#and they had to travel a while between the orphanage and the final battle site. which was. apparently! octovern.

[orcelito]

OKAY i fixed the most glaring canon inconsistency for ITNL that i discovered last night

which is. the fact that i fully thought the final battle happened in December. but turns out it happened in Octovern!

idr if they mentioned it outright that they were heading there, but they mentioned "humanity's last stand" in December so. i just. fully thought that's where everything happened. but then Meryl mentions Octovern at the end & i double checked and. yea it sure says Octovern on the wiki lmfao.

i'll have to read thru it more carefully (i wasn't exactly reading too closely for details yesterday) to figure out Exactly what the fuck is going on with the locations here. but for now, every reference to the final battle in ITNL has been changed to Octovern

sigh.

[druddigoon]

so i’m supposed to be working on scholarship applications but instead of writing 500 words on why i should receive money (bc i’m poor) i typed out 1.4k words of bederia smh

anyways cheeky au where bede feels feelings

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> Nervousness, worry; something heavy building up in the heart, weighed down like a lagging tail; the bearer of bad news. Guilt. 

Bede lifts his arm up the second Gloria makes a move to get up from the couch. 

“Leaving?” he says. 

“Yeah.” It’s little more than an act nowadays, less for his benefit than Gloria’s. “It’s going to take at least a week to travel to and back from the dynamax sightings they want me to investigate, and I’d rather arrive back in time to catch the tail end of that fair you’re helping set up.” 

She’s wading her way around the coffee table when he grabs her hand. 

> Guilt, stronger now. Concern, rolling off in waves; can’t take deep breaths when the water line’s over your head. Resolve, don’t look back. No fear. 

No fear? Fear and concern usually go hand in hand. If she’s worried about running into a dangerous situation, why isn’t she scared about it? 

It takes him a while to realize she’s worried over him. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he blurts out, “This is your job, you’re the only one qualified enough to handle dens over five stars, and you’re doing it so Galar can be safe. I’d be an idiot to get mad at that.” 

“I know, I just wish it doesn’t have to be--” Gloria cuts herself off in the middle of her sentence. 

Doesn’t have to be like this. There were a lot of things that didn't have to be: Bede’s disqualification, the Eternatus incident, Gloria’s stepping down a year into her championship. Wistful ideations did not rewrite the stars. Both knew it very well. 

> Melancholy. Guilt loses its edge, dips down into resignation. 

She’s staring at the cluster of mushrooms starting to grow from the ceiling, glowing gentle hues of pink, blue, and green. For the umpteenth time, Bede wishes he could read thoughts instead of emotions. Doesn’t have to be like this. 

He sighs, lets go of her hand. “Come on. I’ll come to see you off at Hammerlocke.” 

--------------------------

Rule Number One: Never talk about your ability. 

Rule Number Two: Avoid touching anyone unless absolutely necessary.

Those were the two fundamental laws Bede set for himself during his time in the orphanage. Stories too grotesque to be put into words, stark terror and raw emotion. They blurred together to the point where he stopped caring--stopped reaching out, beat or intimidated anyone who tried to him. He withdrew. 

Compassion fatigue, he’d heard the social workers discuss, after his main caretaker quit. Emotional exhaustion leading to a decreased ability to feel empathy for others. The cost of care. He often wondered if he had that too, how others’ emotions were often so strong it had washed away his own, the dull ringing in his ears after he lost contact. Or maybe he’d always been like this. 

The first rule was broken when he accused his foster father of cheating, when he gave him a slap on the back after coming home from “work”. A day later he was picked up by Oleana, and told he’d shake hands with Macro Cosmos’s pawns during meetings. 

The second rule spiralled downwards when he accidentally bumped into a challenger, back in Galar Mine No 1. 

It’s such a hassle. So much easier to hate someone when he doesn’t know them. Rose is a man brimming with hope for the future, too bright to hold in a handshake for long. Oleana, once her obsessiveness and exhaustion and contempt for Bede has been whittled away from the manicured fingernails digging into his shoulder, is a woman who adores her saviour ever since the day he took her off the streets. He remembers the pity officers doled against his skin when they had to restrain him to be brought back to the orphanage, the desperation of a slipping boy when Hop’s knuckles bit into his lip. 

So much easier to hate when they weren’t all so human. 

--------------------------

In Ballonlea, where the sun fails to filter through the thick canopy of trees, time loses its grip. There is no such thing as a day and night cycle when all light comes from bioluminescent mushrooms, shining here before you were born and after you leave. 

Hammerlocke, in contrast, seems to be bathed in the light of the sun. Dying rays outline castle walls against a wash of red and gold, and shadows stretch over corners, gothic. The air is warm; he’d read somewhere that the obsidian masonry was designed to absorb heat during the day and release it at night, which saves them from temperature fluctuations as a mainland city near the wild area. Save for a few stragglers, the streets are empty. 

