#azata path

[dujour13]

Owlcatober 18. Dancing lights

Part 1 of 2 of "Blue Skies Over Mendev" - also on AO3

---

When in her unnaturally long life, Galfrey wondered, had the storms of chaos ever ceased thundering on her horizon? She squinted across the valley to the fortress prison of Threshold where it squatted atop the next ridge under writhing black clouds, bolts of Abyssal lightning flickering on her upturned face.

Could this truly be the end?

And she, no more than a spectator?

No—she must come to peace with it. She’d done her part all these hundred years and more. Worked until days and nights bled together into a ceaseless, weary march. Fought until her bones felt they would crack under the blows. The black blood of the balor Khorramzadeh stained her white-and-gold armor but even that felt like a trivial victory next to what the Knight-Commander faced even at this moment.

She could only hold vigil. Watch and hope.

If he failed and the Abyss was unleashed she and her armies would never have time to retreat; they would all perish here. Their lives, the future of Mendev and that of Golarion itself hung in the balance and all she could do was helplessly search the maelstrom over Threshold for a sign.

And pray. But she’d been doing that so fervently for so long it felt like empty, rote words now, a senseless child’s rhyme answered only with silence. The Inheritor had come down from the Heavens not to her, but to Siavash Mirani, some feckless Andoren diplomat with no title and no heroic deeds to his name, just a guitar and a charming smile.

And, she reminded herself, a genius for rallying the myriad forces of good to one final, triumphant push against the Abyss, guided not by careful planning but what could only be divinely inspired reckless impulse. So be it, she told herself for the hundredth time. If it was Desna’s star that guided them to victory who was she, the faded old Paladin Queen, to think she could outshine it?

She felt rather than heard them gathering, common soldiers and generals alike, shoulder to shoulder, all watching, all holding their breath, all daring to hope.

That was it, wasn’t it? Hope. After four failed crusades Galfrey herself no longer inspired such emotion. But Siavash did, rising from the ashes of Kenabres to victory after victory with his songs and his azata wings and his arms that embraced all, even those Galfrey’s Mendev had rejected and disdained.

And after all, she too dared to hope.

That was why she was here on the ridge rather than spending her final hours in her chapel tent in meditation. In tense and silent vigil she watched daylight wane, and by the time the baleful purple Abyssal lights began to soften she wasn’t sure if it was a trick of a mind deeply fatigued by decades of fighting. Of eyes that had hardly dared to blink in a century.

But she heard a murmur go up around her and felt a thrill in her heart such as she hadn’t since she was a blushing debutante.

No, her eyes did not deceive her—from Threshold there now grew a rosy hue like a spring dawn, lighting the angry clouds from below. The boiling storm began to contract and retreat, dark vapors dissipating on a fresh breeze.

A roar rose around Galfrey. Awed voices, so moved they could only moan incoherently.

Her eyes grew round and her vision swam; and suddenly, refracted through the pools of weary tears blazed a vast, glorious rainbow that split the night sky like a holy blade. Dazzled she squeezed her eyes shut just as her heart too squeezed with an ache that was deep and old and bitter.

Could it be?

Over at last?

“Inheritor.” Her breath rushed out in a sob.

If she weren’t the Queen she might have fallen to her knees as the rest of the crusaders did, but instead she stood rigid at their head, her breast rising and falling like that of a panicked bird.

And then Threshold lit up like an enormous Elysian beacon, beams of spring sunlight exploding from its walls, a shockwave of unearthly force blasting through the crusader ranks and nearly toppling her, and then like a gargantuan breath sucked back in, another shockwave blew through them from behind and nearly knocked them off the ridge.

Now the ridge and the valley all around her erupted into triumphant shouts and she felt her shoulders buffeted as crusaders surged forth roaring to greet the new dawn.

Something in Galfrey gave way then. Crumbled like a dam of sand.

Through her tears, the lights of Elysium danced.

