Infab
The Demon Fanatic
1
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Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening
- Thread starter K0mori
- Start date
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
1
joshuadim
the writer
1
hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
2
bat_hacker
Junior Member
1
turtwigwins
Junior Member
1
rpg.veteran
gakusei
2
dikdik
colossal leaf and prince of the universe
2 
Agree with Wag
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
Option 1: 6 Votes (67% - Range: 1-67)
Option 2: 3 Votes (33% - Range: 68-100)
Fae Roll: 19
"Look," you say with enough intensity to break Agranne's attention away from her wayward circle. "I don't want to be in charge of the march into the canyon. I know you had your reasons for picking me to lead them - and they weren't bad ones - but that's not how the circle is going to see it, and if you refuse to budge, here, it's only going to get worse."
Agranne turns to you, her tail sticking straight up in indignation. Her eyes betray the anxiety she's feeling beneath it, however. "...Is this because we had to retreat from Enthaan?" she asks quietly. "I could have fought the royalists, but it was them I was looking out for, they were exhausted-"
"It's not that," you reply, firmly. "They all know they couldn't have won against the Duke's Army, given their lack of rest. Hells, they're still tired, Agranne, and the odds are even longer, now, since all we'll have is the element of surprise in Thandan. The stakes are really, really high, they're scared, and you went around your most powerful pact member to put me in charge while you're gone. Agranne, we need to give Veralt and Corrinth more credit than we've been giving them. They want to win this thing as much as we do, and that's all the circle sees."
She closes her eyes and rubs them. "I'm tired, too," she admits. "I wish they'd just listen to me. But you're right... if the coven organized itself by likability, then Corrinth never would've been the elder of Tashlaan. So what do I do?"
"Reconvene the pact circle and tell Veralt that you made a mistake," you reply, knowing that if you're anything less than blunt, it'll only be a disservice.
Agranne shakes her head. "...No."
"Do it," you insist, "and be honest with him about why you bypassed him before. No excuses."
This time, her indignity is genuine, and she looks ready to snap at you. Before she can, you get a fae impulse and snatch her hat off her head, leaving her in total shock at your words and behavior. "Wha... A- Are you okay?" she asks, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
You pet the cat.
"It's gonna be alright, Agranne," you say as you ruffle her hair and try not to laugh. The tinge of madness in your brain is usually inconvenient in its timing - almost unbearably so. But right now, it's perfectly on cue. Agranne can't keep a straight face either, and begins to break as she tries to push your hand away and get her hat back.
"Okay, okay..." she says, still giggling. "I'll call for the others. If I put Veralt in charge, though, will you still want to travel in the canyon, or...?"
You shake your head indifferently. "It doesn't really matter where I go," you reply. "If I'm not in charge of anything, I'm just one witch - they're not going to miss me. Plus, maybe if it's just a few of us and they don't know we're, uh, ya know... Maybe we can just stop by a tavern somewhere and get some good food? It's been a while since I've had a good, hot meal..."
But you have plenty of strength as well. Each time your strength was tested by those who would go on to mentor you, you mirrored the techniques which were used against you. Corrinth attempted to compel you, and so you compelled yourself into breaking free. When Diala did the same, you tried to repeat your earlier success, but found that her pneuma was stronger than yours, and her skill in compulsion was deft enough to require little of her raw strength to sustain, regardless. However, you had another thought on that terrible day, one which you didn't pursue. What if you had tried something other than compulsion to resist her?
Perhaps you could have attacked Diala in a way she didn't see coming. Maybe, if you had kept her distracted long enough, you could have taken the door and escaped from the sanitorium, and then spent the following two years on the run, but free. Sadly, it would have prevented you from truly getting to know Embryx, but maybe you'd have been able to keep enough of your innocence to restart a peaceful life somewhere else. Brushing these wistful thoughts aside, you now realize that your magical arsenal is quite full; if Veralt wishes to test you with sophisticated compulsion, you could engulf him in enchanted flame. You could teleport away from him to break his concentration. You could use telekinesis to stretch his limbs to the point of agony...
There are many things you could do. But the point is, you wouldn't need to fight his battle, unless, of course, you're entirely wrong and you should fear Veralt. In which case, Embryx has possibly saved your life again. You break loose from these thoughts and address the circle.
"Sisters," you say, before looking Veralt in the eyes, "brother, I was speaking to Embryx a moment ago and I want to say that I made the wrong decision. You were right; I didn't give you permission to lead the circle in my absence because of my history with Corrinth. I... I don't understand what sort of chemistry is between you two - and it's none of my business, really - but the fact is, you came here, I made you my pact brother, and you've fought beside me ever since. I was unfair to you. I'm sorry."
Veralt's expression softens considerably as you speak, a mixture of surprise and relief on his face. He turns to Corrinth, who seems rather annoyed with your continuous mockery of their relationship, but she nonetheless consents to being compelled to speak on his behalf.
"I don't speak with people at length very often," he says via his surrogate. "In the past, I've relied on the crows, but Corrinth is the first to let me speak freely, and without judgement. She's special to me. When all of this is over, and Turadal is a haven for witchcraft, I hope that you'll forgive her for what happened between you two before, and allow us to live in peace," he explains gently.
