he was an unwilling servant, had once managed to secure the service of a powerful devil. The devil was slain, but may have found a way to escape death, by implanting itself into the unborn child of a serving girl.

As horrifyingly wicked as that act was, the implication was possibly even more dire. Veilour may in fact be that devil, at least to some extent. But what was more important to me is that he did not wish to revert to his prior nature, if that was indeed the case. I would ensure that he wouldn’t, as would the rest of us. It did nothing to shake our confidence in him.

Still, it is something to keep in mind should we have to confront his mistresses. They may have some means of commanding him, similar to the power my master had over me with my collar.

The next morning, we finally left the horrible swamp behind us… for now, godsdamnit, Marv… and chose to travel to the Hunt Lord’s Court. It was quite a detour, a full three weeks of traveling, which were mostly peaceful and relaxing. Exactly what I needed after that swamp experience. We even found some clean water I could use to bathe myself.

I was so inspired by my allies choosing to make such a detour for my sake that I made what was likely the best performances of my life to entertain them along the journey. I was likely inspired by getting to see more of my father’s homeland with my own eyes, and I admit I have begun to enjoy the rustic life. I’ve even stopped using prestidigitation on Maevia’s cooking. I hope she never finds I out I used to do that.

We found the Hunt Lord’s Court at last, a simple lodge in the woods, guarded by what I presume to be elite warriors. I stepped forward to extend a cordial greeting, informing them of the spy we had rescued from the swamp, in hopes that he had made it here before us and told them of us. And thankfully, he had, as the guards were eager to welcome us inside to meet their leaders.

Then Marv approached, and began to speak about Swamplandia. The guards simply urged him inside, much to my relief, and I hoped he wouldn’t do that again until I had my collar removed.

Inside we met the Hunt Lord himself, an elf named Valoneiros, who gestured to a nearby pyre expectantly. I got his meaning, and lit it as part of a diplomatic greeting, which seemed to be exactly what he wanted from me. He then introduced us to his companions, a lizardfolk named Hahilie, and the gnome mage, Ayre.

I was excited to see him, but I kept my composure as best I could, as I told him of our success in killing the hags. I was just about to present my collar to Ayre, when Marv began talking about Swamplandia again.

If I could sweat, I suspect I would have begun to do so, profusely. It took all of my willpower not to drop a Silence spell on him. I didn’t know how Valoneiros would take someone coming in and laying claim to land so close to his own. Thankfully, they took him seriously, and seemed willing to acknowledge Swamplandia’s sovereignty.

Ayre then worked his magic on my collar, and it simply… snapped off. It was all so unceremonious that I didn’t even realize that it happened until Ayre assured me that I was free. It still took me several moments to fully process it, and as it began to sink in, I became overwhelmed with emotion. Joy, relief, exhilaration… and strangely a bit of sadness and regret, that part of me that enjoyed the simplicity of the life I used to have. Felfedau’s hand on my shoulder quickly reminded me that as hard as this new life was, I preferred it significantly more.

We then turned to Veilour’s troubles, and the invisible prying eyes which had been following us. Ayre couldn’t sense it with us at this moment, meaning that either they simply weren’t watching, or had chosen to stop when we found out they were doing it. Or perhaps they merely stopped when they realized we were in the presence of someone who could trace the magic back to them, if that’s even possible.

I suggested that it might be the cult, and took that opportunity to inform them of our journeys thus far. They swore to prevent them from taking root in their lands, but seemed unwilling to lend aid anywhere else, and even seemed to find Tidesoria’s troubles amusing. I understand they’d been victimized, but I hope I expressed the real danger they presented if allowed to accomplish their goals, and that they would be washed away with the guilty if not stopped.

Our meeting was cut short by a messenger seeking Veilour. I think all of our blood ran cold at that moment, most of all Veilour’s. The note the messenger delivered outwardly seemed a pleasant well wishing from Veilour’s mistresses, but I could sense the threat behind those words. Veilour saw even deeper, to a coded message saying that they had his mother, and would kill her if he didn’t return with the Phantom’s Teardrop.

