#under avandra's eyes

[canyouhearthelight]

AMA Week!

To allow my chapter buffer to build back up, this week I will be doing a week long Ask Me Anything.

You can ask about me, my writing projects, stuff I collab or beta read on... Anything!!

Because this one isn’t showing up in the comments on the post, and was thankfully sent to my inbox as a back up:

Right now, I’m working my way through The Good Doctor. However, anyone who is in a Discord with me will probably groan when they see this and say “Somebody Feed Phil. She won’t shut up about it!”

[pink-writer-girl]

Remembrance of Yule

Secret Santa I did for KittchenKAT

In a small village, residents gathered around to prepare for their upcoming festivities. Joyful laughter and chattering bounced off the stone town square. They dressed street lamps with pine cones and holly as streamers made from pine needles, cranberries, and ribbons hung from post to post. And in the center of the Town stood an enormous pine tree, for handmade ornaments hung with care. Comprising different pine cones, ribbons, homemade candles, dried citrus and cranberries.

As snow fell gently, residents added their ornaments to the tree, creating a beautiful sparkle in the candle and light flames. The children were especially eager. Either their parents were helping them hang up the ornaments by picking them up or they were playing in the snow, making snowmen or having snowball fights. We're getting eager by the huge Yule log cake that the other adults brought out onto a dining table they had placed in the middle of the square.

One figure in a cloak, walking down the Town square, hiding her colorful clothes under the cloak, trying to bundle up to keep warmth. The figure turned their head slightly, which made their hood drop slightly enough to allow strands of red hair to blow in the wind. The drow woman closed her eyes and enjoyed the pleasant smells in the air.

She Couldn't help but smile fondly, gazing upon the scene, especially the children playing. It reminded her of the happy times she had with her family during Yule when she was younger. They used to play in the snow and throw snowballs at each other. Her heart filled with love, thinking of her little brothers. It overjoyed her on the day she became a big sister. Even though she had caring older brothers, they were often busy with their responsibilities, giving her little attention.

Kiera Theen's family always stayed together during the holidays. Her mother would weave sweaters to keep them warm while her brothers brought in firewood for dinner. The father would bring in the packages of presents wrapped in brown paper tied with thread and with pine cones for decoration. Her mother would complain that he had bought too many, but she had always been daddy’s girl that he would love to spoil.

She missed her mother's roasted chestnuts and making ornaments with her mother and little brothers to hang on the tree they had in the center of their tribe. She longed for times like these... for someone had taken everything away from her. Before she had to go on the run for her life.

Could no longer work at the festivities. She twisted away, shielding her tears.

“Oh miss, are you new in town?” A kind old voice said, making her look to see an old bearded man.

“Not from these parts, are you?” He asked.

“Passing through…” she replied softly but curtly.

“We're doing a celebration for Yule,” he said, gesturing to the Townsfolk.

With a gentle smile, he reassured her that many travelers were welcome.

Kiera theen brought up her hand at this “no no it's not that, it's just-I don't stay at places to… safer for everyone that way,” she replied with a sad smile.

“I better go now, enjoy your holiday,” she said as she disappeared down the town and away from the square.

Praying to Avandra silently to protect her on this journey she would once again take upon by herself.

-Fin

[aquadestinyswriting]

I’ve loved the tags you leave on Under Avandra’s eyes every week. Just a heads up, all my master posts are found in the pinned post on my blog.

Thank you :). Ah that's fantastic to hear. I tend to be very wishy-washy in the brain first thing in the morning so I obviously wasn't thinking to check when I saw the post 😅.

[allexandrianrejects]

Myrrh Hexum

Gender: cis man

Age: 25 during Campaign 3

Sexuality: pansexual

Race: half-elf (Eladrian and Shadar Kai heritage)

Alignment: chaotic good, but in a morally grey way

Class: Oath of Vengance paladin and divination wizard

FC: Curtis RX

Bio under cut

A Spring Eladrian half-elf fell in love with a Shadar Kai half-elf. The two could not have been more different, and yet their love was true. They married and before long, the Shadar Kai was pregnant. From their union came two children, pale and dark-haired like Shadar Kai, and yet with the ethereal glow of Eladrians. Both children were given names from mysticism and nature combined, the boy named Myrrh, while the girl was named Minthe.

It was unfortunate that the couple were killed shortly into their children’s second year, as they were once adventurers and look one last outing before retiring for good. Unluckily, that was the outing that did them in. With no close family due to the rather strange limbo of being half-elves, their wishes had been that the children go to a benefactor of theirs, who would know where they would be safe. Jiana Hexum, upon seeing the twins, grew too attached to have anyone else taking them. She decided as far as Jrusar knew, they were her nephew and niece, wards living in her house as family, and they should be treated with the dignity of the Hexum family.

Myrrh was always more a doer than his sister, more inclined to quick action than her preference to watch. It was that energy as a child that had Ms. Hexum searching for a way to occupy his idle hands. Taking pride in her own high elven background, the physical activity she prepared for the boy was archery, taught by a wood elf so his technique would be perfect. This started young but only grew stronger the more he practiced, making him quite a sharpshooter at only a teenager. Still, something still nagged him, on a more personal level that his aunt didn’t seem to understand fully. Minthe taught him done from her books to help, but he found himself l slightly more drawn to divination than his sister’s love of necromancy… of course, that didn’t mean he shunned it, instead he grew strong in that knowledge as well, occupied by the spell of speaking to the dead, gaining their wisdom.

He was just a boy when their guardian woke them up, asking for help with intruders. Intruders whose intent was unknown. She needed help from someone who could fight them off. So, Myrrh got up from his bed, got his bow, and went out to see people ransacking the house, a glint of metal. His aunt screamed do something, and he notched an arrow in his bow. Two of the intruders fell at his hand, one with an arrow to the heart, one with an arrow to the throat. As two more were wasted and a fifth tumbled out a window, the lights of the room brightened. …the robbers were only teenagers themselves.

Such ends for children of the street weren’t uncommon. So many were wrongfully killed for being where someone thought they weren’t supposed to be, he learned, as more of the elite, possible members of the Chandei Quorum, told Jiana she did the right thing. And yet guilt welled inside Myrrh like bile for the deaths he caused, especially as his aunt now kept Ashton, the survivor, in her debt. They didn’t know what happened to their friends, and he couldn’t stand to look them in the eye, knowing he was responsible.

It was in that time of disillusionment that he felt drawn to a small temple… Avandra, the Changebringer’s temple. He read of her commandments on the wall, taking in the fact that her followers were told so strongly to fight against tyranny. A few soft prayers for forgiveness became more fervent. What do I do? How can I fix this? Why are they still in charge when people are dying? Why had no one burnt their world to the ground? And even a chaotic good deity saw in such rage and morally grey words were a genuine want to help the innocent. If this was how he expressed helping others outside the law… well, she’d have to accept him. He meant well. And so, she imbued him with her power, her love, her luck. His anger fueled him to be an Oath of Vengeance paladin… one of Avandra’s most loyal. And so, he left with a purpose beyond what he know, and set to train.

He’s kind to most, but can get hostile quickly if he sees something against the good of all coming from the top. Still, he tries to give the benefit of the doubt… most of the time. He can still be a bit of a fanatic, one that most don’t understand, especially people like Ms. Hexum. He often calls on Avandra using augury, especially if there’s a problem he can’t solve on his own. Coupled with his necromancer sister, such a vibe can be a bit much, especially with his unsettling looks, and so most will qualify him as an evil paladin before they can be told or understand his loyalty to humanoids across Exandria, but especially those under the Quorum’s thumb.

[drcreatureflix]

A List of random books to read in DnD

Some random books to fill store shelves while the wizard is calculating the prices of his spell scrolls and the bard is busy deciding on smut. Oh look, theres 20 of them so you can roll for them as well.

1. Malvandi’s Codex Gigantius (A book talking about the history of a god of monsters and the largest known creatures in the world. Partially based on something I am working on) 2. Court of Dragons (A history of the dragons within the nine hells) 3. Pennyfool’s guide of travelling meals (A halfing size cookbook about foraging and hunting food and about keeping costs of meals cheap while out adventuring) 4. Familiar Fruition and Folly (Guidelines for looking after familiars of all kinds)  5. Vorai’s Visual Artesty of the Arcane (A self help book for casters to help make spells feel unique with visual flair and improving their technique while improving themselves) 6. Uracks Buuk of Hitting Stuff, sixth edition (A best selling book about the art of war by a fairly new ork author) 7. Within Fortune’s Favour (A rachy tale of a preist of Avandra being seduced by a domineering baron) 8. A Helpful guide of Necromancy, third edition (A more simplistic guide for beginning casters wishing to learn nercomancy, weirdly banned in many cities) 9. Understanding Abberations with Sindril (A history of the emergence of abberations in the mortal plane and breakdown of their cultures and language, requires three eyes minimum or psionic understanding to read) 10. The Fungus Amongus (Another halfing cookbook about culviatating roots and fungi for brews and stews,) 11. In the Mirrors of the Raven (A supposedly non-fiction telling of an adventurer’s time within the Raven Queen’s Palace) 12. The Wicked thorns of Misteltoe (A fictional story of a god falling in love with a mortal that is fated to be their death, quite popular with the younger generations) 13. Beside Drakes, second edition (A guide of raising dragons and realising them into the wild, all editions and copies weirdly always seemed charred alittle) 14. Curses and Me (A self-help book about living with curses and eventually breaking them, popular with those that travel the planes alot) 15. Arcane under Hammer and Anvil: An Advanced Dissection of spell crafting (A large tome for more advanced casters that wish to craft their own spells) 16. Far away and back again (A tale of one Dragonborn’s travels into the Far Realms) 17. In defence of the Sinful (A documentation discussing the gods usually deemed ‘evil’ and the unfortunate nescessity of them, very unpopular despite being a compelling read) 18. A Village Fools Tome of the Tarrasque (A simple understanding of the anatomy of a Tarrasque and best defensive measures against one, though its unknow if these measures have ever been used.) 19. Stengthening Strings of Music (A music book explaining the use of rhythum of music to cast spells) 20. Material and Magic (A documentation of the process of creating magical items)

This list was inspired by a random question on @creativerogues discord channel. If you want to partake in such random lists or want to play a game online head over to https://discord.gg/uhWfP8A and jpin the fun.