He doesn't address the issue of the canyon, suggesting that his problem with you really was the lack of respect you had shown him and the others. With everyone in kinder spirits, you're about to go your separate ways, but considering that you had just spent the prior few minutes imagining all the ways you could agonize or kill Veralt if you needed to, you get the distinct feeling that something is very wrong with you. You haven't just been picking up Corrinth's old behaviors, you're acting more like Diala - relying on fear and intimidation to get your way, even in disregard of the coven's normal practices. The gruesome glee with which you threatened to turn their skin into a canoe if they harmed your love now feels eerily like one of the nasty threats the half-elf would have lobbed at you or your sisters before...
"I'm going to go with Agranne, by the way," Embryx states. "It's nothing against you two, really. I just-"
Corrinth interrupts. "Literally everyone understands, it's fine," she says, smiling while rolling her eyes.
You look to the other pact sisters and see that they're in higher spirits than you've seen them since that first victory in the woods. You dismiss them back to their business and walk away with Embryx, Jannava, and Stalna. Apparently, you're the only one with uneasiness inside. If Diala hadn't been such a terrible person, she'd be alive right now. You might have even been friends. But she lived badly and died worse.
1. Let's Go Find a Tavern - Embryx was right; some good, warm food from a joyful place sounds really good right now. Until you got out onto the campaign like this, you felt as though you were forgetting the joy of a proper meal in the face of all the dark, sadistic glee you feel for your violent acts. But lately, you've had more than your fill of bloodshed while your stomach has been hurting like it used to, back in Zuklanar. Maybe you need to work on finding a balance. You decide that some of your time spent in Manlaash will be with Embryx alone at the tavern, like you wanted all along.
2. Heavy is the Head - The Pandemonium Door in your pocket pokes at you a bit through the fabric. You're reminded that if the necromancers in your party are going to accomplish anything of use tonight, they'll all need access to it. Sneaking off to get a meal with Embryx sounds like it would make you feel less anxious about everything, but you'd have to leave the Door behind... Would you give it to Jannava, in that case? No... It's a bad idea to let it out of your sight.
Option 2: 3 Votes (33% - Range: 68-100)
Fae Roll: 19
"Look," you say with enough intensity to break Agranne's attention away from her wayward circle. "I don't want to be in charge of the march into the canyon. I know you had your reasons for picking me to lead them - and they weren't bad ones - but that's not how the circle is going to see it, and if you refuse to budge, here, it's only going to get worse."
Agranne turns to you, her tail sticking straight up in indignation. Her eyes betray the anxiety she's feeling beneath it, however. "...Is this because we had to retreat from Enthaan?" she asks quietly. "I could have fought the royalists, but it was them I was looking out for, they were exhausted-"
"It's not that," you reply, firmly. "They all know they couldn't have won against the Duke's Army, given their lack of rest. Hells, they're still tired, Agranne, and the odds are even longer, now, since all we'll have is the element of surprise in Thandan. The stakes are really, really high, they're scared, and you went around your most powerful pact member to put me in charge while you're gone. Agranne, we need to give Veralt and Corrinth more credit than we've been giving them. They want to win this thing as much as we do, and that's all the circle sees."
She closes her eyes and rubs them. "I'm tired, too," she admits. "I wish they'd just listen to me. But you're right... if the coven organized itself by likability, then Corrinth never would've been the elder of Tashlaan. So what do I do?"
"Reconvene the pact circle and tell Veralt that you made a mistake," you reply, knowing that if you're anything less than blunt, it'll only be a disservice.
Agranne shakes her head. "...No."
"Do it," you insist, "and be honest with him about why you bypassed him before. No excuses."
This time, her indignity is genuine, and she looks ready to snap at you. Before she can, you get a fae impulse and snatch her hat off her head, leaving her in total shock at your words and behavior. "Wha... A- Are you okay?" she asks, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
You pet the cat.
"It's gonna be alright, Agranne," you say as you ruffle her hair and try not to laugh. The tinge of madness in your brain is usually inconvenient in its timing - almost unbearably so. But right now, it's perfectly on cue. Agranne can't keep a straight face either, and begins to break as she tries to push your hand away and get her hat back.
"Okay, okay..." she says, still giggling. "I'll call for the others. If I put Veralt in charge, though, will you still want to travel in the canyon, or...?"
You shake your head indifferently. "It doesn't really matter where I go," you reply. "If I'm not in charge of anything, I'm just one witch - they're not going to miss me. Plus, maybe if it's just a few of us and they don't know we're, uh, ya know... Maybe we can just stop by a tavern somewhere and get some good food? It's been a while since I've had a good, hot meal..."
---
Based on Embryx's advice, you gather up the pact circle again and prepare to issue an apology to Veralt. It's going to be a rough few minutes of conversation, but the drow was right; had she not caught you and disarmed you with a bit of clowning, you might have started an argument or even a fight to see just how strong Veralt actually is. You have a theory, one you've been stewing on since you departed your camp this morning, that Veralt isn't as strong as he makes himself out to be. Sure, he can use compulsion more artfully than anyone you've ever met, and he can also break anima into necros at will.
But you have plenty of strength as well. Each time your strength was tested by those who would go on to mentor you, you mirrored the techniques which were used against you. Corrinth attempted to compel you, and so you compelled yourself into breaking free. When Diala did the same, you tried to repeat your earlier success, but found that her pneuma was stronger than yours, and her skill in compulsion was deft enough to require little of her raw strength to sustain, regardless. However, you had another thought on that terrible day, one which you didn't pursue. What if you had tried something other than compulsion to resist her?