Marv sent the messenger back with a message saying that we’d break the Teardrop if any harm befell Veilour’s mother. Some of us had reservations about this plan, and I hope it doesn’t backfire on us. Either way, our next destination is clear. The cult would have to wait. Justice comes for the von Freitz family.

 At least, I hope…

[childrenofathoria-rp-blog]

◆Out Of Character Information◆

Name/Age: Admin Raven, 24 Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Timezone:  EST Desired Character: Eris McKenna 

◆Character Information◆ (1)  What pronouns will your character be using? Would you like to list their sexuality at this time?:She/her - Bisexual (2)  Any changes or comments? Nope! (3) Why this character?

I always wanted to play a witch! Our entire lore surrounding them and their connection to the Fae is so interesting. I miss playing a character with elemental powers and I’ve yet to play one with fire abilities. Eris is one of the few gifted humans around with ties to dark magic and, to be honest, I’m like feeding my demon muse through her a bit. Her presence in-game would be refreshing and since she’s not in a clan, she has a lot of autonomy. She’s very different from Nita and while they both have anger issues, Eris is a lot more unhinged. Not to mention that Eris would be one of the first characters that I play that isn’t a warrior. (4) Interpret this character:

I feel like power is something that drives Eris more than anything. She isn’t interested in ruling or leading, I think she seeks immortality or perhaps god-hood, even. She believes that witches are the superior species between all others, but the one thing that holds them back is their mortality. Eris doesn’t think it’s fair that they were born with such abilities, but can only use them to extend their lives, not preserve them. The sorceress despises the limits placed on gifted humans by the Guild and hopes to do away with them one day.

I suppose the sins she leans towards most is wrath and greed. I plan to play her anger as something that can begin as a slow simmer that evolves into wildfire when agitated. She has little patience with meek or rude people and demands respect without having earned it. If she feels that her pride is threatened, she will not hesitate to retaliate. Eris can be quite haughty in nature and loves playing the seducer; she has no trouble with using her sexuality for personal gain. Eris’ name means “strife” and she’ll surely lives up to that namesake.

As cliche as it sounds, I headcanon that Eris comes from a prominent line of fire mages, but her father had an affinity for water. When her magic bloomed, she took to water magic naturally despite her obsession with fire. Through practice and hard work, Eris became moderately skilled in the fire elemental area, but knew she lacked the proper connection to truly master it. This was one of the factors that drove her to make her bargain with Xaphan. Her affinity for water faded completely after the deal’s conclusion. I think it’s ironic that she basically cheated her way to achieve power and it’s likely one of her biggest secrets.

I consider Eris to be a bit of loner, someone who doesn’t truly have friends, but allies. She’s not a good person and I’d love to see her possibly build some meaningful connections. I imagine she’d have some animosity toward the Mighty Oak coven, I headcanon that her mother had ties with them, but wasn’t exactly a member. A personal endgame I have in mind for her is to meet her end at the Guild’s hands, perhaps with assistance from the Mighty Oak Coven.

When it comes to other species, I think she’s extremely curious about the Fae and the creature who sired her mother’s line. After a bit of research I learned that her surename McKenna(which is Irish) comes from the old Gaelic name “MacCionaodha” which meant “child of Aodh’s love”. Aodh was the name of a Celtic fae god of fire. So I’d like to take this piece of real life myth and give it an Athorian spin by including that Fae in her lineage and possibly future plots. While she may feel some sense of pride for gifted humans, she looks down on those who limit themselves. She gravitates toward the like-minded mages of Leeds, rather than those who live in the forest.

Eris is very intrigued by vampires and wants to learn how they came to be. She is wary of them  but has been known to take one to her bed every now and again. On other hand, she is quite indifferent toward werewolves and has no fear of the beasts. Eris is knowledgeable of Reapers and has yet to meet an Angel. She is greatly interested in Specters though and using them to connect to the netherworld they’re tethered to.

With Nate’s plans to expand Athoria, she has grown extremely wary of the crown and Nate’s ambitions. She still plans to seek out Lords like Theo to learn all that she can about the Athors. In addition to her penchant for divulging secrets, she has plans to finally gain access to the Ravenswood library. She knows there are spell books and tomes that might be beneficial to her goals.