[korkorali]

Okay, but like, I wanna see more fantastical diversity in the depictions of the Prime Deities.

I wanna see Avandra as a calico tabaxi with slightly masculine features, dirty battered travelers clothes, and long curly brown hair.

I wanna see a Bahamut whose scales resemble feathers, who has two sets of angelic looking wings.

I wanna see a Corellon who exhibits mainly dark elf features.

I wanna see Erathis depicted with flowers covering her eyes, to show her devotion to Melora’s nature.

I wanna see Ioun as an old, silver-scaled, three-eyes ravenite, whose eyes shine with the spark of curiosity.

I wanna see Kord as a minotaur with two sets o imposing horns, with lightning and rain surrounding his visage.

I wanna see Melora as a large firbolg woman, with long ears and curly fur, who has dreadlocks with flowers and vines and other natural things waved into them. (She could also have some peircings to show commitment to Erathis’s civilization)

I wanna see Moradin as a gnomish tinkerer working on a strange new invention.

I wanna see Pelor as a half-orc with a halo behind his head, standing on a cliff overlooking the see, acting as a lighthouse for weary sailors.

I wanna see Sarenraei as an actual phoenix resting in a nest, which is actually a crackling hearth.

I wanna see the Raven Queen as a kenku with feathers that shimmer slightly like a rainbow under the right light.

I wanna see Sehanine as a sapphire tiefling with a large extravagant coat (one that cannot help but remind you of a peacock- by ostentatiousness alone), and what appears to be an innocent smile at first glance. But if you look close enough, you’d see an impish look behind the eyes, one that assures you that, despite the act, she’s the one in control, make no mistake.

I wanna see fantastically diverse Prime Deities

[idonthaveanyurlideas]

So for fun, I made up a whole Exandrian zodiac system based around the prime deities and then proceeded to go totally overboard but here ya go. The first four, for Avandra, Kord, Sehanine and Melora. I actually think Melora’s is one of my favourites overall.

(Part 2: Moradin, Sarenrae, Corellon, and Pelor)

(Part 3: Ioun, Erathis, Raven Queen and Bahamut)

(Western Zodiac Compared to Exandrian Zodiac)  

ID under read more

[ID: Four posters about zodiac signs of Exandria. Each poster includes a symbol, a constellation, dates, a description, and two pillars, with different landscapes and items at the bottom of the poster.

Poster 1: The Coins, 27th Duscur to 21st Horisal. Children born under this sign are said to be destined for riches or to be otherwise lucky with their financial endeavours. Under the eyes of Avandra the Changebringer, they are likely to be seasoned travellers, filled with wonderlust and never comfortable staying in one place their entire lives. They are excellent improvisers and adapt quickly, but chafe under rigid routines, becoming quickly bored and often finding it difficult to maintain relationships.  The colour scheme for this poster is orange and yellow, and the constellation is in the shape of three overlapping coins with Avandra’s face on them. The landscape is dirt with a path in the middle, and a backpack, walking staff, bedroll and water canteen are leaning against the pillars.

Poster 2: The General, 22nd Horisal to 20th Misuthar. Strong and brave, children of the General are said to take after Kord the Stormlord himself. A child that grows particularly tall and strong is often said to be a sure General, and many great war heroes, kings and queens were born under this sign. Graced with natural leadership skills, some can inspire entire nations to new heights, while others let their brashness and spirit get the best of them, running headlong into ruin.  The colour scheme is light blue and purple, and the constellation is in the shape of an armoured man with a beard holding one hand up in a fist and other up as if directing people. The landscape is an old battlefield with a torn flag hanging on one of the pillars and armour and weapons littering the ground in various states of rust, with poppies growing from the dirt. 

Poster 3: The Harp, 21st Misuthar to 17th Dualahei. Quiet and said to be the most mysterious of the signs, children born under this sign are often excellent liars and actors. Theorised to have historically been connected to Sehanine, the Moonweaver, many of her followers claim that being born under this sign is an omen for luck in love. Children of the Harp are quick-witted, and many rogues are born under its watch. They can be among the most sensitive of the signs, though they rarely show it. The colour scheme is purple and pink, and the constellation is in the shape of a fancy harp. The landscape is a stone floor with fabric wrapped around a pillar, a heavy cloak hanging on a rack, a vase of roses, a chest, and orange maple leaves scattered on the ground.

Poster 4: The Shell, 18th Dualahei to 14th Thunsheer. With moods shifting like the oceans tides, children of the Shell can be both calm and wild, serene and volatile, with little warning between changes. Guided by Melora the Wildmother, unbalanced they can be among the most emotional of the signs, and lead by their gut and heart rather than their head. But with patience and restraint, they can be deceptively strong, surprising others with their tenacity and able to release their emotions when it is appropriate. The colour scheme is greenish blue, and the constellation is a conch shell. The landscape is of watery pools with moss-covered rocks and fern poking out, moss and water plants climbing up the pillars. /end ID]

[dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition]

40, 53, 58, 85 and 92 for all 3 of ur kids?

oc questions!

if i wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that i would have to know to draw them correctly?

ori's got thick, dark, wavy hair that's going white in places. a flattish nose with slight convex curvature--wide nostrils, lots of facial scars + one huge (burn? it looks like a burn, a little bit) scar on her left arm. a bunch of piercing scars on her right arm. spiral tattoos all over the upper body. perpetually anxious expression. gentle, brown eyes.

anthe's got the freckles; they're everywhere. wide nose. short dark brown hair all in her face, covering up her eyes--black, dark circles under them. flowers weaved into the hair, constantly. very sturdy build. a lot of piercings--ears, nose, lip, brow. draconic and elvish tats on her arms and shoulderblades.

des is just... a beanpole. very tall, really gangly. long, messy light gray hair, and a shadow-y halo above their head. their nose has been broken a half-dozen times, very obviously. eyes are just. fully made of shadow. classic Protag Eyebrow Scar. white freckles. a few shitty sailor tats.

what is something that they want but can’t have?

ori considers every want to be something she can't have, but, uh. intimacy is a big one. as much as she wants it, she's terrified of it, so it triggers her anxiety, which means she can't do it, because it could burn them, so. ouroboros situation. she can handle it if she's distracted. but it's still difficult.

anthe wants security in her faith, but she's not the type to let things go unquestioned, unexamined. she wants to know the whys, the buts, the ands, and, well, that's not necessarily avandra's style. she rewards curiosity, of course, but, uh. divinity by its nature is difficult to get answers from.

des wants their father back, you son of a bitch 🥰

do they like to show off?

ori would claim she doesn't, but she has--pardon the overused phrase and the pun--gifted kid burnout; she's ex-child prodigy and what have you. so if people act impressed with her, she might play into it. a little awkwardly.

anthe shows off as a means to counteract her insecurities--she's afraid of losing her cleric abilities? she'll show off fancy cleric spells. she's told she's stupid? she'll try and use that 20 wis to her adv. etc etc etc.

des doesn't see the point in it? like yeah they're pretty dope but they don't need to show it off. and if they show it off, that means they're conceited, which is wrong and bad and and and

do they like to cook?

ori doesn't like it, but does it if she has to.

anthe loves it and really wants to cook for her friends sometime soon!!! cooking and baking are v important to her as a form of dedication 2 the cycle of life and as an act of creation and it makes sense to her!!!

des absolutely cannot cook to save their life

what was their childhood like?

ori's childhood was... a lot. her parents are technically nobles; they're part of an order of demon-pact-making blood magic warriors in service of their country's king. they are what we'd call Lawful Evil, here in the biz! ori was set to be the ideal child 2 her parents but unfortunately she has morals and also had a mental breakdown. oops!

anthe's childhood was colorful and warm; her family was big and dedicated and so much to deal with. but she had a little bit of trouble keeping her magic contained and staying out of trouble, so her family's elders sort of, thought she'd be better off exploring the world. so she had a good start! but uhhh maybe sending a preteen away from her home for "her own good" is not so smart,

des had a. childhood that was very good, save a few experiences. they had a good family that loved them and loved each other, and they had friends, and they had potential, and it was great. it's a pity that they have just. the absolute worst luck, when it comes to losing people.

[canyouhearthelight]

AMA Week!!!

To allow my chapter buffer to build back up, this week I will be doing a week long Ask Me Anything.