Perhaps you could have attacked Diala in a way she didn't see coming. Maybe, if you had kept her distracted long enough, you could have taken the door and escaped from the sanitorium, and then spent the following two years on the run, but free. Sadly, it would have prevented you from truly getting to know Embryx, but maybe you'd have been able to keep enough of your innocence to restart a peaceful life somewhere else. Brushing these wistful thoughts aside, you now realize that your magical arsenal is quite full; if Veralt wishes to test you with sophisticated compulsion, you could engulf him in enchanted flame. You could teleport away from him to break his concentration. You could use telekinesis to stretch his limbs to the point of agony...
There are many things you could do. But the point is, you wouldn't need to fight his battle, unless, of course, you're entirely wrong and you should fear Veralt. In which case, Embryx has possibly saved your life again. You break loose from these thoughts and address the circle.
"Sisters," you say, before looking Veralt in the eyes, "brother, I was speaking to Embryx a moment ago and I want to say that I made the wrong decision. You were right; I didn't give you permission to lead the circle in my absence because of my history with Corrinth. I... I don't understand what sort of chemistry is between you two - and it's none of my business, really - but the fact is, you came here, I made you my pact brother, and you've fought beside me ever since. I was unfair to you. I'm sorry."
Veralt's expression softens considerably as you speak, a mixture of surprise and relief on his face. He turns to Corrinth, who seems rather annoyed with your continuous mockery of their relationship, but she nonetheless consents to being compelled to speak on his behalf.
"I don't speak with people at length very often," he says via his surrogate. "In the past, I've relied on the crows, but Corrinth is the first to let me speak freely, and without judgement. She's special to me. When all of this is over, and Turadal is a haven for witchcraft, I hope that you'll forgive her for what happened between you two before, and allow us to live in peace," he explains gently.
He doesn't address the issue of the canyon, suggesting that his problem with you really was the lack of respect you had shown him and the others. With everyone in kinder spirits, you're about to go your separate ways, but considering that you had just spent the prior few minutes imagining all the ways you could agonize or kill Veralt if you needed to, you get the distinct feeling that something is very wrong with you. You haven't just been picking up Corrinth's old behaviors, you're acting more like Diala - relying on fear and intimidation to get your way, even in disregard of the coven's normal practices. The gruesome glee with which you threatened to turn their skin into a canoe if they harmed your love now feels eerily like one of the nasty threats the half-elf would have lobbed at you or your sisters before...
"I'm going to go with Agranne, by the way," Embryx states. "It's nothing against you two, really. I just-"
Corrinth interrupts. "Literally everyone understands, it's fine," she says, smiling while rolling her eyes.
You look to the other pact sisters and see that they're in higher spirits than you've seen them since that first victory in the woods. You dismiss them back to their business and walk away with Embryx, Jannava, and Stalna. Apparently, you're the only one with uneasiness inside. If Diala hadn't been such a terrible person, she'd be alive right now. You might have even been friends. But she lived badly and died worse.
1. Let's Go Find a Tavern - Embryx was right; some good, warm food from a joyful place sounds really good right now. Until you got out onto the campaign like this, you felt as though you were forgetting the joy of a proper meal in the face of all the dark, sadistic glee you feel for your violent acts. But lately, you've had more than your fill of bloodshed while your stomach has been hurting like it used to, back in Zuklanar. Maybe you need to work on finding a balance. You decide that some of your time spent in Manlaash will be with Embryx alone at the tavern, like you wanted all along.
2. Heavy is the Head - The Pandemonium Door in your pocket pokes at you a bit through the fabric. You're reminded that if the necromancers in your party are going to accomplish anything of use tonight, they'll all need access to it. Sneaking off to get a meal with Embryx sounds like it would make you feel less anxious about everything, but you'd have to leave the Door behind... Would you give it to Jannava, in that case? No... It's a bad idea to let it out of your sight.
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
2
Infab
The Demon Fanatic
1
joshuadim
the writer
1
hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
1
bat_hacker
Junior Member
2
rpg.veteran
gakusei
2
turtwigwins
Junior Member
1
dikdik
colossal leaf and prince of the universe
2
Let's Go Find a Tavern
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
The vote is tied - DEALER'S CHOICE:
You take a breath and relax in your saddle. "...Jannava, Stalna, is everyone ready?" you ask them, and once you're given the affirmative, you nod and give the order to ride out. With a final round of salutes between the two parties, you trot on ahead and lead your pact sisters and an accompaniment of two dozen necromancers eastward down the hill in the direction of Manlaash, while Corrinth cries out excitedly to the masses you're leaving behind to follow Veralt into the canyon to the north.
The thumping of hooves and feet on the grass dies down as the army parts and leaves you with a more manageable circle to oversee, and soon, you're back on level ground and surrounded by wet, mushy swampland on both sides. The going immediately becomes more difficult, as even the dry ground is snaked with roots and freezing cold puddles of dirty, standing water, and the witches in your midst - already the gloomy sorts who tend to spend their free time in graveyards, begin to fret about all of their various discomforts. One in particular approaches you to complain about blisters and bleeding from her feet, which you realize are clad in rope-soled shoes which are totally inaccurate for such a march. You give her your horse to ride on as you levitate yourself, feeling ashamed that you hadn't thought of it before.
