#anevia tirabade

[lexsnotdead]

tirabade wives for pride month

+ flags, i wasn't sure which one i should use for them, so here are both. both is good

[sansevierias]

She never told Anevia that she'd sold her father's sword to pay for the elixir, for doing so brought Irabeth the final bit of closure she needed. Her father's legacy allowed her to bring joy to the one she loved more than anything, and that was precisely what she needed to get on with her new life. X Art sources: 1 2 3 4

[lukedanger]

Replaying WotR with all the DLC, I forgot how full of shit Regill is about the rest of the Crusades.

What prompted this is his nonsense about Irabeth. He acts as if she had no achievements to her name so he can pretend that she's unqualified when she has a PTSD breakdown before Drezen - as if she had not gone through Kenabres, or hadn't rebuilt the Eagle Watch from scratch to the point where it's one of the most competent forces (more competent than the Hellknights, TBH: at least the Eagle Watch doesn't have to threaten every soldier with execution for the slightest infraction)

I mean look at it - 'her first serious challenge'? Is Hellknight intelligence so incompetent that you don't even know her career before returning to Mendev? Did you forget that she and Anevia rebuilt the Eagle Watch from scratch after uncovering Baphomet's infiltration? Or do you not know that Kenabres survived because Irabeth managed to weld together a cohesive fighting force at the Defender's Heart and that the plan to take back the Grey Garrison was entirely hers?

Irabeth is no wet-behind-the-ears recruit thrown into high command without being tested: she's a veteran commander who's been fighting the Worldwound longer than anyone in the tent besides Anevia and Queen Galfrey (whom the narrative also maligns, I'll get to that in a minute). Irabeth has been fighting for high stakes: Mendev dies if they fail. If the Hellknights' token expeditions die? They lose some lances, but none of their core territories are threatened and they can easily shrug it off because the Crusades are basically Avistan's dumping ground for undesirables anyways.

This is a perfect example of the sheer arrogance of the Hellknights. Especially since Regill admits that just a glimpse of what happens in the Lost Chapel is almost enough to make him puke. Irabeth lived it and watched good people die in a horrible manner and be transformed into monsters against their will.

Irabeth isn't a coward. She's dealing with unrecognzied PTSD given how fast the march on Drezen usually occurs after Lost Chapel, and it picked the absolute worst moment to manifest... especially if the KC is an incompetent leader who constantly berates her and makes her a scapegoat for other people's failures.

It's not like Irabeth is asking to be dismissed - if you warn her that you'll bench her, she's terrified of being left behind to be the one who gets to mourn everyone that dies. She's still in the fight, she's just conscious that the odds are against them after how badly the gargoyle ambush went.

Galfrey, as an aside, acts as a leader should: she works to reassure Irabeth and console her. Galfrey has suffered immensely under the pressure of defending Golarion from the Worldwound with basically no support (Avistan's nations more or less uses the Crusades as a way to dispose of undesirables) - she knows what Irabeth is feeling. And the narrative did Galfrey so dirty by not giving her more moments like this - Galfrey's presence should have been an auto-success for reassuring Irabeth even if the KC still got to do a reassurance option even if only to give Irabeth an extra and much-needed verbal hug.

It's telling how much the narrative had to bend over backwards to make the Hellknights seem competent rather than a bunch of arrogant pricks who are trying to take credit for holding back the Worldwound while offering little actually useful. I think the most useful thing they do in Act II is give you another option to get at the giants at Drezen, everything else is them either being counterproductive, needing the crusaders they sneer at to save their asses, or volunteering to be vescavor fodder because their egos wouldn't let them stay behind while those best equipped to tackle the threat deal with it... and get the credit.

[dragonologist-phd]

14 Days of Femslash February

fics based on this kiss prompt list:

peck: a quick, light kiss on the partner’s lips or cheek (Naia/Shadowheart (T))

surprise: a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard (Arueshalae/Piper (G))

underwater: a kiss shared while submerged in water (Rudi/Maia (T))

hickey: a kiss that's supposed to leave a mark on the partner's skin (Lilith/Wenduag (E))

comfort: a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance (Cleo/Galfrey (G))

blowing: a kiss in the air and send of the gesture towards the partner (Marja/Sigrun (G))

hummingbird: a series of light, rapid, and fluttery kisses on a small area (Arueshalae/Piper (E))

tango dip: a kiss shared while one partner is dipped backward (Kanerah/Mercury (T))

wrist: a tender kiss on the inside of the partner's wrist (Araj/Naia (M))

lingering: a long, slow kiss filled with emotion and desire (Leliana/Marja, Marja/Sigrun (T))

seductive: a deep, slow, and deliberately intense kiss filled with passion and desire (Kagha/Lilith (M))

rain: a romantic kiss in the rain (Marja/Sigrun, (G))

hand: a chivalrous kiss on the back of the partner's hand (Lilith/Wenduag (G))

teasing: a light brushing of lips against a partner's skin without fully kissing (Anevia/Irabeth (E))

now fully updated! thank you everyone for reading and for your encouragement this month, this little project was a blast!