You can ask about me, my writing projects, stuff I collab or beta read on... Anything!!

[bluejaytaco]

Jay plays DND. Again.

(Back in the room with the statues, we’re trying to figure out how they all fit into one another. Each statue is missing a piece and there are pieces of rubble on the ground.)

Wreybar: (Sees the pieces glowing) The stones are glowing

The rest of the party: (sees no glowing)

Hector: (Starts to wake up from his little fear coma)

Wreybar: I wanna throw Hector at one of the statues!

DM: Okay. Anyone have any objections?

Art: (Just shrugs and looks at Alabaster)

Alabaster: Well... if you believe it will help.

(After a quick near misstep of Wreybar nearly throwing Hector while Boblin was still attached, Hector gets thrown at a statue of Mrs. Red where it looks like she’s stepping on somehting. His head ends up under her boot. Then her eyes start to glow green and she starts to step down.)

Art: Uhhh, we probably shouldn’t let this happen!

Alabaster: (Quickly pulls Hector out from under the statue before he’s comepletely crushed)

Wreybar: (Crushed that we didn’t let Hector die (For Context: she’s slightly insane right now.))

Art:.... Letting that happen could interfere in the way the statues work. If we let the statue finish, we could end up trapped in here.

Wreybar:... Guess you gotta point.

(Stand around figuring out the rocks and such for a while. Most are too heavy for a good amount of us to move. Wreybar’s able to kick one accross the room, but then Boblin tries to move one and goes “yeah, that ain’t moving.”)

Ticket Master: Mmmph! Hrm! (Art undoes the cloth again) Blech, please don’t put that back on... Anyway, hello!

Art: Hey, what’s up?

Ticket Master: It seems like you’re having trouble with a puzzle! Stones and statues and such. I would like to assist.

Art: How do you know that if you can’t see?

Ticket Master: Oh, I can see through your eyes!

Alabaster: (with all the sarcasm in his body) Oh good!

Ticket Master: Why yes it is! Now, go and place me on that stone over there.

Art: Uh... okay? (Does so)

Stone: (Starts to glow green)

Ticket Master: Mhm, just as I thought. Remove me. (Art pulls him back) you’re not very smart, are you?

Art: I mean... how long have you known me?

Ticket Master: The stones are of a specific type of magic that center off different abilities. You just have to match them to their statue. 

Art: Ah ha... simple enough. (As Art pulls away, he gets a vision of Ticket Master in a prison cell.) ... you’re in jail?

Ticket Master:.... yes, but we’ll get to that soon.

---

(We get through one of the statues that’s focus is on Charisma. Art’s able to convince it with a double disadvantage as he was the last one allowed to speak for the simple face that he was the one holding the stone to power it.(Bards and charisma, so it makes sense.) We move onto a stone for intelligence, where Hennessy is guiding it.)

Statue(Turns to Alabaster:) Tell me the name of the general currently in power at Avandra’s gulch.

Alabaster: Oh... well... ehm... hmm...

(DM:No one help.)

Art: (wants so badly to help.) C’mon... you got this. (filled with frustration.)

Alabaster:... um....(takes a random shot in the dark) Billy.

Art: (facepalm)

Statue: Incorrect. His name is Zerg. (Turns to Art as the tiefling is looking at Alabaster in annoyance.) You. What is the name of the bartender you bedded?

Art:....fuck.... 

Alabaster: Oh, you shame me and yet you cannot recall the woman with whom you copulated?

Art: I remember the woman I copulated with, Alabaster. I just didn’t want to recall the act. Her name is Shia.

Statue: Incorrect. Her name is Shia. (just pronounced differently.)

 Art: No the fuck it isn’t!

Statue: (Turns to Hennessy) You, wizard. (Art, in the background: I call bullshit!) What is the name of your lover?

Hennessy: Vincent. (Undeniably, the right answer)

Statue: Incorrect. (The statue then starts to go into the ground and spazes out.)

(This is the statue Wreybar threw Hector into so.... clearly we broke something.)

(Before we can figure out what to do, a tornado drops down in the room. Art and Wreybar are able to dive out of the way while Alabaster and Hennessy get sucked up. From his spot on the ground, Art recognizes it as a god’s ability. Shawn, the god of Winds. The one who guides them to the rooms with the other gods. He shouts this over to Wreybar and then dives in with her.)

Shawn, looking horribly tired: Alright. Wreybar, Alabaster, Art... your gods are ready to speak with you.

Art: You look like you could use a break... you okay?

Shawn, brushes him off: yeah, fine whatever. (Leads them to Art’s god) This is you, Art. You can bring someone in with you. Or everyone. I don’t fucking care.

Art:.... (turns to Alabaster) you wanna come in with me?

Alabaster:... why yes! Yes, that would be lovely. 

(Both head into the God room)

---

DM: Art, Alabaster. You walk into the room and see a man lounging in a throne. He looks exhausted. Art, from your hand, you can hear Ticket Master getting excited.

Art:... uh, a little enthusiastic there, sweets?

Ticket Master: Oh, he’s just an old friend. It’s good to see him again!

God: (Looks up at them)

Art: ...hey there.

Alabaster: Hail and Well met!

God: (stands up. He towers over Art) Do you fear me?

Art: ...No. Should I?

God: No, of course not. But do you trust me? (When Art doesn’t answer, he puts out a hand) If you trust me, shake my hand.

(DM: which hand is Art gonna shake with?

Me: That all depends on which hand he put out. (We spent a little too long on whether or not it would be the Ticket Master hand or his normal hand. Makes me wonder if I should have gone with the Ticket Master hand.))

As Art put his hand into the god’s, he was pulled in closer so the god could whisper in his ear.

God: I cannot be your god as Ticket Master has already claimed you for himself. However, I can help you as he is a good friend of mine. (Let’s go and hands Art a coin with his symbol on it.) If you ever find yourself in a situation where you need to speak with me, crush that coin.

Art:...This sounds like it’s a one-time thing.

God: it is. Now, there’s more I must say, but I can’t with those bracelets in place so give me your wrists. 

Art: (readily gives the god his wrist and watches with glee as Task Master’s bracelet is shattered)

God: (turns to Alabaster) You as well.

Alabaster: (very hesitant)

Art: Look! No more Task Master! (Happily showing his wrist)

Alabaster:....(Gives the god his hand)

DM: He takes the bracelet off your wrist, but he’s not really all that gentle with you. It falls to the ground with Art’s and he looks at both of you.

God: No one wearing those bracelets can know what I’m about to tell you. Can I trust you to keep this secret?

Art:.... I mean, I’ve been keeping plenty of secrets. What’s one more?

God: There is a war you have yet to see. A war between the gods. Many of those on the side of light wish to rid the world of everything and start with a clean slate. Others believe this would be unnecessary. Myself and Ticket Master are on the side of the latter. The god you serve, Alabaster, will work to rid the world of it all.

Alabaster:... And how can I be sure to trust you?

God: Honestly, you can’t. That decision is up to you. But know this; the other symbol on your coin was mine. If you denounce Pelor, you can still find solace under me.

Alabaster: Yes. Yes... (turns to Art a little too enthusiastically) Would you like to go speak to Pelor now???

Art: Uh, sure... (Turns to the God) before we go.... what’s your name?

(Koejin’s player: (tuned in at this point) yeah, gods don’t like when we don’t ask for names.)

God: (Slightly exasperated) My name is Cerephim.

Art: Right, Cerephim.... Thank you... (Walks out with Alabaster)

--

Shawn, very tired looking: Okay, this is you, Alabaster. Bring someone in if you want. Or don’t; I don’t care.

Alabaster: (stares at the door with Pelor’s symbol on it) Hmm... (Turns to Art) Would you like to come in with me?

Art:... I mean, do you think that’s a good idea?

Alabaster: (Smiling) I haven’t the slightest clue.

Art:.... yeah, okay.

(Art and Alabaster walk into the room which is basically Pelor’s hall of light. Art is doing his best to hide behind Alabaster so he’s not noticed. Unfortunately, I would have needed to roll a 21 in stealth to not be spotted, so Pelor sees him.)

Pelor: (Looking at Art, immediately judgmental and suspicious) You there. Are you a believer in the light as well? And ready to rid this world of darkness?

Art: (pretty intimidated) Uhhhhh, well, you know.... I’m actually.... more of a moral grey guy myself. You know, trying to figure it out and such.... Maybe work towards... becoming part of the light? (Jay’s Fun fact: if you’re standing in front of a God of Light, say none of these things!)

Pelor: Get out.

Art: You got it! (turns on a heel and heads for the door)

(Alabaster’s Player, The DM, and I spent a full minute laughing at this. Somewhere, in a different plane of existence, Ticket Master is ramming his head against the wall at the sight.)

DM: You could of lied to him, you know.

Me: I have literal darkness as my right hand. Last thing I need is Pelor seeing through my lies, grabbing my hand, and having Ticket Master going “Helloooo~!”

Pelor:(Talks to Alabaster about following the light and not being so indecisive with his calling) Enough of the “Well, maybe”s. You have to be forceful, my boy! You must fight to destroy the darkness!

Alabaster: Yes, I understand.... I’ve also heard rumors.... of a war happening between gods... possibly a disagreement?

