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Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

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THE FINAL CHOICE New
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    • One by one, they make their pitches - everything from carving out charming little niches in their own private heavens for your loved ones where they'd be out of your reach forever, to kitschy festivals and folk-tales about your adventures... Karal, Vestria, and Gallanis lay out their plans to nurture the world they've spent centuries neglecting, as if the power you now hold was all that was missing.

    Your heart remains unmoved, even as Gallanis, the last to speak, offers to put your divinity to work caring for children in poverty. It isn't because you don't care; it's just the opposite, in fact - every decision you made on your two year journey to climb the ranks of the coven and achieve your sister's resurrection have been colored by your impoverished beginnings. Yes, you had been impatient, violent, and spiteful, but you had also been robbed of your innocence by the very people who should've protected it, all for a game between them that benefits no one. And worse yet, you had so little time to plan ahead; ever since you escaped from Diala's clutches, your life has existed on a razor's edge, with the scant few who have stood beside you facing death and despair around every corner.

    And Gallanis was right, after all; your compassion hasn't died - no matter what you've been through - but your trust is a very different matter. These things that they offer... they've always been within their power to achieve, haven't they? But they refused to act, unwilling to spend their own divinity to see it done, and so they ask for yours. How could you even expect them to honor their promises? With the threat posed by Syrith greatly diminished, would they not just throw you to the same wolves they abandoned you to before? No... You will not hand over anything you've struggled for so dearly just so that they will promise to do the jobs that they ought to be doing already.

    Instead, you'll do as you've always done: find your own path, and do whatever it is that you desire - and some of what you desire is even good and selfless! You're under no obligation to serve any other god, and if they haven't learned that yet, they will, and very soon... just as Syrith already has. You welcome them to change their minds and treat you as something more than a - what was it Syrith said...? A 'plaything of the gods?' - although thousands of years of history that chronicles the squabbles between light and dark suggests they never will.

    Oh well.

    Having had enough of you brooding silence, Zephimus finally demands an answer. "...Well?"

    A cynical smirk draws itself on your lips as you remember his reply from before. "I suppose I'm not impressed."

    He sighs, heavily, shooting a look back to Gallanis, who in turn simply hangs his head. When the creator god turns back to you, he seems barely composed. "How very adolescent. ...You've been coddled, Agranne - shielded from your own inadequacies by a naive god - with more faith than sense and naught the fortitude to end his misadventures before the consequences come home to roost!" Zephimus rants, before wheeling back around on Gallanis again. "You and your endless compassion, Gallanis... You should've let her die when I told you she was a lost cause!"

    "You've let her wound your ego, Zephimus," Gallanis replies, hotly, "and you aren't seeing things for what they are! Agranne and Syrith are birds of a feather, but that doesn't mean we have to repeat the same blunders-"

    "BLUNDERS!?" Zephimus explodes. "Is it now a blunder that we stood united against the usurper and her kin, and halted her before she could destroy our mandate? Is it a 'blunder' that we prevented her followers from corrupting the entire world, just like your precious Agranne has done to every land in her travels?"

    You feel the weight and pressure exerted by the word "united" in Zephimus' speech. Karal is instantly on her toes, glaring daggers at Gallanis for speaking out against the creator for his lack of tolerance for ascendent gods like yourself. Meanwhile, Vestria looks away, pained by the sight of two old friends trading harsh words. Likewise, Upa's slack-jawed smile fades, leaving only worry behind. Regardless, Gallanis stands tall, his old and weathered vessel appearing almost fatherly to Zephimus, despite the fact that the two gods have nearly the opposite relationship.

    "I don't know how else to describe any series of decisions that results in a world in which there are both too many gods, and not enough gods - where divinity is on-hand but saved endlessly for some far off, apocalyptic battle. If we don't change our ways soon, there will be nothing left to save from Syrith!" Gallanis argues passionately, the weight of the world's suffering clearly evident on his brow in a way that's clearly missing from his master. "And you know that she wasn't like this in the beginning. There's no going back now, but here, right here, is our chance to avoid creating another evil like her. You've seen the future - just as I have; why do you insist on this course of events!?"

    "Because I don't compromise with my creations. Not you, nor Syrith, and certainly not Agranne. I'm the only one who can survive the unmaking of this world; perhaps that's why you cling to it so dearly. But if I should start again, I would imbue the creatures of the new world with reverence for the divine, and obedience to my will, so that the suffering these mortals have caused can never be repeated! So..." he says, turning back to you and your allies, who have watched in horror at his increasingly sinister declarations, "if you cannot compromise, you will know my fury."