[2yara]

Midday Commander work w/your companions

Midnight raw meat snack w/your best buddy

[godofdystopia]

I like how my Azata playthrough of Wrath Of The Righteous basically ends with everyone fighting over who gets to adopt Ember.

Like my Azata halfling Helena is standing on her wife Arue's shoulders arguing about why Ember deserves to live with them and her new sister Aivu, while Irabeth and Anevia argue that *they* should be Embers parents. They manage to work out a compromise where they trade off every other week

Then Embers new wine mom Nocticula pops up with a hellhound puppy and the war begins anew

[lealeaus]

I always try to play as a non-rogue, but it doesn't work out.

Всё время пытаюсь играть за кого-то ещё кроме разбойника, но зачем если есть разбойник с магией?)

[rpgchoices]

We are almost at the end!! Welcome to round four!

Here we see Z'rell, the villain character from act 2 of Baldur's Gate 3, working with the Absolute and loyal ally of Ketheric vs Irabeth, proud wife of Anevia (the two are my favorite established couple in all videogames!), paladin of righteousness, and advisor of your character in Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous!

(this is the other poll, Dorn vs Dirrong)

[dujour13]

WIP Wednesday

I don't know what I'm doing. Just Woljif angst to get back to my roots

A quarter of an hour later as the chill of dusk settled over Drezen Woljif found himself on the Citadel stairs, tail twitching furiously. Flowers were strewn all about the stone steps and in the middle of them Irabeth Tirabade stood frowning down at him, a daisy stuck behind her ear.

“I’ve stopped filing Aivu incidents,” she said. “Just as long as somebody cleans up the mess. Ember said these were yours.”

“Who, me? These aren’t mine! Why would I—?”

She drew out the daisy and pushed it into his hands. “Get started.”

He opened his mouth to argue but that was when Anevia appeared and tossed him a stalk of bluebells and it was two against one and he knew when he was beaten.

Eventually he was free from their mirthful gaze and striding down the corridor toward the Knight-Commander’s chamber, what was left of the frazzled bouquet pressed to his chest, dropping petals in his wake. Guards clicked their heels and stood at attention as he passed. He was pretty sure he heard one of the dwarves let out a cough of laughter but when he whipped around they were all stony-faced and silent.

That’s it, I’m goin’ invisible next time.

At Siavash’s door he stood for a long moment, his heart pounding.

Was he really housebroken, like Viv said? Was he even doing this right? What if the chief changed his mind since last night? What if he had to walk back down that corridor in front of all those guards?

The turmoil made his chest ache and his tail tie itself in knots.

What if Siavash realized his mistake?

I’m nothin’.

He looked down at the stolen flowers. I got nothin’ to offer you. I’m nobody.

The old familiar empty feeling was back, gouging out his middle. What had he even been thinking? Bringing somebody flowers like a pathetic, lovestruck fool when it was obvious to everyone, himself first and foremost, how ridiculous that was. Some mangy street tiefling not even his own mother could love standing here thinking the Knight-Commander might kiss him if he just played his cards right, dressed up nice and swiped a bunch of wilted flowers for him. No wonder the guards were laughing. A droplet landed on the petal of an iris and he had to squeeze his eyes shut really hard to stop another from escaping.

[lexsnotdead]

irabeth and anevia not appearing in a dance of masks is such a waste of opportunity because 1) they both desperately need a break 2) about time the roles switched from tirabades always being damsels in distress to them rescuing the commander instead (not that i mind saving lesbians. stand behind me i will protect you <3)

[gefdreamsofthesea]

I thought I would highlight some of my favourite queer characters in Pathfinder.

Shelyn, Desna, and Sarenrae are in a polyamorous relationship. Your PCs can even worship all three as the Prismatic Ray pantheon!

Arshea is the Empyreal Lord of freedom, physical beauty, and sexuality. Their worshipers eschew gender roles and many enjoy crossdressing.

ETA: I had added a couple iconics and NPCs I liked but tumblr ate them so here's a brief list: Anevia and Irabeth Tirabade, Mios, and Kyra and Merisiel

[cassynite]

Sparrow and Gregoriath

Some different conversations today had me inspired to finally finish this little scene where Sparrow's past finally catches up to her.