Pelor: (laughs) There’s no such war, my boy! We gods work together. The people who says otherwise fill your head with lies!

Alabaster: (Relieved) Yes, quite. That is what I wished to hear. Well, I guess I must be off then. (Heads for the door)

Pelor: One last thing before you go. A quest you must fill. If you wish to continue to serve in the light... you must kill your daughter.

Alabaster: (Stops)..... (Turns with a smile) You see, I felt as though that might become a situation...

Pelor: And you must see why. She was born of the darkness! A child like that cannot be allowed to continue on.

Alabaster: But, I must ask... Would it simply be possible to guide her over to the light? Surely she can be saved.

Pelor: (clearly not pleased) ....well, if you must try.

Alabaster: You are most wise. (Leaves)

---

(Meanwhile)

(Theodora, Koejin, and Oskar are walking through tunnels looking for Mrs. Red. Instead, they find a passed out Eltbalm, a passed out Shia, and a half digested dead body. Shia and Eltbalm wake up around the same time.)

Shia: (Incoherent and insane from Ticket Master’s power supplied through Art’s dick, apparently)

Eltbalm: (Uses Remove Curse on her)

Shia:....ugh... what happened?

Theodora: You went insane thanks to the God of Death and Deceit.

Shia: ..... Art’s the God of Death and Deceit??

Theodora: What? No.

Koejin: But he did fuck the God of Death and Deceit.

Shia:...guess it’s true. You fuck a bard and you’re fucking every girl that bard’s been with.

Koejin and Theodora:....

Shia:... the God of Death and Deceit is a woman...right?

Theodora:...Honestly, it would be fitting.

Koejin: but no, Ticket Master’s a guy... we think.

Shia: wait. So Art slept with a man?! ugh....

(Me: Art slept with a homophobe??

DM: I had to make her terrible in some way.)

Koejin: I suddenly regret saving you.

(Shia might not make it back home at this rate. Pretty sure if Koejin doesn’t kill her, Hennessy will.)

---

(Eltbalm ends up carrying Shia out of the tunnel they were in and leaves Koejin and Theodora to continue their search for Purple, who they find shortly after. 

Koejin then has a secret meeting with her god. When she comes back, she tells General Purple to shift into something that would then read her mind. Upon doing this, Purple sees Bahamut, gets scared, and becomes the purple gem. Theodora is very confused as Bahamut is her god.)

Theodora:... You saw Bahamut?

Koejin: As a kid. I didn’t think it was him but it turns out...

Theodora: This... doesn’t make any sense. How? Why? 

Koejin: I could tell you. But you’re wearing something that prevents me from doing that.

Theodora: (looks down at Task Master’s bracelet.)

(Task Master is summoned shortly after this. He ends up controlling Skelly and that’s where this particular session ends. A lot of shit has happened since this, but mental issues kept me from typing this out sooo yeah. More will probably come very soon!)

[kaytewrites]

apotheosis

hey remember that time i wrote some gay shit about the gods for my dnd game because i do

avandra/pelor/rq don’t @ me k

rating: PG warnings: minor character death word count: 2881

he stole her from the world, named her nera, and claimed her for his own. she reminds herself of this with every breath and every touch of stolen power, repeats it like a mantra when she finally drives a dagger into his spine and whispers ‘goodbye’ to nerull, even as she feels her own body burn to ash. she was only ever mortal, after all.

(but i don’t want to be, she thinks, and becomes something - else. something closer to what he wanted in the first place. she doesn’t know if it’s the greatest irony the realms have ever created or if she truly has the worst luck the world has ever known. she tries not to think about it too much.)

the gods put her on trial for it. she wants to laugh, to cackle and shove the knowledge that nerull would have slaughtered each and every one of them given the chance - but then she looks at them, and sees. they are terrified of her for the same reason.

they give her a bargain: become a gatekeeper, or be destroyed.

fate slings itself like a cloak around her, and she walks out of that judgement hall with death in her hands.

avandra is born from the spring and song. one beat, there is nothing; the next, a woman with hair red as fire and a lute in her hands strums a soft song while she sits and guards the waystones that line the paths of the world. a group of travelers passes by. they hear the song, and hum its tune, and avandra smiles. the start of the world is golden and fresh, and she feels change like spring on the wind.

avandra is a young goddess, she knows, and pelor one of the oldest - he was one of the gods that fought in the dawn war. she’s heard its stories from ioun, in their quiet sessions of council whenever avandra is thirsty for story and song. ioun tells her like she reading off a script, though her blind eyes see nothing.

“but what was he like? was it glorious?” she asks, curiousity needling her mind.

“he was the sun,” says ioun, and she says nothing more on the matter.

avandra sees the mortal woman thrown into the judgement hall, hands shackled in front of her and brilliant violet eyes defiant - they flicker from face to face, unafraid in this hall of gods, and avandra knows - she has changed their fates, just as surely as the wind blows.

pelor stands at the top of their little half-circle of council, radiant and shining. “you, mortal raised from the bonds of mortality, have murdered he who gave you this gift, this boon - what say you in your defence?”

the woman stands, shackles clicking where metal meets metal. she looks directly at pelor and laughs. her gaze stays steady on the sun god’s face when she finally speaks. “i thought i could do better. i cleared the throne. and now that you’ve got an empty seat to fill, i want it.” her tone is clear, cutting, like a river slicing through cold mountain stone. her eyes burn with violence.

avandra looks from pelor, to the woman, and back to the faces that surround them. ioun stays silent as ever. melora is contemplative. erathis is fuming. before avandra can voice her piece, pelor speaks again.

“then take your throne, raven queen. you will be their guide, but not their keeper, or you will be nothing.”

she smiles with teeth like gravestones, and the shackles vanish.

avandra watches carefully, and feels the winds of change shift around her.

pelor is the oldest of them. he remembers murdering his brothers and mourning them in the same panting, laboured breaths, watching oblivion claim its souls one by one, watching the sun rise over a new land.

pelor watches the new goddess of death walk from the judgement hall unshackled. this is not the first time a god has fallen. it will not be the last.

he heaves a heavy sigh, and looks across to his far left - there, their second-newest addition sits: avandra, beautiful goddess of travelers, change, and spring. born of song and fair weather. she has not seen the strife of a gods’ war. pelor would keep it that way for all new gods and goddesses to come, but he knows it is inevitable. he only hopes to hold onto his mind long enough to guide them all in the right direction.

“i do not trust her,” erathis tells him as they both take their tea in one of the sitting rooms in their golden palace. elysium is peaceful around them, is always, always peaceful under their watchful eyes.

“a little late for that, erathis.”

“she killed one of us.”

“he would’ve killed all of us, given the chance.”

“and she won’t?”

pelor hums, takes a thoughtful sip of his tea. “that’s why she is the gatekeeper, not their guardian.”

erathis scoffs and sets her tea down angrily. “fine. when this all comes tumbling down, don’t come begging for help.”

pelor hums once more, inscrutable, and erathis leaves him to his own devices.

her castle is made of ice and stone and obsidian. she has seen it many a time before, but it had never been hers, not the way it is now. now, the stone shapes itself to her command, and she is left on her own more often than not. ocassionally, there is a wayward soul that lingers too long in the hollow spaces between life and death - she guides with a gentle, impunitive hand, leading them to their final destination in the outer realms.

she walks the halls of her grand cathedral of a home, filled with libraries and sitting rooms and all the trappings a mortal could ever need. shadowfell decays around her. it is nothing like pluton, for which she is grateful.

she guts it inch by inch, ripping out every creature comfort installed. there is no place for complacency, for comfort, here. if she is to be as powerful as she desires, she will need to be ready. she will need to be aware. she will need to never, ever, let her guard down.

she does not touch the libraries. they are the one remnant of the castle’s previous tenant she allows to remain.

it seems like years before she finally leaves her castle once more. she looks to the sky, and realizes only a scant few months have passed. only a year since she last saw the sun rise as a mortal woman.

well. time is unimportant, now, she thinks, and dismisses it. fate brought her here. destiny. she was meant for this. she will become more, she knows. she just has to reach out and take it.

she does not leave her castle again. she bans mention of nerull’s name, condemning him to oblivion. the only one that ever speaks it is ioun.

it is with her fellow goddess that she asks counsel. “i need a way to move forward. i know it is there. it is destined. i just need to know how to reach out and -”

her hand snatches empty air, and ioun makes no indication that she recognized the motion. she just takes another slow sip of her ever-present tea. “you will know when it is time. as faithful as the seasons, destiny is.” and ioun lifts the blindfold to wink at the raven queen.

the raven queen smiles a quiet, private smile. “thank you, ioun.”

“of course,” she says, and sips her tea.

when lolth falls to corellon’s bow, she is there to snatch destiny from her dying fingers. lolth screams and raves as the raven queen rips her soul from her body, guiding it on its way to the outer planes like any other mortal. corellon watches on, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

a spark lingers in her hand for just a moment. when he blinks, it is gone.