    Not just Gallanis, but Vestria and Upa shout at once as Zephimus raises his palm to face you. A bright light erupts and a sound of thunder crashes across the landscape, shaking you to your core. As the light fades, you find that Syrith has appeared, her sword leveled at the creator unflinchingly. The surrounding land of the island in the river has been changed - an ashen, deathly texture overtaking all of it as barren trees and even rocks seem to slump into dust around you, but the Eldest had effortlessly protected you and your allies, who have huddled behind you.

    But even more surprising than Syrith's quick appearance is Gallanis, standing at her side, and lending his limited strength.

    "...I will tear you down, Gallanis," Zephimus promises, his enraged voice falling to an eerie calm. "The world will know that Agranne is your doing."

    Vestria begins to cry as she observes the confrontation. "This is madness;" she pleads. "Gallanis is right; we cannot stand by idly and wait for this world to be destroyed! What I offered you, Agranne," she says, turning her attention to you, "...I'll give freely of my own divinity."

    "I FORBID YOU!" Zephimus screams, turning back in wrath. "Every mote of divine power wasted on mortal frivolities is sabotage in our war against the forces of darkness. If you intend to bend to their demands, then I'll have your divinity, just as I've taken from Gallanis. Look at the fool! With the fraction he still holds, he insists on defying me!"

    Syrith lets out a cold laugh. "If every mote must be devoted to our destruction-"

    "...Then you intended to take my divinity without honoring your agreements!" you inject, finishing Syrith's thought.

    "It doesn't belong to you."

    "Nor any mortal!" Karal adds, fiercely.

    Zephimus looks from you to Vestria, and then to Upa, and realizes that his rejection of Gallanis has nearly turned them against him as well. Suddenly surrounded on all sides by enemies aside from Karal, some inescapable conclusion settles upon the creator, something which strikes at his very foundation. "I... I've said too much - spoken without thinking... Vestria, please, let's discuss your intentions at the Table of Creation and I'm certain we can reach an agreement."

    She glares at him. "I won't speak with you if Gallanis is cast out of the Pantheon."

    The creator balks at first, suppressing another bout of rage as he breathes hard, before swallowing and accepting that there's only one path forward. "...Fine. FINE! Gallanis, we'll discuss your rebellion as well, and ensure that we all agree on what side we're on," he says, voice dripping with hatred and venom. "As for the rest of you... Know that there's no relief from the suffering you'll experience once your reckoning arrives."

    Your allies hang their heads and hold their tongues, knowing that any argument will simply prolong the confrontation.

    "Above all else..." Gallanis says quietly as he glances over to you, a numb expression on his face, but as Zephimus turns his back on you to walk back to his circle of divine runes, the charity god cracks an amazing and unexpected smile, full of sly satisfaction "...Stay true to yourself - free from the Pantheon."

    You nod in quiet amazement, and he takes his leave with the others. The return to the rune circle, and moments later, another bolt of lightning erases them from the scene, whisking them away to some faraway place called the Table of Creation, where they can apparently settle their differences by yelling at one another. You turn to Syrith, wondering what she thinks of what transpired, but she doesn't say anything. She simply grins, brimming with self-satisfaction at the course of events, then puts her sword back in its scabbard and places her hand on the pommel. She teleports away, reappearing with the others near the entrance to the cave.

    You read her mind, and find that she's already reading yours.

    The days ahead are the best you'll ever have. I'll be waiting, when they're over.

    Who's to say they'll end? From here on, I'm choosing my destiny.

    "Agranne," Embryx says, grabbing you into a hug and breaking your concentration. "That was intense. I can't believe that just fucking happened - I mean... Syrith and Gallanis just... Are... Are we safe now? What do we do?" she stammers.

    You look to the others and sigh, letting go of the stress your encounter with the gods had left you with. "...Let's go north, towards Ryggander. I have a few dying wishes I need to fulfil for Stalna, Raka, and Rheyah," you reply. "I'd also like to work some miracles there, and maybe start a coven of my own..."

    Gradually, your unbroken confidence begins to settle her nerves, and the nerves of your other companions. They begin to realize that, although the future is full of danger and treachery, they've faced their greatest adversaries head-on already and found it possible to survive unharmed. There is a great wide world into which they can venture, and a lifetime of possibilities to explore, and they're going to enjoy every moment of this chance they've been given without any authority to rule them - aside from the wild desires in their hearts.