For context: Gregoriath Arvanxi is Evaethi Arvanxi's father and Sparrow's master, who had Sparrow trained specifically as a body double. When Evaethi ran away on the way to Mendev, Sparrow took her place and kept it a secret from Gregoriath to keep him from killing her. The only reason Sparrow didn't just run away herself is that she was branded with a tracking rune which allows Gregoriath to find her anywhere in the world when it's activated. Sparrow was working to find a way to remove it when Deskari attacked Kenabres. Up until this point, Gregoriath had been under every impression that Evaethi was still with Sparrow.

To avoid accidental name slips when in public, Sparrow is referred to as "Eva" by the Arvanxi family as a whole.

Cw: references to physical abuse, slavery, emetophobia at the end

Hope you enjoy!

----

"Commander." Anevia's mouth was not in its typical curl, and Sparrow's spine straightened to attention in response. After a pause, she continued, "Got a visitor from Cheliax. A Lord Gregoriath Arvanxi."

Sparrow went still, an animal sensing a predator nearby, then forced herself to relax. She had expected this to happen eventually. Irabeth was right next the council table, Regill outside in the hall conferring with the Hellknight contingent in Drezen. There were guards in this room, and throughout the citadel, all ready to draw their swords at a moment's notice. Even if she sent everyone out of the war room--and she would have to, to have an honest talk with Gregoriath--he wouldn't dare do anything to her here.

"Thank you," she said. The words came out too low, and hoarse. She cleared her throat, focused on the paperwork in front of her, letting the steady lines of supply lists ground her. "Please bring him in."

"You sure?"

Sparrow glanced up at Anevia, surprised at the wary tone in her voice. What had Gregoriath done already since entering the boundaries of Drezen? What had Sparrow already given away under Anevia's keen gaze? Maybe it would be best to not confront Gregoriath at all. To hide, as she did best, and try to disappear until the threat passed.

But this threat wasn't going to go away--the sword had hung over her head for two years and was finally coming down. She had to face it. I am the Knight Commander of the Fifth Crusade. Sparrow relaxed her tight fists and straightened her shoulders. I am the Knight Commander. Even if the title was just for show, even if it was just for now, she led the armies of Mendev and she was beyond Gregoriath's reach. "I'm sure. Thank you."

Anevia nodded and gestured to the guards; one of them opened the door to notify the hall guard to retrieve the visitor. Sparrow counted fifty-seven seconds before Lord Gregoriath Arvanxi walked into the war room. He did not look at Captain Tirabade at Sparrow's right hand, or at Anevia leaning against the wall. His attention was completely on Sparrow.

Lord Gregoriath looked much the same as when Sparrow last saw him--broad shouldered and bull-chested, with a scowl mostly hidden by his short, meticulously oiled beard. There was more gray, perhaps, Sparrow noted with the distant craze of someone preoccupied with the view as they plummeted off a cliff.

She kept her legs rigid against the old instinctive move to rise in his presence. She would stay seated behind the table the entire time, she promised herself. She would not move, no matter what he did, and when this was done she would have the guards escort him out. They could do that. He couldn't fight it, or reach over the table, or get any closer to her--

"Eva." His voice was level, and at a normal volume. He was not surprised to see her. His hands remained clasped behind his back; he remained standing. Sparrow waited for him to make some kind of action. When he didn't, she finally nodded.

"Father. Welcome to Drezen."

That caused a reaction--she'd seen his jaw harden under his beard enough times to recognize the movement.

Sparrow tilted her head to the side without breaking eye contact. "Captain. Anevia. If you would please, take the guards with you when you go. We will need privacy."

Sparrow saw bare movement in her periphery; Anevia holding back an argument, a refusal, and a shared glance between the two Tirabades. Sparrow had started making choices they disagreed with often enough to know what their silent disapproval looked like. But all the captain said was, "Of course, Commander."

Only when they were gone did Gregoriath speak again. "You do not truly believe this room is secure, do you?"

"It is secure," Sparrow said. He will not act here. He cannot. She had to keep reminding herself of the fact. "You may trust me on this and speak, or do not, and leave without imparting your message. That is your choice to make."

A tic appeared in Gregoriath's jaw, jumping the hairs of his beard. Sparrow folded her hands, swallowed back instinctive apologies, and waited.

Finally, he let out a long, slow breath through his nose. "Where is she?"

"Gone. Disappeared en route to Mendev."

"En route--" The words echoed with sudden volume and Gregoriath bit off the rest of his sentence. Sparrow did not flinch. She waited, frozen, for six seconds while he visibly gathered himself. When he next spoke, it was barely audible. "Two years."