“seems i picked the proper side in this war, hmm?” her smile is ice.

corellon feels a chill run down his spine despite himself. “indeed.”

avandra strums her lute thoughtfully as she looks across the planes, the urge to explore singing through the magic that makes her body, down to her feet. the waystone she sits upon is weathered and grey, but its old traveler’s magic still lingers. she makes sure of it.

she turns her gaze toward shadowfell, where the shadows lay thickest and ruin seeps into every corner, and begins to walk.

the castle is made of ice and stone and obsidian. she has never seen it before, but the way it catches the light, the way the obsidian seems to curl and bend underneath it, the way the ice shatters the light into a thousand different colors. it is beautiful, in a solemn, deadly way.

the raven queen waits at the gates to her home. “what brings you here?” her voice is crystal and ice and it cuts through avandra like a dagger.

“i was wandering.” it seems too weak an excuse on her tongue, though it is the truth.

“a bit far to wander for you, hm?” sharp eyes dig into her, and she wants to curl underneath them. “what brings you here, dear heart?”

i wanted to know why the other gods fear you, she does not say, but it burns on her tongue. instead, she says this:

“would you like to have tea?”

the raven queen looks her up and down, and she shivers under that cold glare. eventually, the ice thaws from her gaze, and the eyes that greet avandra next warm her to her core.

“i think i would, dear heart.”

pelor hears of the new friendship avandra has struck with the raven queen, and he worries, deep in his heart of hearts. he calls avandra to his side, meets her halfway between realms in the quiet space-between-spaces that seems to be unending and yet so very small, and relays this concern.

“i worry, young one - she is hungry.” she is a wolf, he does not say. you are a lamb going straight to the slaughter. what else would a goddess of fate and death have with a goddess of luck and light?

avandra laughs like windchimes. “pelor, you worrywart. i’m afraid your age may have blinded you to friendship.” she tosses her hair over her shoulder - it is always windblown, as if her hair itself is as carefree as she herself is. “our dear queen is far more charming than you give her credit for. she is not death itself, nor is she as icy as she pretends to be.”

“besides,” avandra says with a wink, “jealousy isn’t a very dignified look on you, pelor.” she leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek, dangeously close to his lips.

avandra wanders away, lute back in her hands - did it ever truly leave them? pelor steps back to elysium, back to his castle with erathis and ioun, and begins to think.

khala falls, and the raven queen strips the winter from her bones, even as her soul fades to ashes on the ground. when she comes back to her home in shadowfell, the ice seems sharper, stronger somehow.

the raven queen smiles and opens the gates once more.

avandra visits regularly, now - tea in the afternoons, stargazing at night, visits to the material planes to see the mortals she loves to play with. the raven queen does not see the appeal of consorting with mortals; but, she thinks, i suppose i am the one that guides them into death. she sees death everywhere, waiting, watching - there is nothing on these planes that will ever elude her grasp. nothing. and if it tries, she will track it down until it submits to its fate.

“destiny is inescapable,” she mutters, a flower in her hands.

“hmm?” avandra hums, confused, and the raven queen places the flower in her hair. the vibrant orange-yellow of the tiger lily complements her fire-red hair beautifully.

“nothing, dear heart,” she says, and presses a kiss to avandra’s cheek.

avandra smiles. “alright.”

in her chest, the raven queen’s heart gives a faint, weak pulse. she ignores the impulse to drag avandra back to shadowfell and make her a beautiful ruin on the softest sheets she can find, and instead weaves another flower (gloriosa rothschildiana) into her hair.

pelor finds the raven queen in her study, a book in hand and glasses perched on her nose. the glasses are for show, of course - immortality removes any pesky side-effects of aging and decay that linger on a mortal body, but the raven queen still possesses a small part of her vanity. she enjoys the way they look on her, nothing more.

“you speak with avandra.” the statement is not a question.

she places the book on the table, bookmark tucked neatly in its pages. “yes.”

“what do you plan to do with her, raven queen?” his voice holds thunder. he is the god of farmers and simple folk, yes, but he also led a war against the gods. there is a reason they all defer to him for final judgement.

“jealousy does not become you, dear pelor.” she snarks, deadpan, before removing the glasses and wishing them away. before he can speak again, she raises a hand, silencing his retort.

“you can cease you worrying, pelor. i wish no more ill will towards avandra than my own right hand.” she looks to her hands, then, wrings them in each other. “i do not think i could.” something crosses her face then, darker and more serious than any expression he’s seen on her visage before - it speaks of a silence that has run too long, and a pain that has run too deep, to ever be truly healed.

the raven queen sighs. “she is the best of us, possibly. i could never want to cage her light.”

not like you were caged, he thinks, and thinks he might understand the elusive death goddess more than he did moments ago.

“alright, then.” pelor nods, businesslike once more, and turns to leave.

“and pelor-” her voice rings in the small study as he stops midturn. “your jealously is unfounded. there is more than enough love in her heart for us both, you know.”

she does not tell him that she wishes avandra would just choose pelor once and for all. she cannot give her the light she craves. she is winter and ice and cold, cold death, and he is heat and sun and summer fruit, for all his gruff nature. she does not need someone to freeze her over and keep her preserved in perfect beauty. her beauty is in her motion, for all that they clash because of it.

pelor leaves with a contemplative frown on his handsome face, and the raven queen resigns herself to her destiny shrouded in shadow.

avandra sees pelor leave shadowfell, and watches the frown on his face smooth to easy smile. she is glad for it. he is the most handsome when he smiles. “ho, pelor!”

“ho, avandra!” he calls back, and she slings her lute onto her back and hugs him tightly.

“you didn’t give the raven queen too much of a scolding, did you? i knew that taking on responsibility for winter would be too much for her, but she insisted, and you know how she gets when she’s stubborn about something.”

pelor laughs like summer thunderstorms, a deep rumble she feels in her chest from where her arms are wrapped around him. “no, my dear, i did not.”

avandra’s brow turns quizzical. “then what did you speak about?”

pelor laughs again, and presses a kiss to her cheek.

avandra frowns for a moment more, and realization dawns. “oh - oh!” she smiles and tightens her hold on him with a laugh of her own. “i was wondering when you’d both realize.”

pelor smiles in response. “sorry for the wait.”

“well, we’re gods, aren’t we? we’ve got all the time in the world.”

and avandra takes him by the hand, and she leads him back to the waystones that she holds so dear.

the raven queen waits in her castle of ice and stone and obsidian for a long while.

the castle seems to creak with the waiting, the very foundations themselves feeling in time with their stony queen of winter and death.

after a time, avandra comes, faithful as the dawn.

“i knew you’d still be here, waiting for me, you melodramatic fool of a queen,” she says, warmth in her tone, and she can already feel herself bend towards her light like a flower in bloom.

“always, dear heart,” and she presses a kiss to avandra’s lips before she can speak again.

it is - hard, at first, to reconcile in her heart her love for this god and goddess; they are night and day and just as different. pelor is the sun and the raven queen is the moon; summer and winter and light and dark and life and death in equal, opposite measures. but she is their medium. their spring. their chance and their thaw. she loves both of them with everything in her heart, and she would have it no other way.

[lunacanis99]

Mantle Half Angels

Let's 👏 talk 👏 about 👏 half angels! 👏

Gods I love what I've done with half angels in my world. They're another one of those things that originally wasn't going to be as important as it later became, but boy am I happy they became this important.

I suppose I should start with why half angels are so big in my world, and I suppose the big thing is: they're rare. Like really rare.

See, when the gods sealed away Tiamat and Tharizdun they decided they were too powerful to interact with the humans and thus created the Devine gate, this included the overly powerful half angels and Demigods. So they were wiped out then and the trend continued, any angels that did dare to have half angels were highly punished and ostracized and their children were seen as abominations to be hunted down by any holy person. Not only that but a lot of a half angel's bodies (their blood, feathers, excetera) are strong spell components and thus the half angels also end up hunted down by wizards and collectors. So most half angels don't live long, either because they're hunted down or because they're never taught to control their abilities.

So, the main half angels we'll be talking about are:

•Neer: Son of Aiden, head angel of Bane and angel of fear.

•Jet: Son of Shadow, head angel of The Raven Queen and angel of shadows.

•and Robin-Rivers: Child of Sage, angel of Vecna and angel of whispers and the unknown.

An though they'll be the main ones we're talking about there are 4 more in the world. And yes, they are the only other 4 currently in existence.

•Ruby: Daughter of Twist, head angel of Zehir and angel of Toxicity.

•Shimmer: Daughter of Darcey, head angel of Melora and angel of the wilds.

•Callisto: Daughter of Shine, head angel of Avandra and angel of luck.

•Stella: Daughter of Avery, angel of Sahanine and angel of trickery.

Now: currently Stella is a baby (less than a year old) still living with both her parents (as Avery fell to have Stella), Ruby Callisto and Shimmer are living together in a mountain hide away as a makeshift family, Robin-Rivers is living on the Shepard farm under the adoptive protection of Canary, and Neer and Jet are at each other's sides fighting alongside Church and State (the party).

But let's really talk about half angels, starting with those two fighting boys: Jet and Neer. And let's start with their parents:

•Aiden and Vitani: Aiden is the head angel of Bane and the physical embodiment of fear. But he wasn't always Bane's head angel, he used to be head angel to Tharizdun until Bane won a bet and thus won the ability to switch head angels and claimed Aiden as his own. This led to Aiden coming to head with his new companions Sloane and Tamara and often found him in the mortal realm, where he met Vitani. Vitani was a lion hybrid and a skyrate who caught the angel's eye with her recklessness, being too brave and or stupid to have any caution even when making fun of literal fear incarnate. Their connection grew strong and fast and Aiden continued to defy his god's wishes to see her, and continued to do so even after he was found out, especially after he learned of Vitani's pregnancy. Only barely a year after Neer's birth did Bane put his foot down and keep Aiden in the Devine plane under strict guard and stricter punishment, tearing off one of his 2 sets of wings to do so. Around 5 years later a collector Skyrate called Captain Hunter rolled through and learned of Neer, and wanted Neer. Killing Vitani to steal him.