Bede is the first to arrive at the pokemon centre, teleported by his hatterene. 

Gloria wouldn’t arrive in a few minutes--she always liked taking the corvitaxi, watching the region pass by beneath her. Bede would accompany her if he didn’t have motion sickness. The last time they rode together had been...messy. 

He’s flipping through a curry catalogue in the lobby when she bursts in, windblown hair and old leather bag and all. 

“Sorry, I had to take a detour to get my stuff. Completely forgot about that, or I’d have brought them to your house.”  Golisopod lumbers in after, bags comically hanging on its upturned scutes. “Hope you didn’t wait long?” 

Bede checks his rotom-phone. Half an hour, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Yes, a whole fucking two minutes. I thought you were fine spending a month in the woods wearing the same clothes, eating berries and roots like a neanderthal.” 

“Oh, I hope Sylveon pukes on your pillow tonight.” The jab didn’t have much force to it, and he doesn’t need to touch her to see her stress; they’ve been around each other long enough for him to notice the incessant tic of her right foot, how she keeps running one hand over another as a soothing gesture, in the absence of his. 

(It’s endearing. He usually looks down at people who fail to disguise their fears, sees them as weak of will, but this is Gloria. She’s the girl who’d faced and captured gods, the girl known to take on the most unstable regions of the wild area and come out alive; she’s also the girl who released them after making sure they wouldn’t cause harm, the girl fretting not because she might be risking her life, but because Bede will miss her. It’s cute.) 

He sees her off at the Hammerlocke gates. Gloria has her back to him, checking maps, while her golisopod is already making its way down the stairs. The gap between them seems to be growing wider, and he wants nothing more than to reach for her shoulder. 

That would be crossing a boundary. They’d talked extensively about his ability, and she’d said yes, it’s okay to touch her, she had nothing to hide from him. But just because he has her consent doesn’t mean he’s privy to her feelings at the moment. 

Gloria closes her map, taking one step down the stairs.

Another step. Stops. 

She looks back. 

Whatever she sees on Bede’s face makes her turn around and run towards him. He doesn’t get a single word in before she throws her arms around him, almost barreling him over. 

> Courage, the strength to keep walking even though each step is a battle; confidence, the rain that washes away all doubt; hope, the fiercest of them all, a steady mantra of We’ll be okay.

He grips her tight, wishes for once he could speak his emotions like she’s speaking hers. Settles for balling all his conviction into a whisper. “You’re going to do phenomenal, you’re going to pummel whatever that dynamax pokemon is without breaking a sweat, and I’ll wake up a week from now with a million messages of how you kicked their ass. Don’t worry about me.” 

He can feel her smile from the shift of her cheek. “And I’m going to come back to Ballonlea’s first town fair sensationalised on the headlines of every media site, and finally get to ride on a ferris wheel that isn’t always ‘out of order’ like Wyndon’s is, because you did a great job bossing people and pokemon around. Don’t worry about me.” 

They let go. 

Gloria heads down the stairs to her golisopod. His skin burns warm as he watches them meet up, as they round the corner, until they are gone. 

[wrenchwitch-blog]

Session 0 - Mostly a Lecture

A session 0 is the first time all the players get together, but do not actually play the game.  This serves as a chance to establish schedules, set house rules, establish boundaries, work on characters, and just generally get a sense on if a group of players will gel before we get too terribly committed.

There are a lot of reasons I love adventure paths, but it does mean that there is a lot of baggage and expectation.  There is a line that needs to be carefully walked between allowing players to create characters freely, but also that will not be relevant or a terrible thematic fit.  One of the things that Paizo has published along with their APs are a Player’s Guide.  They offer some setting insights and suggestions for characters that will work well with what is to come.

I have taken this notion a bit further.  On top of the regular session 0 stuff, I get way into the weeds on setting.  In this case, the city of Korvosa.  I told my players that exactly why can be whatever you would want, but every player character needs to care about this city.  But how can you create a character that cares about a place you don’t know anything about?

So I started to discuss the city; the people, places, culture.  An orderly lot, deeply colored by the military outpost that predated the city proper.  Primarily a human city, three ethnic groups make up most of the populous.

Most in charge are the Chelaxians.  They are the descendants of colonists from hundreds of miles to the south.  They came to this land as part of their campaigns to take the world back from the giants and dragons that run over the north.  They saw themselves as benevolently raising the region up.  Things have changed in the few hundred years since the city’s founding.  Largely seen as invaders and abusers, taking advantage and looking down at everyone else.

Second are the native Varisians.  Traditionally Varisians are nomads, travelling in their carriages the paths their fore bearers tread for thousands of years.  Lovers of music and dancing, they value their freedoms above almost all else.  But the travelling life is hard on many.  For whatever reasons, some Varisians set down their roots.  Seen by the Chelaxians as liars and thieves, the Varisians are not seen as equals, even if their family’s have been Korvosan for generations.  The real fact of the matter is, more than half of the human population is of mixed Chellish and Varisian heritage.  The more obvious one’s Varisian heritage, the more scrutiny and dirty looks they are likely to get from authorities.