    -THE END-
    ​
    Thank you everyone for reading and contributing to this crazy project over the past year. Terrorchild has been a fixation and a passion for me since it began, and seeing it finally come to a conclusion, even one which remains open-ended, is a bit bittersweet. I look forward to future games set in its universe, so that Agranne and her friends (and foes) can continue their adventures. I'll also begin an epilogue in this thread sometime soon which will allow us to peek through a crystal ball at a few of the options we didn't take to reach this ending.

    Lastly, I just want to take this moment to say that, since I began writing Terrorchild, the world has become a much darker place for me and many of the people I love. Life has never felt more uncertain - but like Agranne, we're free to be always true to ourselves, free to love, free to uplift each other, and free to resist any attempts by others to beat us down - no matter how we're labeled or excluded in the process.

    Take every opportunity to thrive, give everything you have to give, and appreciate every small gesture of kindness.

    -Lydia
     
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    • An epic tale has finally come to a close after almost an entire year, I don't know if I can even put into words the fun I've had reading it and contributing as a voter over at Inko! (even managing to spread it further). In many ways, it's been phenomenal seeing your writing at its A-game, refined over ten years of continuous writing. Overall, it's just been an absolutely incredibly time! I look forward to seeing not just those alternate endings, but also seeing where you take this universe further.

    The votes may be over, and in turn, what little influence we voters had on Agranne, but if you can still hear me, Agranne, don't let your hate for Syrith wane! Never work with her, to your final days! If an opportunity presents itself where you can not just kill her, but erase her from existence, take it! TAKE IT! SHE DESERVES NOTHING!
     
    From fairly early on, I decided to forgo any idea to play this game in a cautious or "good guy" manner, save for the odd choice here and there. I wanted to see Agranne grow her wicked side and to become the titular Terrorchild of legend. For that reason, I became known as the Dark urge among the fellow posters at Inko. Every time the fae roll fell on my choice, K0mo would spin the bloody consequences with enough force to give everyone pause, both in game and outside of it. This year-long experience is one I will never forget and hope everyone voting and reading thoroughly enjoyed it.

    Borrowing from above. Agranne, you have what you wanted, but they will still come for you. Don't trust the gods to forgive and forget. Don't trust Syrith to be content with her lot in divinity. Meet them with all your fury and bloodlust when the time comes and I'll be there with you. The little voice at the back of your head, happily cackling as the Terrorchild makes her name known to the world.

    Your friend and ally - The Dark Urge
     
    Such a fun Journey to have read along with! Always had excitement whenever I got a ping of a new Terrorchild post. Even when I probably should have been heading to bed… sending Embryx alone with artifact.

    One thing I’d like to really compliment on is your descriptions of magic. Throughout the whole series discovering magic and how the different forms worked was superb. Looking forward to reading more!
     
    At the start of this RP, I was fully intent on being one of the voices of reason and good. Sort of a 'Volition' sort of voice, in Disco Elysium terms. Boy, did things go off the rails for me as time went on. Its been a wild ride, and one I wouldn't trade for anything.

    Corrinth grew on me over the course of the RP, mainly because I always love those sorts of characters. The unstable, barely held together types. Often insane for one reason or another. I pushed for her downfall at first, but over time, that shifted to trying to keep her alive. Then, make her happy. A little at a time, finally fixing her mental instability through one hell of a horrifying process. She has her lover back now, here in the end, and maybe she might have her mother and other friends back too as time goes on. After the hell she's gone through, she deserves happiness just like Agranne and Embryx do.

    I personally can't say that I'm super thrilled with this route we took, with Syrith having half her divinity back and is now plotting and scheming elsewhere in the world. She actively made Agranne's life hell, just like the Gods themselves did with their inaction. Still, at least Agranne has the chance to do good things in the world instead of following Syrith's example.

    This was still a fantastic ending, regardless as to my personal feelings. I'm happy to have been part of this, and thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it. I'm looking forward to all the other things up ahead in this universe, as well as with these characters.

    You're one hell of a writer, Lydia.
     