"Two years," Sparrow agreed. She took a steadying breath, willing her heart to slow. She needed to be ice; Gregoriath always reacted to fear, and while sometimes cowering would satisfy him, often as not it made him worse, more contemptuous, more furious. She could not afford for him to lose his temper. "If there was a trail, it has long grown cold."

"You..." Gregoriath lifted his chin, the tic in his jaw so prominent it made his face shake.

Sparrow could not see his hands. They were still behind his back. She wondered if they have curled into fists yet, if he was fighting the urge to pick up something and throw it at Sparrow the same way Sparrow was resisting the urge lower her gaze.

It was rare for Gregoriath to have to hold back his anger when he dealt with a disappointing slave, but he still had other tactics. His voice softened into cutting disappointment. "Of all the betrayals, I will admit I did not expect this from you, Eva. I thought you had understood the importance of her safety, if nothing else. And yet you allowed this to happen."

Sparrow let the words roll over her and didn't move.

Gregoriath continued, taking a single step forward, attention fixed solely on Sparrow's response. "All the things we gave you. An education, safety, food, a home. And you thought you could just let her be kidnapped by brigands, or murdered on the road--"

"She ran away." Sparrow closed her eyes. Her throat was tight, almost as tight as the grip she had on her hands. Holding on to something, even if it was just herself. "As far as I am aware, she is safe."

"But the trail is cold. You don't know."

The trail is cold. She didn't know.

"And what, I wonder, will your compatriots say should I bring my disappointments with you to their attention? They believe a noblewoman is leading their holy war. Do you think they will defend you when I exercise my rights? They will not."

Sparrow breathed through the words, focusing on the pieces of Gregoriath in front of her--the gray hairs of his beard, his dark, furious eyes, the way his jacket still stretched across his shoulders as he kept his fists locked behind him. She wants, badly, to lick her dry lips. She knows it will be a tell that Gregoriath will latch on to.

"I hardly think it's necessary to consider that route. I am here," she finally says. "I may be a disappointment to you, but Lady Evaethi Arvanxi is the leader of the Fifth Crusade. News of this has spread to Cheliax?"

Gregoriath's eyes narrowed. He knew what she was saying. "The queen is not displeased," he finally said. He lived in eternal fear of House Thrune and the mercurial nature of Queen Abrogail--though his cousin and family head had ensured House Arvanxi was no more and no less than a laughingstock among Egorian's elite, he was convinced that one day the tides would turn against them and they would be branded enemies of the crown. Even after twelve years serving the house, Sparrow had no idea how much of Gregoriath's concerns were paranoia and how much came from the shaky ground that Cheliax had built castles on.

"I am sure the knowledge of my new position has been helpful to you. The status of your daughter now may be useful as long as you allow it. Of course, the disappointments I have laid at the family's feet would be less pleasant news for the queen to hear, I'm sure. Perhaps it would be more advantageous to just...let things lie. Let Evaethi Arvanxi continue her role as Knight Commander."

Sparrow tensed at the mounting pressure in the room at her words, Gregoriath's volcanic temper building. He had never been much for manipulation and hated when it was enacted against him; he hated even more when the person offering the ultimatums was inherently beneath him. Sparrow had never spoken to him so before in her life. Her hands hurt, her fingers white in her grip.

Gregoriath had two options: expose Sparrow as a fraud and drag her back to Cheliax, to the possible objections of the Queen of Mendev and the derision of the Chelish Court, as well as the profound displeasure of its queen and house. Or, let the falsehood continue, acknowledge Sparrow as his daughter, and use the prestige of her new position to his advantage. One would be the clear choice, infinitely preferable to him if it did not also secure Sparrow's safety as long as the Crusade existed.

But, in the end, it won out regardless. Gregoriath's paranoia and need for security had always superseded his pride. They were alike in that way. Still, Sparrow fought to keep her shoulders stiff, to not relax or slump, as Gregoriath finally pinned her with a glare of true contempt and stated, "That does seem to be the only reasonable option at this time."

Sparrow had three goals, in this room with the table and her title between them. With that sentence, two were achieved: Gregoriath would not kill her yet for her ruse, nor would he drag her back to Cheliax in chains and expose her to the armies of the Crusade. Now, she only had to gain the third goal--and there was a slight, possible glimmer of something in the future that wasn't terror and entrapment. There was a chance of freedom.

"It would be beneficial if other...indicators...of my past were not present." Sparrow could not gesture to the back of her neck--if she let go of herself she would probably fly apart--but her meaning was clear. Gregoriath's lip curled.

"So you can disappear the moment someone's back is turned? I think not."

"I can hardly go anywhere with my current responsibilities," Sparrow said, fighting to keep her voice even. She only barely succeeded.