While far less numerous than the previous groups, extremely important are the Shoanti.  The Shoanti were the natives to the lands Korvosa now stands on.  A huge, ancient ziggurat from pre-history is their holy site.  A deeply traditional people, nature and family are paramount to the Shoanti.  The local Shoanti fought bloody wars with Chellish invaders from the moment boots struck the ground until they no longer had the numbers to meaningfully attack walls of mortar and stone.  While the Chellaxian people look Varisians with suspicion, the Shoanti are looked upon with scorn.

While ‘civilized’ non-humans are present and welcome, they are not especially numerous, not enough to pull culture in a big way.  The exception are the dwarves.  The closest city to Korvosa is the dwarven sky citadel of Janderhoff.  A bustling mining and forging town, the dwarves are often called upon as a third party to broker disputes between the three main human factions.

Korvosan law is strict, and the guard numerous.  Those that are caught breaking the law are dealt with severely.  Jail time tends to be 15-25% longer than most places.  Aside from the norms of thievery and violence, guilds are illegal in Korvosa.  Labor cannot organize, moguls can only hold one of any given type of business.  The system is not set up with economic mobility in mind.  The tension between those that have and those that do not may be coming to a head.

The church of Abadar, god of cities and commerce, is the largest and brightest shining cathedral in Korvosa.  They are instrumental in infrastructure and taxes, working closely with the government  The remaining churches will be listed in order of influence.

Asmodeus, archdevil of tyranny, pride, and contracts

Sarenrae, goddess of the sun, healing, and redemption

Pharasma, goddess of death, birth, and fate

Shelyn, goddess of art, beauty, and love

The Pantheon of the Many is the only church rivaling the Bank of Abadar.  A nondenominational building holding shrines for 17 of the 20 major deities of Golarion.  Those excluded are the god of destruction and entropy, the god of strength and battle, and the goddess of monsters and corruption.

Three armed forces secure the city streets and the country side surrounding Korvosa.  Most numerous are the Korvosan Guard, an organization leading all the way back to the founding of the city.  The guard are a mix of police force and standing army for the city.  Most of the time, they are patrolling around keeping order, but they can be marshaled to fight the cities enemies when war is declared.

The Sable Company take to the skies on their trained hippogriffs.  A mercenary company, their sole contract for hundreds of years has been with the city of Korvosa.  Their charge, to keep monsters away from the city.  As such, they do not really have jurisdiction within the walls of Korvosa.

The Hellknight Order of the Nail are the shocktroops for when the Korvosan Guard is not enough.  Hell bent on enforcing order and willing to go to extreme measure to that end.  The Order of the Nail marches through the streets with their fullplate and halberds seeking to quell chaos.  The Hellknights are far less numerous and have a weaker connection with the Korvosan government, but are often utilized like modern swat teams.

The ruler of Korvosa is King Eodred Arabasti II.  A lecherous old man, he has spent his several decades keeping out of the lives of most Korvosans.  He has kept taxes low and has not rocked the boat with too many amendments to the city charter, the majority of complaints about him are related to him either not doing enough, or the ever rotating harem he keeps.  Eodred has been making strides to do some good and leave some legacy as his age advances.  He has vastly expanded the number and quality of the city’s orphanages, and has solely bankrolled the construction of the Pantheon of the Many.  While neither loved nor hated by most, news of his health suffering has not been taken well by the city.

Korvosan’s relative ambivalence to Eodred absolutely does not extend to his wife, Queen Ileosa Arabasti.  Born to a high noble family, she was expected to marry someone more rich and influential than Eodred.  She instead traveled out to the far reaches to peruse a ‘royal’ in a backwater city of no meaningful import to the Chellish court.  Barely of age to marry, she is seen as a strumpet, that she ensorcesselled Eodred with her voice.  She is also seen as an outsider and invader, someone trying to take advantage of the lack of clear heir to the Crimson Throne.  In spite of how much she is loathed, she has not really done much of anything in the year and a half she has been married to King Eodred other than being a patron to the arts.

Finally, the titular curse.  No Korvosan monarch has died of natural causes, nor have they managed to have a child while ruling.  Eodred had the good fortune of being born before, his mother took power, but he has not had any children himself.  Prior to his marriage, there was no heir apparent.  This is almost certainly the biggest reason Ileosa is seen as an opportunist.

If the Curse of the Crimson Throne is a true curse, or an unfortunate coincidence, perhaps we will find out together.

That wraps up most of my session 0 discussion.  In practice, it was a back and forth, people would kick in questions or direct for additional detail.  While not the best example of showing in place of telling, I hoped this would set the stage for what would probably be hundreds of hours of game play to come.  I promise that these are going to get shorter from here on out.