The sun begins to set as the gray day falls to an eerily still twilight, as even the insects which normally buzz incessantly in places like these seem to be struggling with the cold. Only the lone cawing of a crow accompanies you for most of the march. You can only imagine that winter will soon be setting in, and how these trails that cut through the brush of the swamps will become virtually impassable to all but the most prepared. It takes hours, but mercifully, the ground begins to relent - smoothing out slightly before you suddenly reach a ditch cut into the earth by mortal hands. With a jump, your witches and their horses each clear the gap to find themselves on a lonesome roadway - one which connects Manlaash back to Enthaan behind you.
Having now fully bypassed the city which you had previously abandoned, the circle's spirits improve just enough to finish the arduous trek to the village you were told about. Manlaash, as explained, is situated near a large mound called Goldenrod Hill, and even in the moonlight you can see the shimmering yellow flowers bobbing in the wind. Much like Tashlaan, Ryggander, and other small towns you've seen, the village ahead of you has no walls or towers, and is probably only guarded by watchmen who patrol the streets on foot to discourage thievery, as opposed to being a defensive force.
You set yourself down on the ground to re-familiarize yourself with walking, and then approach Jannava and Stalna to make sure you're on the same page: "Take everyone to Goldenrod Hill and occupy the church. Kill anyone who gets close, and raise the bodies. Don't let anyone raise the alarm," you instruct them as you offer up the Pandemonium Door. As much as you don't want to let it out of your sight, Jannava is the only one besides Embryx that you feel like you can fully trust for the moment, which is an incredible thought considering that she tried to kill you with lightning just a few days ago.
Jannava takes up the artifact and nods, grimly. "I'm guessing you have some other business to take care of?" she asks, tiredly.
You lean in and explain quietly so that the lesser witches in your midst don't catch wind of the small luxury you're allowing yourself. "...Embryx and I are going to get some dinner at the tavern - just the two of us. When we're done, we'll trade you out so you and Stalna can go. Nobody knows us, and if we all act natural, we can get a real good plate of food in us before we depart tomorrow."
Jannava blinks, apparently surprised at the idea. "You know, normally, I'd prefer if you'd stay on task, but I think we can spare some time to eat. The rest of the circle can eat the rations they brought along from Enthaan; there's still enough. They can cook in the church once we're done setting up, and before they get their hands dirty," she adds with a hint of morbid humor. "...Once you've gotten your fill, meet us in the graveyard and I'll give you back the Door."
You nod. "If a large force arrives for any reason, use lightning to signal us," you add, realizing that the incident you recalled a moment earlier suggests a useful course of action in an emergency. "...Hells, just use lightning in general."
"Got it," she answers.
"See you soon," you say, to which Jannava merely smiles in acknowledgement. Stalna gives a more enthusiastic salute as she returns to the necromancers to get them prepared to enter the darkened church and eradicate anyone lingering around after dark. You and Embryx leave your distinctive hats with your hitched horses and simply... walk into town, just like you would have done a week or two ago.
There aren't many people about, as the weather is bitterly, bitingly cold, and the moment your hand meets the solid doors of the tavern you can feel the warmth from within and a longing within yourself for the sorts of creature comforts you abandoned in your unquenchable thirst for vengeance. They had seemed so trivial for a time, when Diala had taken away all of your personal choices and made you nothing but a puppet. Now, as you lead Embryx inside by the hand, you feel as if you've stepped into a portrait of the life you've secretly longed for since you were a child. The small number of patrons in this sleepy establishment barely look at you as you make your way to a small, empty table and seat yourselves.
A moment later, footsteps get your attention to an approaching barman. "Evening, ladies!" the older, bald-headed proprietor greets as he comes back from the kitchen. "Welcome to Manlaash. My name is Rubol - owner of this establishment, cook, and your humble servant for the evening. It's getting dark out there. Were you planning on settling in for the night?" he asks. "We've got a bunkroom with plenty of open beds, you know."
Embryx takes the lead in providing a cover story, as she often did when you two were enforcers for Diala. She chuckles and shakes her head. "...No sir, but thank you. Rigatte and I are just passing through, and we've got arrangements waiting for us elsewhere."
Rigatte...? Looks like you're using pseudonyms, for now.
"Oh?" the bartender says with a smile. "Well, it's cold out there, so how can I help keep you warm tonight? We have a good roast pig and quite a lot of ale..."
You place a couple of silver coins on the bar top. "Sharyx and I have been traveling all day long," you answer plainly. "We'll take two plates of food, and if it's good... two more," you add with a smile.
He beams at the payment and thanks you before pocketing the coins and promising to return shortly. Now that you're alone, Embryx reaches out across the table and lays her palms out for you, and you rest your hands in hers, gazing into her eyes until you've both had enough of the tense silence - the good type - and break into a giggle. "I'm sorry," she whispers, "your sister's name is all I could think of."
"Yeah, well you got your name from a nightmare," you reply before leaning back and fully relaxing. After another few seconds of thinking up what to say, you break the silence again. "I'm glad you didn't go with them," you admit. "I'd have missed you and worried for you the entire time you were gone."