"If you cared for responsibility, you would not be leading this Crusade to begin with. You have already failed in your duties once--and I remember the last time I let you off a leash."

The spike of white-hot anger that coursed through Sparrow's body loosened her tongue to a dangerous degree. "And what would my advisors, my soldiers think of you once they realize you've branded your 'daughter' like cattle?" Her voice was too hard, too angry, but for an instant after she said it, she didn't care. Then, of course, she did, because she gave away important ground with that flash of emotion, and they both knew it.

Gregoriath could rant and rave and explode as much as he wanted to, at any time, but Sparrow knew from bitter experience that the moment she let any emotion slip, she lost.

Gregoriath's gaze was cool, the most composed he'd been since he entered the room now that he finally had the upper hand. "Then I would expose you as what you are, and when these people reject you I would return to Cheliax with you as I had originally planned. Of course, I would hope you would take care to avoid revealing such things to begin with."

He would not remove the brand. And Sparrow could not use it to shame him now that he had agreed to play along with the ruse of Sparrow being Evaethi, because if she did he would just tell the truth, even though that would make things infinitely worse for him.

Sparrow's knuckles bled white down the backs of her hands. "Then we are at an impasse."

Gregoriath nodded. "I will be remaining, of course. I would hate for you to continue to endure the burdens of leadership on your own."

The effect Gregoriath's words had on Sparrow was immediate and visceral. There was no thought, not even feeling, there was only the response, bursting out of her. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"Your presence is not needed," Sparrow got out through stiff lips. The thought of Gregoriath here, watching her every move, the presence of her tracking brand a physical weight--making comments at council meetings, using her to further his own political ends as he no doubt planned to do--the way he would speak to her, like this, in private, never letting her forget for one instant that she was not free, would never be free-- "No. You will return to Cheliax. Or wherever else you choose. But you will not stay in Drezen."

"You dare--"

"If you are unwilling to remove the tracking rune you have placed on me, then there is hardly a need for you to observe my movements." The fear of him being here forever outweighed the fear of his presence at that moment, and the fact that Sparrow's words actually cut through and silenced Gregoriath left her lightheaded. She couldn't remember the last time her words had actually managed to silence someone. "Your presence would be a hindrance and could lead to discovery. I have done my duty to the Crusade before now and will continue to do so. Unless you did wish to remove my rune? Then perhaps your continued observations would be necessary, but I cannot fathom another reason why you would want to interfere further otherwise. Certainly, Mendev's council might not appreciate excessive oversight from Cheliax, regardless of Knight Commander Evaethi's background."

For sixty-three long, frozen seconds, Gregoriath stared at Sparrow in silence. Then, finally, in a quiet voice on the cusp of violence, he said, "You will report to me regularly on your status. I will be watching you, make no mistake. And when this country has no more need of you, you will return to Cheliax and we will discuss your failures, and your insolence, at that time."

Sparrow said nothing. After another moment, Gregoriath turned and left the war room. She did not even need to get soldiers to escort him out.

Sparrow counted sixty seconds, then another, enough time for Gregoriath to leave the hall. Then, she rose, nearly running into Anevia coming back into the war room.

"You okay there, Commander?"

Sparrow did not know what Anevia's expression was, what was behind the question, because Sparrow could not see. "I am fine. Please excuse me." She nearly knocked into another person, she didn't know who, on her way down the hall to her room.

She made sure the door was closed behind her before she grabbed a pot, gave in to the roiling of her stomach, and vomited until there was nothing left but acid burning her throat and her too-tight skin.

[dragonologist-phd]

All These Games We Play

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anevia/Irabeth Tirabade Characters: Anevia (Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous), Irabeth Tirabade Additional Tags: Roleplay, Teasing, Oral Sex, Strap-Ons, Romance, Femslash February 2024

"I steal somethin', she catches me- it just adds spice to our relationship."

My last piece for Femslash Feb! Ngl, this one was almost wholly inspired by this line in the Inevitable Ezcess DLC:

Anevia couldn’t say for sure where the idea first came from. Maybe it had always been there in the back of her mind; maybe watching Irabeth climb up through the ranks of her order had stirred it up anew. All she knew for sure was that it’d been rattling around in her head for a good while, and it was just a matter of time before she finally brought it up.

She did so on one of their rare lazy evenings, when she and her wife were comfortable in bed. Irabeth was sitting against the headboard, reading through a few reports (honestly, the woman never stopped), and Anevia was watching her as the daydreams quietly played out in her head.