The dark witch is a master fire mage and is a great conjurer, and is proficient with harnessing shadows. While she has knowledge of necromancy, she doesn’t practice it and leans toward blood and demonic magic.

Eris’ wand is fashioned from silver due to the corrupt nature of her magic. Wooden wands are easily reduced to cinder from even the most basic spells. Silver is a high level conductor of magic that carries energies instead of storing it. On each side of the wand are gems that act as conduits for magical energy. ◆ Interview Questions ◆

(1) Question One: Did you have any regrets about sacrificing your mother?

“I loved my mother, yes, but she  and I never got along. She always asked why I couldn’t be more like my cousin – pious, quiet, and obedient. From the day my magic bloomed, she tried to quell that fire in me. A parent is supposed to accept their children for what they are, correct? All she did was try to change me, so that I could be what she wanted. And when she realized that I would not change, she attempted to force it upon me by trying to strip me of my magic. Instead of letting me walk my own path, my mother intended for me to suffer, magicless and empty, in this beautiful world. To take my magic would mean to take my soul; to take my soul means to kill me. So I gave her to my lord, Xaphan, and I have not regret it since.” (2) Question Two: Do you have a favorite type of fire spell?

“Elemental spells are definitely my favorite type. There is so much one can do with fire, it can be used to create, purify, or destroy…but I tend to lean towards the last, of course. If you want specifics, then my favorite spell is one called Nova Mortis. The user speaks the required incantation and kisses the victim on the lips, transferring a tiny ember into the body. Over time, the ember blossoms, cooking them from the inside out. It is a slow process, though and if you look closely, you can see the fire dancing in their veins. ◆Writing Sample:◆

Eris seemed to drift silently through the brush as she walked. At her flank, her mother, Minerva, lied in a shadow-forged cocoon. She trapped her in a stasis and bound her in shackles that nullified magic. All it took was a simple lie and some crocodile tears and she had her mother ensnared. She’d been so relieved to hear what she finally wanted — that Eris would give into her wishes and be the obedient daughter. Minerva hadn’t even sensed the potion in her wine, not until it was too late. Now, she was being lead to Eris’ den. The hide-out was a warded cave north of Grimsby. She needed to be away from Hallowed Oak, a place where the Green Man couldn’t listen and his hags would pry at the spike of demonic energy.

Once inside, she lowered her mother onto the stone altar. Everything was already in place. Candles lined the altar’s round edges, sitting at each point of the pentagram. In the arm of each star lied runes and sigils, written in blood. A few yards away from the altar lied the summoning circle that her lord would emerge from.“Céimnithe.” Eris uttered, dispersing the shadows.“Ardú.” She said, with a snap of her fingers.

Minerva jolted awake, mouth taking in air as if she’d been drowning. Her green eyes went to her daughter, an expression of betrayal in them. “Whatever you plan on doing, Eris, I beg you…do not to it. Please…”

The dark mage merely gave her a hateful glare, hands working a mortar and pestle. “Where was my mercy, Mother?” She sprinkled herbs and spices into the bowl, mixing in the blood of a ram and boar — Xaphan’s sacred animals. “You tried to kill me as well, you know.”

“I tried to banish your magi—”

Eris cut her off. “There is no difference!”

“You needed to be saved from yourself!” Minerva retorted. “I am your mother and I must protect you, no matter the cost. If you continue down this path, the Guild will have you killed. I cannot let that happen!”

“Who are they to tell me how to use my magic? My. Magic. We can bend the very energies of this world to our will and we must limit ourselves and shy away from power. They’d rather we live our mortal lives praying to the fae, false idols, and obscure gods. They’d rather we sit in a circle and sing to that fucking tree you call a deity!” It was fortunate that no one could hear them from the outside, otherwise all of Athoria could hear them argue. “My god is not bound to the earth, a true god breaks their chains…a true god is a being beyond this world.” Eris pressed a hand to her mother’s brow, the gesture almost loving in nature. “Fortunately, you will have eternity to comprehend his power.”