•Shadow and Talon: Talon, a dark skinned teifling, grew up with his friend Meralith. And while Talon found his specially in the wilds with a bow Meralith had an incredibly strong penchant for magic. Too strong in fact. As as he grew older and more powerful he turned his eyes to immortality, and thus to lichdom, and grew a cult-esk following with Talon as his right hand. But Talon still had morals and eventually decided his childhood friend went too far and turned traitor to side with the followers of the Raven Queen trying to prevent Meralith's ascent to lichdom. Only to find Shadow, the head angel of the Raven Queen already helping the clerics and paladins. There was an instant connection between the two that only grew as they fought side by side and risked their lives together. And, when Talon nearly fell to a spell of Meralith, Shadow felt real fear for him and knew she'd fallen in love. It wasn't long after that that Shadow brought Talon his son and her predicament. The Raven Queen obviously found out and told Shadow she was either to give up the child and have no interaction with him or Talon and serve her loyalty, or fall; basically be kicked out of the devine plane with no chance of return and a loss of purpose. And Shadow chose loyalty to her god. Talon raised Jet in secret as long as he could, but the Raven Queen's temple was still after him seeing him as the last member of Meralith's cult and Talon knew they would kill Jet should they find him. So when he found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place he chose to get captured by the ravens instead of letting them find Jet.

But these stories don't end here! (Obviously) So let's move on to their pregame lives-

•Neer: Our favorite half lion half angel boy spent about a year as a basically pet (abused pet) to Captain Hunter before another Skyrate captain: a raccoon hybrid named Captain Reginald saw him and choose to steal him to free him. Only, after he got Neer away from Hunter Neer told him he had no home to be taken back to, so Neer got adopted by Captain Reginald and was raised alongside his own children Sam and Lynn. He was raised strong, being prepared to survive life as a Skyrate and raised proud, to embrace his angel half and learn to master his abilities. As well Aiden eventually defied his orders again to help train Neer, despite Neer's strong hatred for his own father that he saw as abandoning him and his mother. But he still grew up to be an incredibly strong and joyful first mate to his adoptive sister Lynn when she became captain of the ship (after Reginald was killed by the very same Captain Hunter), even if he inherited his mother's ridiculous recklessness.

•Jet: Meanwhile the blood angel was found not long after his father's disappearance and captured by a wizard named Mercury that kept him as a pet and a source of spell components. After many many years of this, while Mercury was moving towers once again, Canary Shepard came across Jet in his cage and unlocked him, taking him with her for a few years before they split paths as well. Jet eventually found his way to a monastery where he learned his penchant for fighting and found an adoptive younger sister named June. He also became a follower, or at least found a respect for the Raven Queen and actually managed to talk to his mom a few times do to his loyalty.

Now you can see obvious differences in how they were raised. The biggest difference being how Neer was raised embracing his angel side and Jet was raised hiding what he was at all costs. Jet is terrified of his own shadow and keeps his wings constantly bound and covered to hide what he is while Neer has no fear and usually just faces any threat that comes for him.

Eventually these two met when Neer tried to lure Captain Hunter in and got himself captured, and Lynn contracted Church and State to help her free him. They both ended up captured and worked their way out of Hunter's lair together, finding themselves well equipped to fight side by side and growing rather close before finally facing Hunter down on the deck of his ship. At which point Jet manages to kill Hunter's first mate, who also happened to be Hunter's fiancé, which means Jet did what he has come to do best and got Hunter to aim specifically for him. Which, considering how much damage Hunter could do in one round, meant Jet was very quickly on very low health. But Neer was after Hunter and (because he's a protection fighter) he was able to shield Jet from many of Hunter's attacks before finishing off Hunter himself. (Adorable right?)

But let's talk about Hunter for a second because he's also important in this. As much as I tried to coax the group into it they never really took an interest in what he was enough to ask the right people (which would have been Ressa or Erabus mind you guys) which is a shame because he's actually really interesting. See when Jet killed his fiancé Kraven Hunter absolutely freaked out and completely changed, he dropped his shield and started floating with sudden golden wings of pure magical energy as well as glowing golden eyes and started doing a crap ton more radiant damage with each hit. These obviously aren't normal abilities especially since Hunter had looked human before but obviously he wasn't. In fact he was a race I called a BrightBorn. Meaning he's the direct descendant of a demigod and a half angel. Because there actually are demigods left in the world since they don't actually age, but they are about ten times as rare as half angels with maybe one or two in existence. However they don't have physical tells like half angels so keep themselves completely hidden away. Which is all very interesting information the group is just now figuring out. (Hi guys)

But anyways, back to what we were talking about and our last important half angel:

•Robin-Rivers. Robin-River's father was an elf and mother an angel of Vecna but other than that not much is known. Robin-Rivers told Canary they never met their mother and though they traveled through the Forbidden Sands with their father for a few years he eventually sold Robin-Rivers to a skyrate captain (surprisingly not Hunter). However, it wasn't long after that Lynn and Neer raided that very same ship and Neer took Robin-River's in as his own. But how Robin-Rivers is different and how they're important is their mother, and how unlike the others she wasn't a head angel. Because of this Robin-Rivers grew up weak and underdeveloped: their wings aren't big or strong enough to carry them and even if they were their lungs are to small to let them fly without provoking an asthma attack. They're even somehow shorter than Canary (who I believe is 5 nothing). Not only physically affected because of this and because they can't strengthen their wings (which is the only way to gain better control of half angel abilities), they also have no ability to control their half angel abilities. Each half angel does inherit some of their parent's abilities: Neer has an aura of fear and Jet will eventually be able to wield shadows as weapons. Robin-Rivers has the ability to hear secrets, hear what others keep hidden. But because they can't control this it manifests as voices in their head, voices that constantly whisper to them things that they don't want to know, more voices the more people and louder the more they want to keep it secret. These voices also only get louder when they try to tune them out, try to not listen. They don't have a choice but to listen. In cities this can be deafening and often painful, in bigger darker cities can even lead to them taking actual damage as their ears and sometimes eyes start bleeding as there's not quite a set radius to this ability, not one anyone knows yet at least. It's a dangerous and powerful ability they wish they could get rid of as it has multiple times led to them getting in trouble for knowing things they shouldn't or confusing what people told them and what the voices told them. This ability is so powerful they can actually know things the others don't sometimes. When they asked Canary what happened to her engagement ring she told them she threw it in the fire, and to her that was the truth, but Robin -Rivers could tell it wasn't. In truth she had given the ring to Aiden then had a modify memory spell (willingly) cast on her to keep her from remembering it. (Just a fun fact) Robin-Rivers currently find themselves most comfortable around people like Canary Tazd and Mairon, people who are open books and don't keep anything hidden, because they're quiet to the half angel, the voices don't scream around them. Meanwhile they're often found complaining each time Alistair and or Althaea are within range because "They're loud..."

Alright. One last tidbit of information about half angels! Angels of different gods actually can't touch each other without both being hurt by it, this was put in place by the gods to try and prevent fighting (which didn't work) and half angels inherited that. Sorta. In truth it's all about connection and intent. If they are fighting it will hurt or burn both of them. But if the half angels are close and trust each other and have no intent to hurt each other with the touching then it won't. Jet and Inari have been looking into this phenomenon recently but here's the answer.

And that's that! Half angels man. This was so much longer than I was planning... whoops. I just... I really like half angels.

[performanceroll-blog]

