#pwtor pals

[yunessa]

Daeran and Ember taking. Their dialogues are always nice. You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @greyallison for their wonderful art! She’s a delight to commission and I can’t wait to do it again. Check out her kofi.

[yunessa]

If you think one bard is trouble then watch out for these two- they'll make it double!

Yunessa and @dujour13 's Siavesh drinking and commiserating over shared experiences.

You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @greyallison for their wonderful art! She’s a delight to commission and I can’t wait to do it again. Check out her kofi.

[yunessa]

"You don't have to say you love me."

A fake romance novel cover inspired by Silversiren's lovely art and this article on Johana Lindsay and romance novel covers of the 90's. You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @greyallison for their wonderful art! She’s a delight to commission and I can’t wait to do it again. Check out her kofi.

[yunessa]

Yunessa, Elven Bard and Chaotic Neutral disaster wearing their travel gear.

You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @weatherbane for their amazing art! I can’t recommend them enough. They're open for commissions until the end of may! Go and commission them!

[yunessa]

Sosiel and Trever Vaenic having a rare moment where they can rest alone by the fire.

You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @greyallison for their wonderful art! She's a delight to commission and I can't wait to do it again. Check out her kofi for her slots.

[yunessa]

The moment when your two Sarkorian companions try to explain the Sarkorian version of 'bless your heart'.

You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @greyallison for their wonderful art! She’s a delight to commission and I can’t wait to do it again. Check out her kofi.

[yunessa]

Arushalae, Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous

I always feel like Aru has had a phase where she experiments a lot. Like with her hair, nails, jewelry and on so as she tries to discover herself and how she wants to be. So I've had an idea of her with heri hair long, done differently and had to commision Milk to draw it for me!

You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @molochka-koshka for their amazing art! I can’t recommend them enough. They were excellent to work with and I can't recommend you commission them enough!

[yunessa]

Every Azata Commander seeing this Melies scene in the Dance of Masks.

[yunessa]

Art by xiphos and Olivialeeillistrates

Name: Yunessa

Gender: Nonbinary (They/them)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Desnan Elven Bard

The perks: Friendly, charming, loyal until the end, willing to do anything for their friends, excellent bard

The downsides: Cursed and needs a priest roughly every week or week and a half-ish or they could forget you completely as they spiral into insanity, impulsive, holds a grudge.

Will eat all the candy left lying about

Does not care if you take the good pillows in bed

[yunessa]

The bard strums their lyre, the melody haunted Their fingers dance along the strings, feeling their loss A tale of loss and sorrow in the Bad Luck Tavern, sings in the night The box lyre weeps with them, in the pale moonlight

Every note a tear, every chord a sigh The bard's voice quivers, as they sing of memories lost

The box lyre moans as the bard's heart bleeds Their song of lament, of fellows sitting with them discussing their crusades A tale that no one at the Tavern heeds Strumming for the memories lost, singing for what's gone The bard and their box lyre, forever withdrawn

In the empty tavern, once filled with comranders the lanterns flicker low, faces forgotten, words lost The bard's mournful melody, a haunting echo The box lyre vibrates, with each heartfelt strum The bard's somber tune sung to the spirits that come

In the silence of the night, all alone the bard bears their soul Through the box lyre's strings, their emotions unfold

The box lyre moans, the bard's heart bleeds Their song of lament, a tale that no one heeds Strumming for the lost, singing for the gone The bard and their memories with their fellows forever gone

The box lyre weeps, the bard's tears fall Their melody of grief, captivating all The souls of the departed, drawn near As the bard's mournful song whispers in their ears

The box lyre moans, the bard's heart bleeds Their song of lament, a tale that no one heeds Strumming for the memories forever lost, singing for the fellows forever gone The bard and their box lyre, forever withdrawn

In the hush of the night, the bard's melody fades The box lyre's strings still echo the serenades A story of sorrow, performed with grace The bard rises, taking their box lyre, leaving without a trace.

[yunessa]

No regrets

[yunessa]

To say that Mendev was defined by its conflict with the Worldwound is accurate, but a simple explanation. Look at the countries that surrounded it. Each one eyeing their border as the Worldwound expanded. Calling it a disease or a cancer would be accurate- after extensive conversations with my companions, I can say that it’s one of the greatest threats to life on Golarion today.

Not a threat to Chelix, for example, not today or even next year. But the expansion of the worldwound is only slowed by the numerous lives that come to fight it and until this crusade started, the Ward stones that lined its border. What happens when the lives of the brave, the adventurous and the expendable start to slow down? If there was no crusade and the Ward stones failed- or were corrupted to increase the speed of the Worldwound’s growth?

Then Cheliax might very well be squinting at it’s borders next year as demons lurk on the horizon. But you could say that for any nation that is not currently bordering the Worldwound.