“You ever think about where we’d be in another life?” she asked at last, and Irabeth looked up in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Anevia chewed at her lip, trying to think of how best to start this off. “It’s kind of a wonder I ended up a soldier, isn’t it? I could’ve easily landed on the other side of the law.”

Irabeth tilted her head, still looking confused. “You think there’s a world out there where we’re outlaws?”

“I’m the outlaw,” Anevia clarified with a laugh. She reached over and plucked the reports from Irabeth’s hands, waving them tauntingly before setting them to the side. “I’ve got the sticky fingers, the roguish charm. But you’re a paladin in every life, Beth, there’s no denying that.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just that somewhere out in the universe, there may be a world where you’re still Captain Irabeth Tirabade of the Eagle Watch…and I’m one of the Captain’s most wanted.” Anevia moved as she spoke, pushing the bedsheets aside so she could straddle her wife’s lap.

Understanding was starting to dawn on Irabeth’s face now. “I see…you think in this version of the world, I chase you down and bring you in. Is that it?”

Anevia grinned and leaned in closer. “I think you try.”

Interest sparked in Irabeth’s eyes at that, and Anevia’s hopes leapt at that response. She edged closer, her lips teasing at Irabeth’s with the faint promise of a kiss- and then she pulled back. The conversation was going just as she hoped; she wanted now to see how far she could take it.

“Beth…do you wanna try something with me tonight?”

continue on ao3

[silversiren1101]

"The Practical and Wartime Applicable Benefits of Holding Hands"! Is this a dissertation written by Regill? 😀

So I had completely forgotten, this is my old MASTER file of every random snippet and drabble that came to mind! It is so long and has so many different ideas in it, oh my god. And much of it is outdated in terms of lore!! I see I still have the plot of Mino leaving Egorian because she loves him rather than leaving because of the Thrune overplot, and her being murdered by her paralictor for being so good at her job she was coming for his title!

This is 30 full pages of various starts and random moments. Wow.

The title I picked because it was funny to me, and I still think it is! It was in relation to where Regill holds her hand when he pulls the shield shrapnel from her side after being attacked by what is now the woundwound but was just a balor originally.

I'm going to provide a snippet of something I had totally forgotten I'd written and still kind of slaps: This is the moment where Mino is forced to kill Camellia in self-defense, and Anevia is unable to get her to respond or move as she shuts down in the horror of what she'd been forced to do (and is wounded from a rapier stuck to her gut).

“Can you not see that I am in the middle of something?” His tone bites like iron. He usually reserves cordially politeness, cool and impassive, in spades, but this time Regill Derenge feels the courtesy unnecessary. He is, indeed, in the middle of something, hooked hammer in his hands, oversized (even for a race of average size) training dummy to his side. A rather dexterous application of force, using his admittedly unusual weapon as a lever, to handily remove the smaller arms off the dummy, standing in as counterparts for those of a glabrezu, had impressed the onlookers he was demonstrating the technique for— a group of some of the more promising armigers among his subordinates. The ones that could very well live long enough against such a demon to actually put the knowledge to use.

The crusader scout looks shakily to the ground and snaps another salute, forgetting, in his obvious nervousness, that he had already paid diligence to the Paralictor’s rank. “Sir, yes… it’s…”

“Out with it.” The young man, clearly not more than some twenty summers, jumps at the order. He goes to say something, whatever message his superior sent him along with, most likely Anevia Tirabade, but quickly bites his lips shut. Nervous eyes look around at present company.

Regill’s own eyes narrow, those owl-like yellow irises turning to knife-slits as he looks over the quivering scout and realizes several things at once. One, that this message is something meant only for his ears alone; two, such clandestine messages are usually passed along by Anevia as coded letters matched to the recipient’s cipher; and three, the combination of the lack of a letter, indicating a lack of time, and it not being Anevia herself coming to him, indicating she personally is in the midst of it, means that something both immediately pressing and most likely alarming severe has occurred.

Which very well put Regill at an impasse. He could force the scout to deliver the intended message, in the way only a veteran Hellknight of his experience can as a reminder of the discipline and resolve needed to keep this pitiful excuse for a crusade running as it should. Doing so, however, could also jeopardize whatever situation has occurred to warrant his immediate summons.

“It’s…” the scout swallows, nervously, and the haunted expression in his eyes allows a new feeling to creep in besides annoyance. A cool anxiety tells him already that something has happened regarding the Commander, something that Anevia felt that only he could help with. 

“Anevia has requested your immediate presence regarding…ah… the uh… she… she and the Commander need your assistance. Immediately.”