THE CROAKERS CAMPAIGN CHRONICLES CHARACTER INTRO #1.3 Ser Imatski It was a day as any other. Slaving away in the hot Wildemountian sun with nothing substantial to do was how most of his days went in the past few years.  Ser Imatski was a liutenant in the Draconian army and ever since the peace treaty with the Dwendalian Empire was signed, there have been no calls to arms. Most of his day was spent paying tribute in prayers to Bahamut and tending to his loyal steed. He loved that horse - maybe even as much as his diety. Horse-o, as he called him from when he was big enough to grow out of Horsey, had been serving him since he enlisted in the army as part of the Cavalier units.  The two of them had gone through many battles, and due to their practised teamwork, came out of most of them unscathed.  This was a day as any other - or so he thought.  The floating cities of Draconia were naturally protected from most attacks simply due to the fact that they were - well - floating sveral hundred feet above ground. It was no surprise that everyone was surprised when the warning bells started ringing througout the districts. One was rung right in the vicinity of the bar where Imatski was “paying tribute to Bahamut”. Rushing to his feet, gathering his sword and shield, he stormed out into the streets just in time to witness the reason for the ringing.  Even just exiting the building he noticed a significant sobering temperature drop, and if that weren’t enough, the sight of several people frozen solid right in the middle of the street immediately cleared his mind. A quick raise of the head revealed a giant white dragon soaring through the skies, blasting icy death with no discrimination.  Imatski jumped up on Horse-o and headed quickly towards his post where he would organize a local response to the threat. He didn’t get far though. One giant icicle broke off of an ice sculpture of a roof that was just hit by the dragon and landed in front of him grazing Horse-o on the way down. The horse yelped in pain as it instinctively threw Imatski back to protect him from the ice spike. Landing on his back, Imatski barely had the time to roll to one side of the street as he saw the dragon in the skies above him rearing to release another breath.  The horse was not so lucky. The injury severed a muscle tendon in his leg which left him slow to react and the last sight Horse-o saw before being encased in ice was of his master safely scurying to realtive safety. His duty was complete.  Imatski cried in pain for his mount. He would have rather lost an arm or leg - or both. He would have rather died himself than see his best friend die in front of him. Gathering to his feet, he ran towards the dragon, forgetting most of his training in a moment of pure hatred. A minute later he was stopped by what felt like an earthquake - which made no sense. There is no earth to quake in the floating cities. Such a thing was only to be felt down on the ground below - and then it hit him. The entire city was listing to one side, which could only mean one thing - Draconia was falling.  In all his time of service, Draconia was never threatened by an enemy force and now, with one attack, it was going to fall.  He looked around himself, still wiping tears from his eyes and seeing them freeze on his fingertips, and saw people encased in eternal frozen tombs, shattered pieces of buildings broken off from their original standings, he heard screams and cries for help, people running past him with desperation in their eyes. Contemplating the futility of his intended action, his loss of consciousness was preceeded only by a sudden scorching heat he felt at his back as an even larger red dragon darkened the sky above him.  A rough spear prod to his side woke him up as his consciousness came back to him. He layed on his other side beneath a pile of rubble with everything hurting from his ears to his feet. A quick glance over his body and the Tailless concluded that he was not long for this world.  “Leave him. Let him suffer the remaining time he has. He is not even worth the effort of putting a spear through him. And besides, it would only ease his suffering.”  The tailless Dragonborn were slaves in Draconia, working under the watchful eye of the military in the mines and fields beneath the floating cities. They were not a learned people and thus misdiagnosed Imatski’s condition. He was hurt but not dying.  Left alone on the ground, he took several moments to muster the strength to stand up. There were no more cities floating in the air. All around him debris and rubble, corpses and whatever else was left from the great Draconia. He was a soldier no longer. There was no army. There was no Horse-o. He started walking in a random direction with a blank mind - a mind scarred by by the events of the past day.  Some time later he found himself in the port city of Stilben on an entirely different continent. The time between the events of that day and his arrival to Stilben being a haze of alcohol and bad decisions, his conection with Bahamut all but lost, he found the nearest temple and asked for any work in exchange for food and a place to rest his head. The local church of Avandra was happy to take on another worker. Drowning his sorrow in booze, bad decisions and simple temple work, a few years had gone by before he thought to bring some order back to his life - just enough time for a few select individuals to also make their way to this small unassuming town. 

[quantumized-insanity]

Under Avandra’s Eyes Masterpost!

Pikar Invasion:

Chapter I: Disturbing News from Far Away - Marcus Chapter II: Ambush - Baldor Chapter III: Vixen - Iris Chapter IV: Answers - Thomas Chapter V: Before the Storm - Liza Chapter VI: Crimson Storm - Marcus Chapter VII: To Stem a Tide - Baldor Chapter VIII: To Tip a Balance - Iris Chapter IX: The Tide Turns Chapter X: Aftermath

Trouble Within: Chapter XI: A Kind of Home Chapter XII: Paladin Chapter XIII: Thoughts of Home Chapter XIV: Job Offer Chapter XV: The Red Lion Inn Chapter XVI: Roads South Chapter XVII: A Father’s Love Chapter XVIII: Iris’s Homecoming Chapter XIX: Thief of Virtue Chapter XX: Time and Tide Chapter XXI: Campfire Tales Chapter XXII: Choice of Jobs Chapter XXIII: From the Shadows Chapter XXIV: Where I Was… Chapter XXV: How Little We Knew Chapter XXVI: Father Chapter XXVII: Storms on the Horizon Chapter XXVIII: What’s in Your Heart? Chapter XXIX: Good Trouble Chapter XXX: Who I Was… Chapter XXXI: Approaching the City Chapter XXXII: Right of Judgement Chapter XXXIII: Common’s Wisdom

Useful Notes: Magic Systems Worldbuilding - Empire

[landofiolan]

The Gods

GODS OF GOOD / NEUTRAL ALIGNMENT 

Major Gods

Major gods carry the most sway and power over the realm. They stick to the astral plane to govern and watch over those they fought so hard to protect. 

Bahamut (LG)

Dragon god of Justice, Protection, Nobility and Honor.

Symbol is Dragon’s head in profile.

Followers of Bahamut are known to be men and woman of the law, protectors of justice

Bahamut is the most worshiped God in Erestrad. 

Ioun (N)

Goddess of knowledge, skill, and prophecy revered primarily by scholars, magic-users.

Symbol is a crooked stylized eye

Followers of Ioun are recognized by their white veils over their faces, bearing three purple eyes.

Ioun is one of the most worshipped gods in Maestra and Dracen. 

Kord (CG) 

God of the storm, strength and battle revered by warriors.

Symbol is a sword with a lighting cross guard.

Churches of Kord are built to withstand attack, and often hold a fighting ring for those to hold friendly spars, calling on the power of Kord. It is a common religious practice for his worshipers. 

Kord is one of the most worshiped in Oscon. 

Melora (NG/N)

Goddess of the wilderness and the sea.

Symbol is a seashell with a wavelike swirl

Churches of Melora are decorated in vines and flowers, and are often carved from the inside of large trees them selves in major cities. 

Melora is one of the most worshiped in Maestra. 

Pelor (NG)

God of the sun, summer, agriculture and time.

Symbol is a sun with an face in it

Clerics who follow under Pelor are known as The Radiant high up in the church.

Pelor is the most worshipped god in the country Athalya. 

MINOR GOOD / NEUTRAL GODS

Minor gods hold less power over the world, and are not bound by the chains of the astral plane. They have been known to walk the material plane and communicate with mortals, even forming close bonds with a few. 

Avandra / Avicus (CG)

Goddess/God of chance, luck, trade, travel

Usually invoked by traders and sailors who are carrying goods, as well as places of gambling. 

Half an smiling face(mask)ll symbol is three lines/waves.

Among the other gods, he is known as a trouble maker, often disregarding their laws on time spend in the material world, and their laws on relationships with mortals.

Often shows himself as a human with darker skin, and bright gold eyes adorned in simple jewelry and travelers clothes. 

Corellon (CG)

God of arcane magic, fate, spring and the arts revered primarily by elves and magic users. 

Symbol is a black starburst

Shows him self as a blind half-elven man, with pale almost blue skin and a shaved head.  

Erathis (LG)

Goddess of civilization and invention.

Symbol is upper half of a clockwork gear

Shows her self often as a dwarf, the gender varying from time to time, with fiery red hair and a beard. 

Sehanine (CG)

Goddess of trickery, love, moon and autumn.

Symbol is a crescent moon.

Presents her self on the mortal plane as a tanned elven woman, with shoulder length brown hair and purple eyes.  

The Raven Queen (N)

Goddess of death, fate, winter.

Symbol is a raven’s head in profile.

The Raven Queen is one of the only gods who has been mostly forgotten to time, due to her association with the theives guild The Raven Watch, and her association with death. Her followers where / are met with superstition. 

When she could, she showed her self in her human form, with a large black veil that covered her eyes, thin gold chains hanging from the mask/veil to her hands and around her shoulders. 

GODS OF EVIL

Major Gods

Dedication and worship to these gods is forbidden across each country in Vannarad. Any cults or churches found dedicated to them are destroyed as soon as possible, the fear around them never ending. All evil aligned gods are sealed away on multiple planes, unable to break their bindings on their own. 

Asmodeus (LE)

King of the Nine Hells and god of power, domination and tyranny.

Symbol is three triangles in tight formation.

Common worshipers of Asmodeus can be found in tieflings who have fallen back to their devilish roots, judgments surrounding tieflings have come from this. 

Bane (LE)

God of war and conquest

Claw with three talons facing down.

Worshipers of Bane are strangely common in Oscon, given it is a military driven state. His followers started as a splinter from the church of Kord who heard Bane’s whispers. 

Tiamat (CE)

Dragon goddess of wealth, greed, and vengeance.

Symbol is a five clawed star.

One of the most feared gods, no known churches to Tiamat exist. 

Vecna (NE)

God of undead, necromancy, and secrets.

Symbol is a eye in the palm of a hand.

Worshipers of Vecna speak in code, and members are often known as Whispers. Churches to him are often built under mountains, or isolated locations. 

Minor Gods

Tharizdun (CE)

Creator of the Abyss and god of annihilation and madness.

Symbol that is a spiral.

Does not present him self on the mortal plane, he has not been heard from for several ages, making his followers scarce. 

Zehir (NE)

God of lies, poison, and assassins revered by snakefolk.

Symbol is a snake that is in the shape of a dagger.

More of a powerful deity than a god, but enough followers in the ages to gain sway. 

Present in the swamps of where snakefolk live.  They have tried countless times to free him, but have been unsuccessful. 

Lolth (CE) 

Drow goddess of spiders, darkness and night.