Every nation occupied by civilised minds hates the Worldwound. For it tries to grow, constantly pushing its boundaries. It cares little for what country it borders, only that it grows.

According to Daeran and Nurah- both knowledgable about the world stage-, Numeria and Ustalav are not actively battling the Worldwound. The realm of the Mammoth Lords fights, but to what extent I have no idea. I assume they do 

So it is Mendev who is the Worldwound’s most vehement opponent.  But if I am to retake the hold of Drezen I will need to look outward for support. Mendev has very little to its name after a century of war. Much of its support comes from the rest of the world.

People without knowledge of economics and the worldwound might not believe it, but a century of war does not leave you with much of anything to your name. Support comes from lands as far away as Cheliax and Andoran, to name two of the bigger ones. Nobody wants to be the nation with the Worldwound on their doorstep with citizens that only know of the war that has been going on since their grandparents were alive.

If I am to retake Drezen then I must handle more than just politics among the crusaders. Even now I have soldiers from Andoran, three elves from Kyonin, a tiefling that claims to have travelled from far-away Kelesh to fight the Worldwound. I have had Seelah go about the camp- she’s friendly, cheerful, and people love to speak with her- to find out other places I could reach out for aide.  We have a list already, but Seelah is good at talking to people. Adding in Woljif's connections and I'm sure we can get a good network.

How supplies will get here is another matter. Daeran tried to explain to me, but I’ve never seen such math before in my life, ‘nor have I seen it applied to wagons, teleportation, or the specifics needed for a teleportation network. How he understands this maths is beyond me. I’ve never applied such numbers and lines to my magic.

Daeran tried to explain imaginary numbers to me as he showed me the supply plans. I’m certain he was actively attempting to torment me rather than alleviate my disbelief. Numbers can’t be imaginary can they? If numbers were imaginary then how would anything get done? I found a new thing to fear.

I have written this all down in a list of things I should not forget. The many potential supplies, tasks, and other things now make a list fifty pages long- and as of right now still growing as  I spend my evening time speaking to my quartermaster. I suspect once we retake Drezen, even Horgus Gwerm and Wilcer Garms will have headaches managing everything that will be needed.

-Yunessa

[yunessa]

I feel sometimes my friend, as if I have done this a hundred times. There is a horror to the curse I bear, yes. But there is something far worse in life. Seeing someone you care for leave this life, no matter how peacefully or bravely they go into the night. No amount of valor or honor will see that person’s eyes open or make the hand you so desperately grasp for become warm.

No, you grasp at a shell and your tears are a thousand times more sharp than the cold bite of winter. People try to comfort you- surely Pharasma will be kind they say, surely their god would welcome them- they mean well in their attempt to comfort you. But in my anguish, I only want to hurt them.I want to recoil from the comfort they think they give me with their hugs and warm hands. For the more they comfort me, the more I know that the loss of you will never fill. 

Their warm hands and  affection gives me no comfort. It hurts me worse. I feel cold, numb to their attempts and their words are starting to sound rehearsed. I can hear it in the sounds, when they stumble and correct themselves or in the wooden, brittle words they utter. I was stabbed with a heavily rusted sword once. It hurt less than hearing them speak.

They claim they hope I heal soon. They hope my wounds will heal and with time I will drink less. Perhaps they’re right that with time the wound of the loss will scab. In its place will be a hollow left behind that cannot be filled by another. Time does not heal all wounds. Sometimes it merely dulls the pain briefly.

We all mourn. But what I have lost is one of the reasons life was worth living and in this crusade has made me realise how much I have truly lost. For myself and for those times I look out the window to see the graveyard at the walls of Drezen.

You see the best of those crusaders and people here, how hard they fight, how bitterly they push. For a better tomorrow, for green fields, and to see the amber wheat of their farms. For their families and what matters. So that there even can be a tomorrow lives must be shed. Someday, they say, my friend, that Sarkoris will be green and Mendev will know peace.Someday, they whisper the words like a prayer. Because hope keeps them here, when everything outside of Drezen’s walls wants them dead or worse.

I have trouble imagining that possibly peaceful future now. Each loss in this Crusade scars me a little more. I have seen the best men march to their deaths to buy mere seconds for others. I have seen weak men give up in the face of reality. I have seen heroes break under their trauma. I have seen people who I never guessed had any strength at all become heroes more worthy of song than any other. I have seen the good and bravery of those here as much as I have seen the darkness and horror that lingers in the worldwound.

And I have realised that I cannot leave this place.

 Idyllic dreams, a better future- what is any of those things when you are not with me? Even if the Crusade was won tomorrow with not another life lost and Sarkoris turned green and lush overnight, it means nothing. You are not there to see it so the victory is hollow. None of it will matter without you there. I could open the door for somebody and feel the same level of cheer for all that victory would matter to me now.