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #queen galfrey #azata path #my writing #pwotr pals #owlcatober 2023

[starlightcleric]

So, I'm on my third attempt at Azata, hopefully third time's the charm. I'm still trying to develop the newest as a character, but I feel like rambling about them. (picrew here)

Amie Verdier, NG tiefling Hunter from the River Kingdoms, follower of Desna. Romancing Lann. Amie was my second character ever, actually, after Lorraine. She was first a Ranger before I realized I basically just recreated Arueshalae so she got respec-ed to Nature Shaman and then Hunter. She has an elk named Clover. The idea for her game was to get as many companions animal companions as possible and then share out my Teamwork Feats with Life Bonding Friendship. But I've restarted her game like, four times? Eventually I admitted she just wasn't catching my interest.

Angelina Ylvaris, CN->CG half-elf Bard from Mendev, follower of Calistria. Romancing Daeran. Angelina was my depression game, where I was starting to want to play video games again but I wasn't able to interact with mechanics so I just went through the game exploding all the enemies with Toybox. She got up to the end of Act III, but I've kind of lost interest in her game because it doesn't have any mechanical depth and it reminds me of when I was in a bad place.

Delilah Fujimori, N kitsune Sorcerer (Nine Tailed Heir), fey bloodline, from ???, follower of Shelyn. Romancing Lann or Woljif. My newest addition, who is mechanics first and I'm figuring out her backstory as I go along. She's an Enchantment focused Sorc, and has a DC 20 Will Save for the cantrip Daze. Will eventually be adding Favorable Magic, Zippy Magic, and Best Jokes in here. It's been real fun early game, but I suspect it'll fall off late game (I can't see CC-ing Deskari, for example).

#wrath of the righteous #azata path #crusader amie #crusader angelina #crusader delilah #finishing my true aeon game yesterday kicked me in the feels hard enough that I didn't want to go back #to being delightfully evil in my demon game #so yet another attempt at azata #alas the video game doesn't have the racial favored class bonuses #so I can't just take the kitsune Sorc one to continually up my enchantment dcs

[brehaaorgana]

when you’re playing an azata path knight commander:

#wotr #wotr spoilers #wrath of the righteous #azata path

[alienturnipp]

River Kingdoms Daredevil, Cayden Cailean enthusiast, dual-wielding troublemaker, aspiring Azata, Commander of the Fifth Crusade 🦋

#pathfinder #owlcat games #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wotr #tiefling #sylvan trickster #duelist #path of the azata #alien turnip's art #alien turnip's ocs #oc: briar #rogue #wotr commander

[rpgchoices]

I am checking the youtube comments to the mythic paths themes, and I will now present here MY FAVORITE ONES

#azata #i will do this for my fav paths #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #Youtube

[2yara]

Midday Commander work w/your companions

Midnight raw meat snack w/your best buddy

#art wip #commander grandelya #pathfinder #pathfinder wotr #pf wotr #sketch #wotr #anevia tirabade #seelah #regill derenge #azata mythic path

[queen-scribbles]

🦋 Vikkari Damson, Commander of the Fifth Crusade 🦋 ---

Had insanely good timing and snagged a slot in the last round of @orokay's bust commissions for more art of the angel boy <3 He looks amazing, tysm!!!

#vikkari damson #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wotr #wotr #to be clear: by angel boy i mean aasimar not angel mythic path lol #azata ftw #have i mentioned recently that i love him? bc i still do

[morelsupports]

you don't have to know pathfinder classes or mythic paths just vote for the one that sounds coolest

#pathfinder wotr #my first playthrough is chaotic good azata #which was absolutely perfect. i fucking love azata path.

[princessmelinoe]

About time more peeps are picking up Pathfinder Wrath of the Righteous. Now I can gush over about Arueshalae, Nocticula, Camellia (I'M SORRY) and Wenduag.

I say this with extreme heavy caution, I love the story of WOTR moreso than BG3's. I love both games carnally though.