Rubol arrives with the food and drinks on a large tray and sets them out between you. It's an excellent spread; it's been months since you last a had a meal this nice, as the sanitarium rarely served anything this appealing, nor did Diala allow you to spend recklessly while you were on the road. You thank Rubol and take a ginger sip of the ale as he walks, off before digging in rather eagerly. Embryx does the same, and only after you slow down does she acknowledge what you had said.
"And I'm glad you chose to listen to me, even though you were complaining about the others not listening..." she says with a sigh. But a moment later, she says something a lot more important, something which you weren't expecting to hear:
"You care a lot more than you think you do."
You cock your head a bit. "What do you mean?"
"...A few nights ago, you told me that you dream about people - your friends and family, I mean - suffering. And you said it was because She wants you to see it, but I have a different idea, Agranne. I think you see people suffering because it's in your heart of hearts to care, and care so deeply for the people you love that your nightmares drive you to move this whole world just to spare them the pain. Nytha told you a long time ago that she thought that all that anger you carry around was just a need to avenge yourself, but I think it's more about the rest of us than it's ever been about you."
You find yourself a bit misty-eyed by the end of her explanation. While a beautiful thought - a selflessness so profound that you yourself are blind to it - there's simply no way you can accept it after the horrible things you've done. At best it would be a contradiction, but at worst, it would mean that you can't express your love without harming others, and in the most twisted and evil of ways, at that.
You deny it: "Love doesn't disguise itself as the things I've done."
"No, it doesn't," she agrees. "I never said it was only about protecting us. You're a mortal like the rest of us, and you get angry, and heartbroken, and jealous like anyone else. But I also know that if the world was kinder, and we didn't have to fight for our place in it, you wouldn't be fighting at all, and neither would I. So, I don't know how long it's going to take to make this a world where you can finally relax - where the poor get the help they need, and the clergy and the nobles are righteous, Rigatte's back, and I'm safe and happy... but I'm going to stay by your side the whole way - no matter how bloody and weird and awful it gets sometimes."
"But that last dream I had," you argue, still hung up on the notion that even your nightly visions are actually phantasms of your own imagination, borne of unchecked care for others, "I didn't know that girl. Why would I have dreamed about branding her soul, the way I did?" you ask, whispering.
Embryx doesn't seem phased by the question at all as she answers in a whisper of her own: "maybe serving Her is your greatest fear, Agranne, because you think that She's the only one who could turn you against against us."
Your mouth hangs open for a moment as you realize that everything Embryx just said makes sense. Knowing how Syrith's power and influence has shaped your life so far, it's never been far from your mind how much you owe her for the things you've accomplished, the people you've met, and the love you now have with Embryx. If Syrith were to change her mind, how quickly would it all come crashing down? And so your nightmares, shaped by your past failures and premised on the suffering of your loved ones, have escalated to a generalized fear of one final, terrible ending: one in which you lose them all.
"If- If that's the truth," you stammer, "then I don't even know if I ever really saw Rigatte."
Embryx hesitates a moment, as she sees the pain in your eyes. But then an idea strikes her and she replies: "You didn't dream about her that night. You were awake."
"...And I was enervated when I came back to tell Corrinth and Ika..." you continue the thought, realizing that your efforts to sustain yourself beyond death must have happened as you remember it. Feeling as if you're back on solid ground, you nod and give a smile, although you want to cry, unsure of how many supposedly meaningful and life-altering visions you've had since joining the coven which are totally fabricated. She offers a hand to you, and you take it and squeeze. "One more fight, and then we leave," you promise her. "I'll get my truth about Rigatte, and then I'll let the rest of it go."
You lay down your fork after stuffing down the last bite of potatoes, feeling utterly bloated from your second plate. The room is nearly empty now as a few more patrons have gone to bed, and all that remains is to pay for the other half of your meal. Footsteps approach your table and so you look up, expecting to find Rubol, but instead a woman in a very classy and expensive-looking hooded cloak greets you.
"Hello," she says. "You wouldn't happen to be Agranne of Ryggander, would you?"
You simply stare at her intently. If she recognizes you, she must be with the coven. If she isn't, then she wouldn't have come alone. Either way, she'll have hell to pay for interrupting this quiet moment you've shared with your love.
"...I apologize for interrupting your dinner, but if you would accompany me for a short walk, I would be quite indebted to you."
Looking to Embryx, you give a slight nod as if to say that you should both leave quietly, in order to not cause a scene. Although worried, she seems to understand, and you turn and reply to the stranger that you'll meet her outside. You put three more silver coins onto the table and then stand to leave, causing the strange intruder to give a quick and stilted bow before hurrying out the door.
As you step outside, you're amazed to see the first few flakes of snow for the season have already begun to fall. The cloaked woman is waiting for you here, just outside the tavern door, and she removes her hood. She's a half-elf with long, brown hair, with an absolutely gorgeous amulet around her neck - on it: the seal of House Barlan - the Royal Family of Turadal.
"How do you know me?" you demand. "How did you know I'd be here!?"
She quickly holds up her hands to calm you. "Please don't hurt me - I'm alone. I'm Princess Silanae... Duke Vallen is my husband, and I know you spared him from death."
"He must've told her the whole story," Embryx says.