    It has been an absolute pleasure to read through and participate through this wild ride, going from Agranne's humble beginnings to this wonderful ending. I had originally started as trying to be the good part of Agranne, trying to salvage her kindness and charity throughout - and although I made some... questionable votes along the way, I feel as though I have succeeded, at least with how I interpret the possibilities following the conclusion of this narrative. And that truly is the best kind of ending, one that is open to interpretation as it allows for so much to be considered with regards to Agranne's path. She has committed evils, but she herself is not fully evil... or at least, not fully like Syrith is.

    K0mori K0mori I wanted to express my gratitude for allowing me - and others - to partake in this journey, and that you serve as an endless well of inspiration for my own writing. I can only hope to be even a fraction of the writer that you are and I look forward to any and all stories you create in the future and I look forward to seeing what new characters and plots you explore. Cheers to you.

    To Agranne, never let go of that kindness in your heart to those who need it most. And be ruthless to those that bring suffering upon others for their own gain. You are the captain of your own destiny, and I hope you never lose sight of that.
     
    Epilogue: Alternate Timelines New
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    • Two Days Later
    ​
    "...Oh gods, are you serious?" Embryx asks, her voice hushed and full of pity. "That can't really be it, can it?"

    "Oh... Oh no," Kulka hums, shaking her head.

    Corrinth shrugs. "I tried to tell you..."

    "I know," Embryx replies, "but I thought you were exaggerating! This is awful..."

    You haven't moved since you realized what you were looking at. It's been over two years - three, for Rigatte - since you last stood in the middle of this barren road and looked back on your family's homestead. The snow is patchy here, and full of grime from the days past; the trees quake in the wind, devoid of leaves. It isn't just the chill of winter that's made it feel so hollow - something intrinsic, something beyond nature has marked this as a place of misery. The Pantheon's judging eyes are burned into your mind, and you remember the gnawing hunger, and remember that this is the childhood they ordained for you.

    The house is a destitute shack, leaning unnervingly to one side. The thatch of the roof looks rotten and full of moisture. The door hangs open and still, an invitation to come and look, but also a cold reminder that there's nothing of value to hold onto here - if there was anything aside from dust and squalor, someone doubtlessly would've come to take the place of those who lived here before.

    Someone would've tried to heal this place - but no one did. It was too far gone, too hopeless, and cursed.

    Rigatte steps by you, sighing in resignation at the final collapse of what had once been home for the two of you. "...I always had a feeling that this was how it was going to end. I'm glad they left it behind while they had the strength," she says, before turning back to look at you and the trouble in your eyes. "Are you okay, Agranne?"

    "...Yeah," you reply, pushing down your disgust for the gods and remembering why you came here. When you left from Edniewebotm, you had fully intended to change Ryggander with your newfound godly power. You could alter the divine runes of any plant you encounter in order to produce the most delicious and bountiful crops, or even turn the rocks which pierce the soil here and there into solid mounds of gold. Your neighbors had been just as hungry and sick as you, and now you could feed them and provide for them for the rest of their lives - and if any were old enough that these miracles would seem like a cruel windfall as they wait on death's doorstep, then you would turn back the clocks on their mortal bodies and give them a second lifetime in which to know happiness and freedom from want.

    But it's all too late. As you walked from that island of resurrection, Corrinth finally explained to you the extent of what she had done when she came to visit two years ago while wearing your face. She hadn't just killed one or two, but nearly a dozen - and she had burned down the temple of Gallanis when she was done, cackling from the inside amidst the enchanted fire, unburned as everything around her blackened and fell to ash... all before slipping away in the form of a crow. The authorities would find the skeletal remains of her final victim amidst the scorched rubble of the church, and concluded that it was you - that you had come home to Ryggander to take revenge against the very same church that burned Rigatte.

    On your travels northeast from your summit with the gods, you gathered a few details about what happened next from the strangers your party passed. They, under the influence of a manipulation that made them dumb and talkative, revealed that your awakening and subsequent "return" had caused a ripple of panic that turned into an earthquake. Within days of Corrinth's escapades, the residents of Ryggander began to pack their things into knapsacks and abandon their homes for the road, never to return. Word of Ryggander's status as a cursed town spread throughout the provinces of the Empire, and now, two years later, it still sits empty and utterly forsaken.

    And on a personal level, it would've been years before your actions in Turadal would make your family aware of your survival.

    You concentrate on what Rigatte said: Your family escaped, resettled in Halax, and are presumably living a better life. You'll be certain to verify it, at some point, but for now you focus on the increasingly clear notion that Ryggander's reputation may actually be perfect for what you have in mind. If the gods have abandoned Ryggander, then you'll have it all to yourself - no interference from the church or the hunters. You'll carefully send around word of your existence, and take visitors here where you might judge them worthy or not of joining your circle. You'll be more discerning than you were in Turadal...