#aru is my wife in it #i look forward to moots and friend's posts about it! #it was my fav game for awhile #aasimar is my fav race #angel and azata are my fav paths #daeran is my fav best bro #want nocticula carnally so bad #woljif is ny son

[amatres]

hm, other than her eyes maybe ill let layla have the beginning of wings coming from her back that never sprouted bc she went legend

#ama mumbles #layla (oc) #like a butterfly cocoon sort of thing. it didnt have time actually form but the beginnings of it is there #she was on the true azata path so 🤔 nd you sprout those wings real quick otherwise in game #also her having a slightly freakish thing on her seems fun. hey lann check it out!!!! the kc has their body altered by a power they had #no control in getting

[dujour13]

#54 The moment when reality starts to make sense again?

Thank you for the prompt!! 💕This one got a little long. Some dialogue adapted from the game.

54. The moment when reality starts to make sense again?

Thall pushed the door open and timidly peered around it. Inside, the temple looked like it had been ransacked, yet happy voices chirped beyond the nave.

“Aranka?”

“Wallflower! You’re safe!”

Hiking her flimsy blue dress, Aranka vaulted over a toppled menhir and rushed to meet him, Ilkes close behind. There was much hugging, and then laughingly helping Thall out of his oversized crusader disguise.

Siavash returned Aranka’s ash- and blood-streaked shawl.

“Our rescuer!” Her broad smile suddenly dropped. “Oh. And the Count.”

“I would have thought a creditor would sound happier to see me.”

“Oh, I helped myself before I left the mansion. You’re quite paid in full,” she said, flipping the shawl over her shoulder saucily, before taking Siavash by the hand and urging him to follow her. “We have something for you!”

It was welcome respite from the violence and flames, one he knew would not last, but when Desna’s providence beckoned he answered; he let her lead him back over the menhir into a candle-lit chancel where she and Ilkes had built themselves a little fort of overturned pews draped with starry tapestries.

“Now sit with us for a little while. Since you risked your life standing up for us and you seem to understand the difference between justice and what parades about calling itself the law around here, we have a gift for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Woljif piped up. “Do I get a gift too?”

“You’re all welcome to join in.”

“Join in… what exactly?” asked Daeran, tone oozing with suggestion.

She ignored him. “A song! A very special song—‘Starward Gaze.’ Taught to us by the true servants of Desna in Elysium.”

In disappointment Woljif’s eager tail instantly drooped. “Can I take that in cash instead? Or I don’t know, snacks?”

At this Camellia gave him an arch frown. “Those unschooled in the arts can’t possibly appreciate that some songs are worth more than gold.”

“And stuck-up toffs who never went a day without three square meals and a nap in silk sheets don’t realize that sometimes a crust a’ bread is worth more than gold.” Woljif shot her back a frown of his own. As soon as she turned her prim gaze away his eyes traveled down to inspect the pockets of her overskirt.

Behind her back, Daeran caught his eye and tilted his head toward the right-hand one.

Woljif lent him a barely perceptible nod of thanks, pleasantly surprised by this new and unlikely accomplice.

Soon they were all seated among the debris. Ilkes lit a stick of incense while Aranka passed around a bundle that did, happily enough for Woljif, contain a number of very fine snacks indeed, leftovers from Daeran’s rudely interrupted party. Then Aranka joined hands with Ilkes and Thall, and invited the others into the circle, but only Siavash seemed willing; Seelah preferred to lean back on one elbow with her flask, Lann sat cross-legged sighting his arrows one by one, and Woljif and Daeran sat on either side of Camellia looking extremely innocent.

It was Aranka who began, her pure, dream-like voice soaring up into the vault of the temple, the melody growing, surrounding and uplifting them.

Siavash joined his voice to hers, and then his guitar as well, gentle heartfelt notes swelling in the candlelit space like a magic spell, mingling hypnotically with the mystic scent of incense so that before long even Lann couldn’t resist closing his eyes and letting himself drift into trance.