Her mother began to weep. It was as if she had finally realized how far her daughter had gone, that perhaps she pushed her to this point. “I love you, Eris. You are my daughter, my only child. Please…”

The woman’s hand moved to Minerva’s throat, squeezing. “You never loved me…not truly. Not the way you should. All I ever heard growing up was stories of our line, the Fire-Born beloved children of the Fae called Aodh.” She released her mother, allowing her to breathe. “I’ll never forget that look on your face when you saw me by the river those years ago, when you realized I was like my father. All that talk of the McKenna blood and legacy…and I was the imperfection. From the moment I was born you projected your expectations on me, wished me to be anything other than what I am.” A blissful smile colored Eris’ features. “Well now…I’ll be free of you.”

Eris didn’t bother to let her mother respond. With single word, the woman was silenced for as long as she willed it. The sorceress placed the bowl in the middle of the summoning circle and grasped her spellbook. Kneeling before the circle, she turned to the proper page, letting her aura loose. In an old, crude tongue she began to speak the incantation. The spell’s notes said the language was called Dimoori Sheol, the language of the damned. Every syllable tugged at her soul, sending pulses of dark energy through her frame. The process wasn’t nearly as taxing as the first time she summoned Xaphan. Her book indicated that the user’s first time would require a sacrifice of their life force, as a gesture of devotion. This time, Xaphan only required an offering.

The red witch’s eyes cast white as her head tilted toward the ceiling. Her spell shook the very walls and caused the candles in the space to flare. The ingredients within the bowl began to smoke and bubble until it overflowed. Her mixture disintegrated the dish and pooled to the circle’s edges. The boiling grew violent, the smoke thicker until it filled the space in a haze of brimstone. At the incantation’s climax, the ichor caught fire and from it, a form began to rise. The blue of Eris’ eyes returned and she gazed upon her lord with revere.

“Eris, my most loyal, you’ve come to bargain?” Xaphan asked. His form changed from one shape to the next, each appearance more horrifying than the one before.

“Yes, my lord, Xaphan.” Eris rose to her feet and turned to her mother. The poor woman had soiled herself in the demon’s presence. Her eyes were wide with fear as she trembled. “I have brought my mother, as promised. Her soul is yours to command.”

The demon’s laugh sent a shudder through her. “And what would you have in exchange?” He inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Power. I want the fire to be mine as it is yours. To ruin those who would stand in my way and wreak havoc in your name.”

Xaphan smiled at her reply, his form writhing against the circle’s bounds. “Then give her to me and your sacrifice shall be rewarded,”

Eris stood at her mother’s side, face softened by her impending sorrow. She couldn’t hear Minerva’s pleas for mercy, but she read them on her lips. Perhaps that was why she silenced her, so that she couldn’t be convinced to do so. Despite their turbulent relationship, Eris loved her mother, otherwise it wouldn’t be a true sacrifice. During her time with a coven of conjurers, she learned that nothing was gained without loss. Everything had a price and if one wasn’t willing to pay, then they didn’t deserve it. “Your death will not be in vain.” Eris said, raising a dagger of fire. “Chuid eile i tine.” She plunged the knife into Minerva’s heart, unsilencing her to hear the screams.  

If she wouldn’t let her plead for her life, she could at least hear her die. Tears streamed down Eris’ cheeks as the fire engulfed her mother. While Minerva’s body burned on the altar, the light of her soul fluttered from the ashes. The ball of energy hovered just above Eris’ hand as she guided it to Xaphan, dropping to one knee. “I have done as you asked, she is yours my Prince.” She pushed Minerva’s soul into the circle and watched as the demon fed it through serrated teeth.

“It is done, my child. Do not weep, rejoice in your gift.” He said.

Eris then felt a burning in her chest. The pain was so intense, that she sank to the floor. For a moment, she thought Xaphan deceived her. Yet when she looked down, she saw her heart glow orange-red beneath her skin. The fire candlefire matched the pattern of her breath and she felt like the very sun lived in her veins. By the time she looked up, Xaphan was gone and only the crackle of fire remained.