Silanae nods. "Not... willingly, however," she elaborates. "You see, I'm... Well, I'm also a witch myself. But you see, I belong to the Pfaldlander Coven. We're not so common as Lythrefang-"
"You're the first we've met," you reply, hotly. "Answer my questions and then give your introduction, or you won't be spared."
"...I put Vallen under a spell. He told me about you, what you did, and how you tricked his army... and then I sent out crows in search of you," she states, slowly turning her finger around to reveal that one of her rings is a magical implement. "As soon as I knew you were headed here, I rode out after you. I was hoping to make a deal with you."
You calm yourself. "...What is it?"
"If you and your army go to Thandan, and if you confront the King... Please kill him, and kill my brother and my sister along the way. My husband and I would inherit the throne, and I can make sure that the Kingdom will work hand-in-hand with Lythrefang. ...And I'll abandon Pfaldlander and join you myself."
Embryx questions her: "Why even join Pfaldlander in the first place? It's useless! You don't even have circles!"
"That was the entire point," Silanae replies. "I never thought that Lythrefang would have its day, so I joined an order of witches to which I owe no loyalty - my only oath is to my god, Fallof. Through other independent practitioners of the dark arts, I've learned plenty, but there was never any aim but for our individual success. And given that I've had no chance to do the deed myself and guarantee my ascent, I've come looking for you."
1. Induct - "If you want us to work with you, then go into the swamp and speak to Syrith," you reply, still feeling an overwhelming distrust for this blue-blooded aristocrat and everything she represents. "You can become my sister tonight, or remain my enemy."
2. Dismiss - "...Go home to your husband," you reply. "I'm not a killer for hire, and I don't intend to wipe out the royal family - only to make them bend the knee."
3. Kill - "You shouldn't have done that," you reply. "If you were a kind and charitable soul, I'd have agreed. But you're too selfish to even join a coven that's worth a damn. You don't offer this world anything worthwhile, do you?"
You take a breath and relax in your saddle. "...Jannava, Stalna, is everyone ready?" you ask them, and once you're given the affirmative, you nod and give the order to ride out. With a final round of salutes between the two parties, you trot on ahead and lead your pact sisters and an accompaniment of two dozen necromancers eastward down the hill in the direction of Manlaash, while Corrinth cries out excitedly to the masses you're leaving behind to follow Veralt into the canyon to the north.
The thumping of hooves and feet on the grass dies down as the army parts and leaves you with a more manageable circle to oversee, and soon, you're back on level ground and surrounded by wet, mushy swampland on both sides. The going immediately becomes more difficult, as even the dry ground is snaked with roots and freezing cold puddles of dirty, standing water, and the witches in your midst - already the gloomy sorts who tend to spend their free time in graveyards, begin to fret about all of their various discomforts. One in particular approaches you to complain about blisters and bleeding from her feet, which you realize are clad in rope-soled shoes which are totally inaccurate for such a march. You give her your horse to ride on as you levitate yourself, feeling ashamed that you hadn't thought of it before.
The sun begins to set as the gray day falls to an eerily still twilight, as even the insects which normally buzz incessantly in places like these seem to be struggling with the cold. Only the lone cawing of a crow accompanies you for most of the march. You can only imagine that winter will soon be setting in, and how these trails that cut through the brush of the swamps will become virtually impassable to all but the most prepared. It takes hours, but mercifully, the ground begins to relent - smoothing out slightly before you suddenly reach a ditch cut into the earth by mortal hands. With a jump, your witches and their horses each clear the gap to find themselves on a lonesome roadway - one which connects Manlaash back to Enthaan behind you.
Having now fully bypassed the city which you had previously abandoned, the circle's spirits improve just enough to finish the arduous trek to the village you were told about. Manlaash, as explained, is situated near a large mound called Goldenrod Hill, and even in the moonlight you can see the shimmering yellow flowers bobbing in the wind. Much like Tashlaan, Ryggander, and other small towns you've seen, the village ahead of you has no walls or towers, and is probably only guarded by watchmen who patrol the streets on foot to discourage thievery, as opposed to being a defensive force.
You set yourself down on the ground to re-familiarize yourself with walking, and then approach Jannava and Stalna to make sure you're on the same page: "Take everyone to Goldenrod Hill and occupy the church. Kill anyone who gets close, and raise the bodies. Don't let anyone raise the alarm," you instruct them as you offer up the Pandemonium Door. As much as you don't want to let it out of your sight, Jannava is the only one besides Embryx that you feel like you can fully trust for the moment, which is an incredible thought considering that she tried to kill you with lightning just a few days ago.
Jannava takes up the artifact and nods, grimly. "I'm guessing you have some other business to take care of?" she asks, tiredly.
You lean in and explain quietly so that the lesser witches in your midst don't catch wind of the small luxury you're allowing yourself. "...Embryx and I are going to get some dinner at the tavern - just the two of us. When we're done, we'll trade you out so you and Stalna can go. Nobody knows us, and if we all act natural, we can get a real good plate of food in us before we depart tomorrow."
Jannava blinks, apparently surprised at the idea. "You know, normally, I'd prefer if you'd stay on task, but I think we can spare some time to eat. The rest of the circle can eat the rations they brought along from Enthaan; there's still enough. They can cook in the church once we're done setting up, and before they get their hands dirty," she adds with a hint of morbid humor. "...Once you've gotten your fill, meet us in the graveyard and I'll give you back the Door."