Even while amusing himself with crafting acerbic remarks about this silly Desnan nonsense, Daeran was forced to concede the song’s allure. He had not hired the bard Aranka for nothing; she had a voice that ranged from crystal-clear to just the right touch of huskiness to resonate with sensuous beauty in his fine connoisseur’s ear. He found himself enchanted despite himself.

As for Woljif, he mostly welcomed the musical distraction from his fingers creeping toward Camellia’s right-hand pocket, until Siavash started in too, and suddenly this enterprise was utterly forgotten. The chief had a voice that went straight into his guts and turned them into a melty mess like the filling in a cherry roll. A warm sensation of comfort and lightness rose in his middle—the kind of feeling that usually meant you were about to pass out from hunger or blood loss—but not scary at all, just soft and floaty.

No one could say how long they swayed entranced by the simple but bewitching melody. A melody that swelled and rose around them like the tendrils of incense smoke, and was joined gradually by other voices—strange, sweet voices and birdsong flowing out of the ether and swirling about the temple like a gentle breeze.

Suddenly Ilkes gasped.

Still singing, eyes shut and hands moving over the strings of their own accord, Siavash was surrounded by a soft, golden light like spring sunshine. An otherworldly wind blew strands of tawny hair across his face. The heavy musk of incense gave way to a new, fresh fragrance and merry wisps of flame danced in the air around him.

When he opened his eyes they were filled with the soothing light of a honey-colored moon hanging large among the stars, and next the sensation of cool water drew his gaze down—to his own bare feet in a clear, shallow stream, surrounded by shining pebbles and darting silver fish. A sweet, exotic scent was on the breeze, like fresh strawberries and jasmine.

In wonder he glanced around: he was deep in an enchanted forest, the only sounds those of the bubbling brook and the distant melody of the song; willow trees trailed blossom-laden fronds in the water as it flowed past stones covered in jeweled, phosphorescent mosses. Fragrant ferns waved at the feet of soaring, ancient trees hung with braided vines. Fireflies danced in the mystic night.

The air felt charged with promise: follow, the brook beckoned; run, the wind urged; climb, the vines laughed.

He hadn’t felt like this since—

A rush of goosebumps washed over his skin and his lungs filled with joy.

He spun around, splashing, watching the spray catch the moonlight like shooting stars. A vine nearby bloomed at the sound of his laughter.

The vine felt firm in his grasp and his limbs light. He fitted his toes into the braiding and began to climb easily as if he were a small child again, rising above the brook and the willows into the branches of the taller trees, inhaling their sweet pine fragrance, drawn up by their strong limbs. The shapes of little fluffy creatures darted along the branches as if inviting him to climb further and further yet.

At last he reached the top of the vine and hopped to stand on a tree-branch, as large around as he was even this high up, balancing with a hand on a vast trunk that vibrated with life and potent sap under his palm. Winding away in the distance the brook was a path of starlight leading to wonderful adventure; the sky twinkled; moonbeams shifted through the branches.

On the wind came laughter and song. Soon strange and beautiful creatures were alighting in the branches around him: some covered in fur or feathers, others with skin of pearly blue, midnight black or opal, all with the translucent silk wings of dragonflies, the feathers of night birds or the lacy patterns of butterflies. Hair made of water or irises, some had tails, antlers, or flowers growing from their limbs. The one closest to him, swaying on the same branch, looked like an androgynous elf with skin the color of a robin’s egg, their diaphanous wings thrust out for balance and large, curious violet eyes laughing at him.

“Welcome,” said the azata.

Siavash smiled wonderingly. “Where am I?”

“Hold on.”

He seized the vine they proffered and clung to it as he was pushed off the branch and found himself swinging out over the brook at a dizzy height, laughing with exhilaration, the feeling of weightlessness like he could fly off into the enchanted night. As the vine swung back the azata held out both arms to catch him: he didn’t think—he just leapt. His stomach dropped with the sudden fall.

Both hands were firmly grasped, and another azata buzzed under him to push him back up onto the branch, where he lay across it panting and laughing until tears came to his eyes.