    And once you've gathered them up, you'll reveal the task at hand. Unlike Syrith, you won't cling to your divinity, nor will you challenge the Pantheon at every turn. Instead, you'll make good on the promise of freedom that the unknown driver who carried you out of Zuklanar made, when you asked what joining Lythrefang would mean for you: freedom from guilt, freedom to do and take as you please... and release from the shackles of others' designs.

    But to that, you would add an important caveat: the Pantheon have abandoned the world to vice and squalor; that is their design, and we must resist their cruelty.

    You give a bittersweet smile at the hopeful thought. "I'm just going to take one last look, and then I think we ought to burn it down," you say quietly to Rigatte.

    "Why?"

    "Because this place was created to torture us," you respond. You pause a moment to allow her to better come to grips with her own relationship with the gods before you offer another perspective on the future. "...We could build a better home on this land, without the bad memories. No one should ever live in those four walls. Never again."

    She nods, managing to smile as she kindles a bit of renewed hope. The two of you walk up the path to the shack and push the door inward, and with your godly vision you begin to see the innumerable little signatures of the gods on the runes of everything inside - all the old and damaged furnishings, and the dusty housewares and sundries that your family left behind in its despair, two years ago. You don't understand most of what they did - for all you know, the Pantheon had made provisions for your survival into adulthood as much as they had ensured that your upbringing would be joyless.

    "Agranne!" Rigatte gasps just as Embryx ducks through the doorway behind you. You join your sister in the room where you and your siblings all slept, and find positioned on the bed that you once shared - little more than a pile of straw with a few threadbare quilts tossed upon it - an assortment of you and Rigatte's old possessions. A pair of shoes that no longer fit you... A few birch-bark drawings of your family that you and your sister made together, before your youngest brother was born... The ragdoll that was Rigatte's before it was yours.

    Everything they still had from you both is here - not just abandoned, but lovingly arranged, so that the sunlight falling in from the small window on the eastern wall casts its rays upon them. You almost feel as if you're in the room with them, as they ensure your brothers have packed everything they need for the long walk to Halax. Battered trunks and drawers are emptied out onto the beds, and slowly, three piles emerge. The first of course is made up of what they would take. The second, soon-to-be swept back into the dark confines of the furniture where they would be forever forgotten, was all that they couldn't carry. The last is this: what you see before you.

    Things they couldn't take, but also couldn't bear to forget.

    Rigatte turns away, heartbroken, and you embrace her as she cries into your shoulder. Whether your family feels they lost you to the flames, or to the darkness of Lythrefang, the fact remains that they were burdened by grief. Their goodbye to this miserable home was also a solemn farewell to promise you both once held. You want them to know that you aren't gone, and despite your flaws, you aren't entirely a monster. But you aren't sure of how to make contact without hurting them even more, and you know that Rigatte feels the same way.

    You dry your tears. "...We'll make it right for them somehow, won't we?" Rigatte pleads.

    "Somehow," you repeat, even if you're not even sure what that means.

    In time, you're certain they'll become aware of your status as a goddess, due to the speed at which word can travel whenever miraculous events occur. You'll ensure that they learn that Rigatte is alive as well. And then, maybe someday, you'll invite them to meet with the two of you again, only after you've devoted a significant effort towards improving the lives of the poor, and only after you've shrugged the mantle of Terrorchild from your shoulders for once and for all.

    ---
    ​
    You emerge from the house a short time later, having taken the old ragdoll and a few other mementos. Satisfied with your new path forward, you and your allies set fire to the old building. As it burns, you sit by the old well and think about the future.

    "So," Embryx says, "we're forming a new coven, right? I guess we're just gonna call it the Ryggander Coven?"

    You nod. "Sounds good to me. Once we get a nice camp set up closer to the center of town, where the church used to be, I think we can start looking for some inductees."

    Kulka drums her hands a bit on her knees. "Well... Who's that going to be, then? Just about everyone who's awakened to dark magic in this area finds themselves pulled into Lythrefang," she replies, thoughtfully. "With the Eldest being back, you can't really expect much in the way of defection."

    "You talk about it like we're at war with each other," you reply. "Syrith wouldn't have helped me revive you if she didn't believe in her heart of hearts that the two of us will be allies, one day."