His hammer gracefully makes a full arc as he swings it up into the holster at his back, the familiar weight of comfortable as it settles. A single sign to the group of armigers elicits from each a coordinated salute as he turns to face them. “This lesson will resume another day. In the meantime I encourage you to find copies of Garvhost’s treatise on slaying demons. I will demonstrate in action some of the more valuable techniques in those pages at a future date. Until then, you are dismissed.” 

It’s not until he turns away, full attention devoted to the pitiable scout, that the armigers break rank and move to fulfill their individual duties, cleaning the quadrant of the training yard he had sequestered away for what should have been an entire afternoon. Instead of more ire however, the Paralictor gives him a sharp nod and bids he lead the way post-haste.

The scout sets a quick pace, mannerisms looking like he wants to break into a dead sprint or, at the least, a brisk jog, but the way his head swivels about, eyes looking most everywhere but forward, tells Regill both that they are to keep a low profile to avoid alarm, and also that they would be heading through Drezen proper, rather than into the main keep as he has assumed. A great many questions flit through his head as he follows, careful to keep an indifferent expression on his features despite the worry gnawing within. Something has happened regarding Commander Arangier, something that he happens to be the best choice for in assisting with. Was it something regarding their shared history? He did know her better than anyone else in this crusade, the only person he has ever once graced with the title of ‘friend’. Regardless, it certainly isn’t something requiring solely a gentle touch or comforting words, otherwise it would be the lackadaisical paladin, Seelah, or the Shelynite, master at flowery words and little action as he was, being led at such an awkward pace through Drezen’s streets. 

[juggling-responsibilities]

Act 1, Part 2 - Neath Dark Borders

Prologue segments in video games inspired by and adapted from tabletop games are rough. You have yourself in what appears to be a normal celebration, then bad things happen. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the trope - I'm just pointing out that if you ever get isekai'd into a medieval fantasy world that's about to have a harvest festival, run.

Where were we? Ah, yes. We've fallen and we cannot get back up.

Let's Recap:

Deskari, the Lord of Locusts and the prime asshole that attacked during the Day of the City in Kenabres, sundered the market square after almost effortlessly murdering the silver dragon Terendelev that defended it. He did this because I used a random if distinctively voiced guard's crossbow to shoot him in the shoulder with a Perfectly Normal Crossbow Bolt, which appeared to actively hurt him and brought his attention directly onto me. I am certain this will not come up later.

That brings us to the cave system we now find ourselves in. Gorgeously lit by phosphorescent crystals and bioluminescent flora, the caves are also littered by the bodies of the fallen, sections of cobblestone and brick from the streets and buildings that fell, and the skittering of cave creatures, likely disturbed by the ruckus and defensive of their warrens.

I also still do not have my confiscated armor and weapons, whatever they may have been. But my leopard, Maple, is here - I think I'll be okay as long as she's around.

That's part of the character background I put together, by the way. I am a circus performer, as I've mentioned - an axe thrower to be specific, although I am now currently without any of my axes. This crossbow is nice but not ideal. But for whatever reason, I have a circus leopard with me. Maybe I rescued her. (Maybe she rescued me.)

It doesn't take me long before I stumble upon another pair of survivors. One of them, a young woman in a sheer mountain of armor, calls my attention over to assist the other, a woman trapped under some rubble.

It is in fact two of the people we saw up above, which is reasonable because we were all in the same place when the demons attacked.

(I'm not going to explain all the tabletop mechanics, since chances are if you're reading this, you already know what the game is.)

Hilariously enough, when I was building Quintessa, I didn't put any points into either of these skills that would help, and I'm not going for an evil playthrough even though I did put points into Diplomacy. That said, 12 might be hard to get on a straight untrained roll, but not impossible, so I rolled the dice (har) and gave Athletics a shot.

Thankfully, my circus training helped in this endeavor, and between the two of us, Seelah and I managed to get the rubble off the other woman.

(Because this is still technically tutorial mode, even if you fail the checks, Seelah is able to handle it on her own. It won't be until later that failed skill checks have more of an impact on what happens.)

Newly rescued but still massively injured from the fall and from having her leg crushed by half a building, the woman introduces herself as Anevia Tirabade, a member of the Eagle Watch and part of the festival security. She states that she was actually trying to keep an eye on potential demonic worshippers, and while she doesn't explicitly say so right now, she's basically Spymaster General.

Meanwhile, Seelah is a paladin of Iomedae - the same god that Deskari was railing against - and is in town specifically to join the fight against the demons and the Worldwound. Good news, Seelah! You found some.

And with that, we have our first party member.

Anevia also technically joins the party, but she's not controllable, so I'm not counting her. She does follow along and shoot things with her bow, though, which for someone with a broken leg is pretty good.

Anevia's good people. I like her a lot.