Symbol is an skull in an cobweb.

The only god who has been freed from her prison in the Feywild. Though she is weak, part of her power still locked away and cannot escape the plane. Corellon watches over the plane for if she finally manages to break out her power. 

[windsroad]

Justice Vragic

Okay I was GOING to post this elsewhere and then link to it here but I really did not like any of my options. I tested the read more so it SHOULD work on mobile.

This is the extended version of my character Justice Vragic’s backstory! the ending is NOT super great, but it’s the best I could do.

...

The young tiefling stepped out of the shadows and cleared her throat. “I’d like to join you,” she said, her voice wavering only slightly.

Armida looked over her shoulder. The candlelight of the room glinted on the brass buckles and studs of her worn armor. “Senka, I appreciate how enthusiastic you’ve been, but this isn’t a task for children.” She didn’t speak unkindly; Armida left the distinct impression of wanting to protect, rather than condescend.

“I can help, I can do this,” came the reply. Her tail lashed about her feet in impatience. “I’m not a child—I’m nearly an adult.”

Armida cast a glance to her fellows, gathered around the low wooden table and its shabby map. Armida’s de-facto second-in-command, a half-elf named Rikard, very slightly shook his head.

“I’ve taken a name,” continued the tiefling. “A virtue name. We do that sometimes, as adults. It’s Justice.”

Armida sighed. Her eyes dragged over the rest of the party, stopping at Rikard. “What do you think, my friend?

Rikard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She can stay.”

Armida smiles brightly, turning back to Justice and extending her hand.

“Welcome to the operation.”

...

When Justice—then Senka—had first joined the Agents of Change, they were a group of like-minded individuals sharing their concerns. There was no grain. Their crops were taken and sold to the wealthy. The list of approved gods was cut to just five, then three. Books were removed from libraries. People went missing.

The senior members of the Agents were steadily more unsettled. The group took up a patron: Avandra, Goddess of Change and Freedom, and thoroughly illegal. They began talking of action.

Armida was one of the most spirited members of the group. She made the first move. Her brother had refused to sell crops to the guard, and in return his farm had been burned.

Armida had had enough. She was going to act. They planned to raid a warehouse and spread the grain throughout the commonfolk. Justice had to be a part of it.

...

The plan went off without a hitch. It was a rush. It had been Justice’s job to draw the guards away long enough for Armida and her people to go in and out. It was easy enough—Justice had always been able to do a little minor magic, and it was sufficient to scare away the guard.

They came back to their hideout with sacks of grain, breathing heavy in the brisk night air. After that, it seemed only natural to keep going.

Things continued to go well for a while. But no one could deny how things steadily escalated. Stealing grain became stealing gold. Smuggling messages became smuggling people. Became holding private services to outlawed gods. Became breaking people out of jails.

It was when things advanced to arson that they all know it had gotten out of hand.

The arson was not, technically, something that was intended. The mission was supposed to be simple, similar to their very first mission. Breaking into a warehouse and stealing barrels full of supplies.

This time things did not go as well. A guard none of them had noticed accosted them as they tried to leave. There didn’t seem a way around him without going to blows. When he snatched at Justice, she snapped back with a snarl in Infernal. Th guard caught fire, and so did the barrel.

Whatever was in it was not grain.

The barrel exploded, injuring most of the party, the guard, and setting the building on fire.

They ran as fast as they could, injured as many of them were. As the fire spread, many more of the barrels exploded, leaving the warehouse a wreck behind them.

From then on, things got scary fast.

...

Rikard leaned over the table, his eyes tired and shadowed. “We can’t keep this up,” he said, shaking his head. “They’ve declared open war!”

A few other members nodded in the background. One had had his eyebrow burned off, Justice noticed guiltily. Fire didn’t affect Justice much, but an exploding piece of barrel had left a gash across her own face.

Armida paced back and forth, casting long, distorted shadows on the wall behind her. “But, don’t you see—now everyone knows we’re doing something.”

“That’s the problem,” said Rikard flatly.

“No—this. This is good.” Her eyes caught the light. Her left cheek had been burned, and it gave her expression a sharp look. “People are already expressing interest. We can draw in more numbers.”

 “More people?” asked Dorothea, a halfling woman. She had joined early on, soon after worship of Yondalla was restricted. “What will we do with more people?”

“They want a war,” said Armida, pausing and raising her eyebrows, “so we give them a war.”

Rikard threw his hands up in the air.

“Listen, listen!” said Armida. She put her hands up to calm Rikard. “We can do this. If this works, we can start a real rebellion. We can make change.”

They all sat and stewed in their thoughts. Justice watched them all from the barrel she sat on in the corner. She was a member, but she was not as fully a member as the rest of the group. A kid, a sidekick, rather than a voting, decision-making adult.

Justice sat too, curled up in her cloak, staring hard at the floor. “I know this is all my fault,” she said, breaking the silence. “And I’m in. If something good can come from it, then I’m in.”

They all turned to face her. Their expressions ranged from surprised, to annoyed, to simply tired. Rikard rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

Armida smiled a wicked smile, pulling at the scar on her cheek.

Justice shook from nerves. She held her cloak tighter to hide it. “I think we can do this. I want a better home for my parents. And my brothers and sister. If we can make any progress, just a little bit, it’ll be better.”

Petro, a tired looking human man, sighed from where he sat at the table. “I might know some people,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “They might like to join.”

“I can get us more supplies,” said a gnome.

“What would this even look like?” asked Rikard. “Do we march up to a hill on a planned date and just start killing guard?”

“We keep doing what we’re doing,” explained Armida. “But when people come to stop us, we fight back.”

...

As time went on, the members of the Agents of Change became more fervently devoted to Armida and her cause. Justice was among them. She had always admired their leader, but Armida’s charisma drew Justice and others in like a planet around a sun.

But as devotion went up, so did dissent. Armida had good intentions, but the missions strained people. Real armed conflicts. They lost people. Armida said it was all in service of freedom.

Rikard was quiet at meetings.

Justice was just coming into their meeting place through a backdoor when she heard them talking.

“We can’t keep going like this!” whispered Rikard harshly.

Justice crept through the door and peered down the hallway.

“I know you have your reservations, Rikard, you always have.” Armida did not lower her voice. She spoke in the same timbre as she would to a crowd. “Keep on. We’re making some real headway.”

“Headway? Who are we even helping anymore? The people we’ve gotten killed, were they helped?” Rikard was getting more agitated, but he lowered his voice once again. Justice moved closer to hear him, hiding just outside the room where they were speaking. “You knew there wasn’t grain in those barrels. Explosives. And you didn’t tell anyone on that mission.”

Armida clapped Rikard’s back. “It may not seem like it now, but when we liberate the whole area, things will improve for everyone.”

Rikard took a step back. “Thinking you can take them on is folly. Risking everyone’s lives. I was never here for that… You’re going to get yourselves killed.”

Rikard briskly walked away, too quickly for Justice to hide. Rikard left the room and met face-to-face with Justice.

They paused for a moment, looking each other in the eye but saying nothing. Finally Rikard looked down and strode out of the building.

“He will be back, Justice,” said Armida. Justice hadn’t realized Armida knew she was there. “He just needs time to think.”

Justice thought Armida was trying to convince herself as much as she was Justice.

It was weeks before they saw Rikard again.

...

The Agents of Change were about to go out on a mission in the small hours of the morning. A few of them, Justice among them, were getting together packs for their mission from the storage room. Then the raid came. 

The sound of doors bursting open rang throughout the building. Heavy footfalls. Sooner than any of them could react, guards were swarming the meeting house. As quietly as Justice knew how, she moved as close as she dared to see what was happening.

Armida took in the situation as a number of armed guards flooded the small planning room. While her fellows moved to draw blades, Armida remained calm.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, lifting her hands up into the air.

One guard, clearly the highest officer by his armor, moved forward. “Are you Armida Caito?”

“Who’s asking?”

The guard shifted his feet and gave Armida a withering look. “Armida Caito and her agents are hereby under arrest for conspiracy against the empire, breaking and entering, theft, smuggling, and arson.”

“Is that all…” Armida muttered. She looked the guard in the eye. “I haven’t seen her. Better get looking.”

The captain rolled his eyes and motioned for someone else to enter. “This her, Lord?”

Rikard stepped in, wearing nicer clothes than she’d ever seen him wear. Velvet, some furs.

What was Rikard doing in clothes like that?

Why was the guard captain calling him lord?

The pieces wouldn’t fit together in her mind.

There was a palpable silence as Armida and Rikard stared.

“Rikard,” said Armida.

“Yes, that’s her,” he answered coldly.

Armida didn’t move. She stood dumbfounded as a guard grabbed her arms and began chaining them behind her.

...

Justice ran—she hid away the next whole week waiting for it all to blow over. But the calm never came. She watched as the few contacts she had left slowly disappeared, as posters with the remaining members’ faces—including her own—went up, as increased guard marched through the streets to root out all rebellion.

She’d heard no word of Armida. No public execution was announced.

Rikard knew all their faces. He knew their hideouts, their names, their families. Justice had never lived outside of the Commoda Empire. She’d never lived away from Glaseum, the capital city. As Justice stowed away on a ship to somewhere—she didn’t know where, just anywhere—it was all she could hope that the guard would leave her family alone.