    Embryx frowns. "Yeah, as much as I hate to say it, I think we have a much better chance if we're on good terms with Lythrefang, rather than treating them like an obstacle. Kulka's right, though. Even if they like us, it's not like they're going to be lining up to switch to a new sisterhood."

    "...Are you guys serious?" Corrinth balks. "You two wanted your freedom from Diala so badly you killed her for it. I can't even imagine how many other witches there are out there that would run to your side if it meant getting away from people like her. Plus, think about how many of them screwed up in one way or another, like Veralt and I did. They've got no way to grow or to learn, except this new coven out in Zuklanar..."

    Veralt nods in agreement. "Yes. If anything, there will be more wanting to join than you're ready for," he sounds out.

    "Then we'll have to be careful who we accept," you say. "We'll probably be relying a lot on telepathy," you say, eliciting an approving nod from Kulka.

    Rigatte's eyes light up. "There's also mysticism," she adds. "We could take a peek into the future and see if we need to worry about anyone."

    "Gotta be careful about that, too," Embryx says. "If Syrith or the other gods have their eyes on their future, too, we could get stuck plotting against each other, just like what happened with Agranne."

    You sense an opportunity. "I could just... make some new witches," you say with a sly grin. You imagine there are more than a few morally-ambiguous sorts out there that are willing to break a few laws and more than a few norms in order to improve their lot in life, and hopefully the lots of those around them. With a simple amendment to their divine runes, they could be casting dark magic for the first time in their lives.

    "That's true," Kulka says. "Syrith could be doing the same, but she won't. She wouldn't want to waste the divinity. For what it's worth, Agranne, I'd love to join you, but you know that I can't. Lythrefang needs leadership, badly, and it'll help you more to have a friend like me on the inside."

    You smile and nod several times, once for each time she had already implied this during the walk to Ryggander. Meanwhile, Rigatte sighs wistfully, still searching for a valuable role to play in this new adventure. You pick up a smooth stone nearby that had fallen out of the crumbling masonry of the well, and toss it up and down in your hand a few times. "...So, you need a crystal ball for mysticism, right?" you ask her.

    She excitedly nods. "Oh, uhm, yes! It's a special type of glass, with magical materia baked in. The better the materia, the better the predictions, too."

    "That's easy," you reply, setting the stone down for a moment as you take out your sickle and slice your hand, creating a heavy trickle of blood. You then pick the stone back up in your bloody grip and bring forth your divine power. Almost instantly the stone begins to ripple and seemingly melt into a ball of liquid, fading from the deep, bluish gray it was before into a shiny, silvery color, before at once turning translucent, aside from your deep red blood dripping into it from the base, defying gravity. After the red of the blood is evenly dispersed throughout the now-perfectly spherical orb, you quickly alter yourself back into a sorceress so that you can heal your hand.

    You place the newly-created implement into Rigatte's shaking hands as she remains in awe of your abilities. "W-wow..." she whispers.

    "So... just how good of a mystic are you, Rigatte?" you ask, giving her the floor to show off her unique ability.

    "Well, my visions of the future are a little murky; I was still working on getting good at it when I died, but now that you're here and you can do that 'infinite magic' thing, I guess I'll be getting really good, soon. But one thing I'm already really good at is pulling up pseudos," she explains. She soon finds that Kulka is the only one here who knows what she's talking about. "Oh!" she continues, "pseudos are basically like... alternate timelines. Yeah. If you give me a particular moment in the past where something important happened a particular way, I can look into the future of what would've been, if it had gone differently, since the future from that point is still in our past, if that makes sense..." she rambles.

    Everyone pauses for a moment as they realize how fascinating such a glimpse might be, even if it's less practical for the new coven's future, at the moment. You don't particularly care about wasting time, and so you, like the rest, imagine all the ways things could've played out differently...

    ---​

    [Feel free to use this thread to suggest ideas for alternate timelines to explore - things like "What if Agranne had chosen Corrinth to stay behind in Mardenaal, instead of Embryx?" or "What if Agranne had agreed outright to wed Sharyx?" for example. I'll periodically select one and write a glimpse into how things might've gone.]
     
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    • How things would be different if we had chosen to keep The Door with us and instead either accompanied Embryx or let her speak before the surprise by Sharyx
     
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    What would have happened had we remained on good terms with Lachlaen in the beginning?
     
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