🕵️‍♀️: "Yeah, things are lookin' grim enough, but don't lose heart. Wardstone or no, dragon or no, Kenabres will never give in - simple as. Well, we've introduced ourselves, what about you? 🪓: "I'm a traveler, and I just wound up here by chance." 🕵️‍♀️: "Call me superstitious if you want, or maybe cynical, but I just don't believe in chance or coincidences." 🛡: "How many stories 'round the tavern table have started with those very words..." 🕵️‍♀️: "Right enough. I have this habit, see: any time somebody starts yakking about blind chance, it always turns out that the thing was as far from a quirk of fate as you could want. Sorry, don't take it personal, like. Now then, I'll hobble my way outta here somehow. The city ain't far, only thirty paces or so... that's if you're going straight up, of course. I'm afraid we're gonna have to go the long way 'round." 🛡: "To summarize: there are three of us, with five working legs, three pairs of decent hands, two clear heads and one made of wood - that's mine."

And with that, we're off to try to find a way back topside.

I kind of want to take a moment and focus on that last conversation, though, because I feel like it perfectly encapsulates who they are, or at least who we're supposed to think of them as. Narrative structure states that any introduction to a character should give us everything we need to know about them in their first appearance, with everything after that either reinforcing or subverting this conception as necessary. It's not exclusive to this game by any stretch - it's a very fundamental concept and is probably one of the first taught in any creative writing class. But it's more the execution that matters, because as basic of a concept as it is, it's also very easy to fuck up if you don't know what you're doing.

Anevia was introduced to us earlier in the day, asking questions while being friendly. Here, she's still being friendly, but letting us know a bit more directly that she's keeping an eye on us.

Seelah, on the other hand, is bold, boisterous, and self-effacing - personality traits that don't usually go together for anyone who isn't Vash the Stampede. She puts herself down while also pushing the image of herself as pretty darn great, and just like the Humanoid Typhoon it's a fantastic way to deflect attention, to let you focus on the image she projects so that you don't poke too closely.

It's interesting how this is something that both she and Anevia are doing, but from two completely different angles. The fact that they put these two characters together is just absolutely exquisite, in my opinion.

Some ransacking of a weapons cache that fell down occurs - Seelah says it's Prelate Hulrun's confiscated weapons but I don't see my throwing axes in there so I bet he kept the good shit for himself - and we also find some glowing silver scales - some physical remains of Terendelev. I take them - they are an on-use consumable to revive fallen companions, but I've got the "Dead companions rise after combat is over" option selected from the game settings and thus I will not be using them. Instead, I will keep them as a sad reminder of a silver dragon who I did not get to know very well.

Of course, there's no time for quiet reflection - we have to get back up to the city. So, as always, we press on.

It doesn't take us long until we find another person - a woman, hunched over something else in the dark. She is dressed like a noble, but she's covered in blood and dirt. Understandable, of course - she fell the same way we did. The body at her feet, however...

🩸: "I don't know. He must have been in the square when disaster struck. I tried to revive him, but he was already dead, sadly." 🛡: "He didn't get these wounds from the fall... Be on your guard. Whatever killed him likely hasn't gone far."

This is Camellia. She probably didn't stab that guy. And since she's joining our party...

I've got a good feeling about her.

But yeah, that guy? Unfortunately, that's Aravashnial. The guy who apparently is a questgiver in the original tabletop Adventure Path. Camellia, who is an original character to this adaptation, was properly introduced standing over his corpse, which is definitely not as notable for people who didn't play the Adventure Path but for those who do know: This is the tone we're setting for the game. We are off the fucking rails from word one.

And honestly? Best way to do it. And since I am one of those people who didn't know that, I get to experience this completely fresh.

With that, we are on our way.

[comrade-cabbage]

Hey!! ✨ Here's some questions for the Video Game Asks: 8: A series you haven’t played but are interested in trying 12: A character you particularly like in the game you’re currently playing 24: A game with a cool art style

8. honestly I've never ever touched a final fantasy game and ive always wanted to try a few out! if i had to pick one, id wanna start with 6, which apparently comes out on the switch soon??? might be the perfect time for picking up the games...

12. i'm currently playing through Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous again and really love the lesbain couple in it: Irabeth and Anevia Tirabade! Irabeth is a half-orc paladin with a crisis of conviction and Anevia is (spoilers) a trans woman rogue who stole the heart of Irabeth and theyre the cutest couple ever. the first thing you see them do together is hug and call each other nicknames 💖

24. Astrea: Six-Sided Oracles is the game that most recently wow-ed me with its artstyle, despite only playing the demo im very excited for it! honorable mentions include: Stardew Valley, Transistor, and Potionomics!

the prompt 🌷