Perhaps when this war ends I will find another place to throw myself towards, another war perhaps or another battle, if I can bear to leave you. Perhaps I should trust myself with the amount of drinks I have had.

But I have an idea. A possibility that might make this right.

And may you forgive me, but I must try.

With that I will end this letter and leave it somewhere that it may travel to you. it is said gifts to the dead are delivered so I will leave the drink I had the first time I saw you and flowers that remind me of you. Pray for my success as I will leave Drezen in the early hours.

All my love,

Yunessa

[yunessa]

One of the phrases Priests of Desna often quote is to be free. When the other gods created the world, belowground, and the deep seas  it was Desna that created the starry night sky, knowing she would still have time to explore later. The longer we wandered the city, the more I found myself still desiring freedom- I kept recalling cool autumn winds, the sound of grass stirring and sleeping under a cloudy sky filled with colourful leaves.  It was around the second time I missed a shot with my crossbow that I realised how my little group was responding to me.My words held a weight, my suggestions were orders. It was like I’d done it before- perhaps before the memory loss I was a leader because it came to me far easier than I thought. Aranka knew the ways through back alleys and alternate routes. Her knowledge combined with Woljif saw us through the city faster than walking through the roads. In all that time the weather refused to change- it rained and rained like the sky was weeping cold tears. I gave Ember my hat to keep her drier. She laughed and skipped through the puddles. Something beyond the obvious was off about her, more than simply the crow. Watching her sing the popular children’s song for rain as she skipped over a corpse as if it were nothing or seeing her laugh gayly  at the reflection of burning fire in puddles only added further. She kept coming back to me, holding my hand and pulling me long with the group. Her eyes saw something inside of me- they pierced through me- and whatever it was she found, she seemed to be happy with it. Ember had seven fingers left. I still remember that very well. That burnt, scarred child only had seven fingers and here she was, tugging me along as if I was a slow parent, uninterested in going to the market. Daeran had a sharp tongue but he wasn’t the problem I would have expected. To the contrary he fought without complaint and his healing spells were a great help- he claimed he was rudimentary but when you are in pain there is nothing rudimentary about lessening it. Lann kept an eye on me. His eyes kept warily straying around but he also kept his tone light aside from a few stern remarks when Woljif grew irritable and the tiefling nerves began to wear. I couldn’t blame him.  What a wonderfully strange group I had found myself in. -Yunessa

[yunessa]

Hellknights. The name invokes a cruel and evil figure in black armour. Usually one that’s a paragon of everything to fear that isn’t a demon. Cruel to the point of being evil. Harsh like a beach made up of broken seashells. You don’t need to look far to see their dour nature. Some whisper of evil pacts forged with the hells, others wonder what these black armour clad knights gain from being a Hellknight.

My guess? 

I don’t care. I don’t understand their way of living. But they are all there and willing to be here in this hellhole known as the Worldwound. They aren’t concerned with the moralties of the situation at hand. Rather, they focus on discipline and are interested in the end results- no matter how they get them. 

Are some of them genuinely worth the Hellknights reputation? Most likely. I only know Regil and Regil’s subordinates thus far to determine that. Regil’s order he hails from started with the first Mendevian crusade. Perhaps that’s why he came here. Or maybe he had another reason. 

But I have a feeling about Regil. Sometimes you can feel fate as you make a choice. This choice can be as irrelevant as which path in the road you take or as difficult as the hardest choice you’ll ever make.

Regil roughly reaches my waist with purple hair slowly bleaching white and amber eyes that stand out. His voice is low, his words blunt, and to most, coarse. But within a few weeks it became easy to understand that he spoke volumes between his words if I were willing to listen.

Understanding what Regil Derenge speaks in those volumes is another matter. But knowing that he does have them does allow you to understand there’s more to hear if you’re willing.

And in Regil I can feel the wheel of fate turning. He’ll be a part of this crusade alongside me. I don’t yet know if I’ll get along with the Paralictor. But I have a feeling he’ll be important to this crusade.

Even if I ignore how helpful the Hellknights have been thus far. A lot of my crusaders aren’t fond of them. But they so far, on this march to Drezen, have kept to themselves.I’m glad. Some part of me expected trouble, but they are disciplined, strong, and they ignore the looks the less disciplined crusaders cast their way.

All things begin with a feeling don’t they? An impulsive choice I latched onto that would also help change the fate of the crusade forever. What use is a leader without a firm second who can help get stuff done? -Yunessa

[yunessa]

Daeran Arendae by Xiphos

Daeran Arendae by Xiphos, also here on @weatherbane3.

You can see my WOTR story here or check out my other WOTR art here

Check out @weatherbane for their amazing art! They do so much of my art and are wonderful to commission. I cannot recommend them enough.