You nod. "If a large force arrives for any reason, use lightning to signal us," you add, realizing that the incident you recalled a moment earlier suggests a useful course of action in an emergency. "...Hells, just use lightning in general."
"Got it," she answers.
"See you soon," you say, to which Jannava merely smiles in acknowledgement. Stalna gives a more enthusiastic salute as she returns to the necromancers to get them prepared to enter the darkened church and eradicate anyone lingering around after dark. You and Embryx leave your distinctive hats with your hitched horses and simply... walk into town, just like you would have done a week or two ago.
There aren't many people about, as the weather is bitterly, bitingly cold, and the moment your hand meets the solid doors of the tavern you can feel the warmth from within and a longing within yourself for the sorts of creature comforts you abandoned in your unquenchable thirst for vengeance. They had seemed so trivial for a time, when Diala had taken away all of your personal choices and made you nothing but a puppet. Now, as you lead Embryx inside by the hand, you feel as if you've stepped into a portrait of the life you've secretly longed for since you were a child. The small number of patrons in this sleepy establishment barely look at you as you make your way to a small, empty table and seat yourselves.
A moment later, footsteps get your attention to an approaching barman. "Evening, ladies!" the older, bald-headed proprietor greets as he comes back from the kitchen. "Welcome to Manlaash. My name is Rubol - owner of this establishment, cook, and your humble servant for the evening. It's getting dark out there. Were you planning on settling in for the night?" he asks. "We've got a bunkroom with plenty of open beds, you know."
Embryx takes the lead in providing a cover story, as she often did when you two were enforcers for Diala. She chuckles and shakes her head. "...No sir, but thank you. Rigatte and I are just passing through, and we've got arrangements waiting for us elsewhere."
Rigatte...? Looks like you're using pseudonyms, for now.
"Oh?" the bartender says with a smile. "Well, it's cold out there, so how can I help keep you warm tonight? We have a good roast pig and quite a lot of ale..."
You place a couple of silver coins on the bar top. "Sharyx and I have been traveling all day long," you answer plainly. "We'll take two plates of food, and if it's good... two more," you add with a smile.
He beams at the payment and thanks you before pocketing the coins and promising to return shortly. Now that you're alone, Embryx reaches out across the table and lays her palms out for you, and you rest your hands in hers, gazing into her eyes until you've both had enough of the tense silence - the good type - and break into a giggle. "I'm sorry," she whispers, "your sister's name is all I could think of."
"Yeah, well you got your name from a nightmare," you reply before leaning back and fully relaxing. After another few seconds of thinking up what to say, you break the silence again. "I'm glad you didn't go with them," you admit. "I'd have missed you and worried for you the entire time you were gone."
Rubol arrives with the food and drinks on a large tray and sets them out between you. It's an excellent spread; it's been months since you last a had a meal this nice, as the sanitarium rarely served anything this appealing, nor did Diala allow you to spend recklessly while you were on the road. You thank Rubol and take a ginger sip of the ale as he walks, off before digging in rather eagerly. Embryx does the same, and only after you slow down does she acknowledge what you had said.
"And I'm glad you chose to listen to me, even though you were complaining about the others not listening..." she says with a sigh. But a moment later, she says something a lot more important, something which you weren't expecting to hear:
"You care a lot more than you think you do."
You cock your head a bit. "What do you mean?"
"...A few nights ago, you told me that you dream about people - your friends and family, I mean - suffering. And you said it was because She wants you to see it, but I have a different idea, Agranne. I think you see people suffering because it's in your heart of hearts to care, and care so deeply for the people you love that your nightmares drive you to move this whole world just to spare them the pain. Nytha told you a long time ago that she thought that all that anger you carry around was just a need to avenge yourself, but I think it's more about the rest of us than it's ever been about you."
You find yourself a bit misty-eyed by the end of her explanation. While a beautiful thought - a selflessness so profound that you yourself are blind to it - there's simply no way you can accept it after the horrible things you've done. At best it would be a contradiction, but at worst, it would mean that you can't express your love without harming others, and in the most twisted and evil of ways, at that.
You deny it: "Love doesn't disguise itself as the things I've done."
"No, it doesn't," she agrees. "I never said it was only about protecting us. You're a mortal like the rest of us, and you get angry, and heartbroken, and jealous like anyone else. But I also know that if the world was kinder, and we didn't have to fight for our place in it, you wouldn't be fighting at all, and neither would I. So, I don't know how long it's going to take to make this a world where you can finally relax - where the poor get the help they need, and the clergy and the nobles are righteous, Rigatte's back, and I'm safe and happy... but I'm going to stay by your side the whole way - no matter how bloody and weird and awful it gets sometimes."
"But that last dream I had," you argue, still hung up on the notion that even your nightly visions are actually phantasms of your own imagination, borne of unchecked care for others, "I didn't know that girl. Why would I have dreamed about branding her soul, the way I did?" you ask, whispering.
Embryx doesn't seem phased by the question at all as she answers in a whisper of her own: "maybe serving Her is your greatest fear, Agranne, because you think that She's the only one who could turn you against against us."
Your mouth hangs open for a moment as you realize that everything Embryx just said makes sense. Knowing how Syrith's power and influence has shaped your life so far, it's never been far from your mind how much you owe her for the things you've accomplished, the people you've met, and the love you now have with Embryx. If Syrith were to change her mind, how quickly would it all come crashing down? And so your nightmares, shaped by your past failures and premised on the suffering of your loved ones, have escalated to a generalized fear of one final, terrible ending: one in which you lose them all.
"If- If that's the truth," you stammer, "then I don't even know if I ever really saw Rigatte."
Embryx hesitates a moment, as she sees the pain in your eyes. But then an idea strikes her and she replies: "You didn't dream about her that night. You were awake."
"...And I was enervated when I came back to tell Corrinth and Ika..." you continue the thought, realizing that your efforts to sustain yourself beyond death must have happened as you remember it. Feeling as if you're back on solid ground, you nod and give a smile, although you want to cry, unsure of how many supposedly meaningful and life-altering visions you've had since joining the coven which are totally fabricated. She offers a hand to you, and you take it and squeeze. "One more fight, and then we leave," you promise her. "I'll get my truth about Rigatte, and then I'll let the rest of it go."
---
As you finish your meal together, your conversation drifts to more pleasant and whimsical thoughts. For a while, you debate where you might settle down in the future - you favor a homestead with a small farm, like the one you lived on as a child, somewhere away from civilization where people would be unlikely to encounter you. Embryx, on the other hand, thinks that the two of you should find a large city somewhere - maybe Aelesh-Yna, where she was born? - where the two of you aren't known, and simply take on alternate identities. You debate the pros and cons of each type of home - the amenities on each property, and how you would decorate a home if you shared one. You discuss which chores you'd each be willing to do, and what sort of pets you might keep.
You lay down your fork after stuffing down the last bite of potatoes, feeling utterly bloated from your second plate. The room is nearly empty now as a few more patrons have gone to bed, and all that remains is to pay for the other half of your meal. Footsteps approach your table and so you look up, expecting to find Rubol, but instead a woman in a very classy and expensive-looking hooded cloak greets you.
"Hello," she says. "You wouldn't happen to be Agranne of Ryggander, would you?"
You simply stare at her intently. If she recognizes you, she must be with the coven. If she isn't, then she wouldn't have come alone. Either way, she'll have hell to pay for interrupting this quiet moment you've shared with your love.
"...I apologize for interrupting your dinner, but if you would accompany me for a short walk, I would be quite indebted to you."
Looking to Embryx, you give a slight nod as if to say that you should both leave quietly, in order to not cause a scene. Although worried, she seems to understand, and you turn and reply to the stranger that you'll meet her outside. You put three more silver coins onto the table and then stand to leave, causing the strange intruder to give a quick and stilted bow before hurrying out the door.
As you step outside, you're amazed to see the first few flakes of snow for the season have already begun to fall. The cloaked woman is waiting for you here, just outside the tavern door, and she removes her hood. She's a half-elf with long, brown hair, with an absolutely gorgeous amulet around her neck - on it: the seal of House Barlan - the Royal Family of Turadal.
"How do you know me?" you demand. "How did you know I'd be here!?"
She quickly holds up her hands to calm you. "Please don't hurt me - I'm alone. I'm Princess Silanae... Duke Vallen is my husband, and I know you spared him from death."
"He must've told her the whole story," Embryx says.
Silanae nods. "Not... willingly, however," she elaborates. "You see, I'm... Well, I'm also a witch myself. But you see, I belong to the Pfaldlander Coven. We're not so common as Lythrefang-"
"You're the first we've met," you reply, hotly. "Answer my questions and then give your introduction, or you won't be spared."
"...I put Vallen under a spell. He told me about you, what you did, and how you tricked his army... and then I sent out crows in search of you," she states, slowly turning her finger around to reveal that one of her rings is a magical implement. "As soon as I knew you were headed here, I rode out after you. I was hoping to make a deal with you."
You calm yourself. "...What is it?"
"If you and your army go to Thandan, and if you confront the King... Please kill him, and kill my brother and my sister along the way. My husband and I would inherit the throne, and I can make sure that the Kingdom will work hand-in-hand with Lythrefang. ...And I'll abandon Pfaldlander and join you myself."
Embryx questions her: "Why even join Pfaldlander in the first place? It's useless! You don't even have circles!"
"That was the entire point," Silanae replies. "I never thought that Lythrefang would have its day, so I joined an order of witches to which I owe no loyalty - my only oath is to my god, Fallof. Through other independent practitioners of the dark arts, I've learned plenty, but there was never any aim but for our individual success. And given that I've had no chance to do the deed myself and guarantee my ascent, I've come looking for you."
1. Induct - "If you want us to work with you, then go into the swamp and speak to Syrith," you reply, still feeling an overwhelming distrust for this blue-blooded aristocrat and everything she represents. "You can become my sister tonight, or remain my enemy."
2. Dismiss - "...Go home to your husband," you reply. "I'm not a killer for hire, and I don't intend to wipe out the royal family - only to make them bend the knee."
3. Kill - "You shouldn't have done that," you reply. "If you were a kind and charitable soul, I'd have agreed. But you're too selfish to even join a coven that's worth a damn. You don't offer this world anything worthwhile, do you?"
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