“It’s Elysium, silly,” said the petite butterfly-winged azata who had helped him up.

“I’m—am I dead?” There was a twinge of regret. There had been things to do, people he’d left behind, people he’d promised to help—but no use dwelling on that now. Here he was.

“No,” said the blue-skinned azata, “although mortals don’t usually come here alive. Your soul’s compassion and yearning for freedom must have brought you!”

“I don’t know what brought me. A magical song, I think.”

“A song your soul followed the path of.”

“Can I stay?”

The azata tilted their head and smiled sadly. “The smell of ash, blood and tears clings to you. There is much suffering in the place you come from. You must not turn your back on those who need you.”

Siavash slowly rose to his feet on the branch, his heart aching. He had turned his back on people who needed him before, for the promise of freedom on the wind.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“Take this memory with you. Take this light. Any moonbeam, however weak, reflected from any pebble, however small, can be equal to the brightest star in the darkness. Take our song. If your soul is good and free we will see you again.”

He took one more longing look around at the forest and the smiling azata; took one more breath of the sweet air; drank in one more moonbeam, and nodded, a hitch of regret in his throat stealing his voice.

He had no idea where he was or how he got here. What had awoken him was a sharp stench in his nostrils: the musk of incense barely disguising a smell of rancid smoke, and not the nice woodsmoke of a campfire, but the sickly-sweet, greasy smoke of burning buildings full of curtains and furniture and quite possibly people. Once in the River Kingdoms they had passed a burnt-out farm, the still-smoking ruin giving off an eyewatering odor of burnt animal hides, bedding and straw.

There were excited voices but he could not open his eyes at first, nor make sense of what they were saying. Unfamiliar voices.

When at last he blinked open his eyes, the faces gazing down on him weren’t just unknown to him, they were utterly strange: a half-man, half-lizard with one goat’s horn; a dusky woman with a crooked smile; a pale half-elf woman—but not one he knew—watching him in cool fascination; a stunning aasimar wearing an unpleasant smirk; and a tiefling with nice cobalt skin and golden eyes and an expression halfway between skepticism and wonder.

A blond woman loomed upside-down in his vision. “Well! That was strange!”

“What… what just happened?” A thin young man in the starry cloak of a priest of Desna leaned in. “For a moment you were surrounded by light, and we heard singing like the music of Elysium!”

Elysium—everything clicked into place. He sat up, feeling more than fine. Goosebumps tingled across his skin when he thought of it: the heartbreaking beauty, the sensation of childlike freedom, the scent of jasmine and strawberries. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would send him back. No use.

“I had a vision I guess,” he said, smile growing as he spoke. “I was in Elysium with the azata.”

Woljif looked suspiciously at the rest of the canapé in his hand and darted a glance at Daeran. “What kinda snacks were you servin’ at that party anyway? Are we all gonna start floatin’ off to ‘Elysium’?”

“Not to worry. I don’t believe our light-fingered diva put her hand in the right cookie jar for that. It seems our savior here either has a personal stash, or he’s a natural.”

“I swear, it’s a sign!” cried the priest Ilkes, clasping his hands together. “Desna herself has turned her gaze on you!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” said Thall. “There are other powerful entities in Elysium. But surely we’re blessed to have met you, because I would be in the hands of the Inquisition right now if not for you.”

“’Starward Gaze,’” mused Siavash, jumping to his feet. “The best gift I think I’ve ever received.” It was there like a bright, guiding star in his memory, shining over the darkness of these last several days, a promise of hope.

My thanks, Lady Dreamer.

#thanks for the prompt!! #starlightcleric #pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #siavash #daeran #woljif #camellia #azata path #my writing

[rivilu]

Ooo...

#arueshalae's quest... Delicious #i love it when companion quests not only are amazing in their own right but also allow room for me to expand on the pc... good shit #context-> i been thinking #since elluin died and came back very very wrong via botched wild hunt hunt or something of the sort #(dont ask me details this is all vague hc i only have the wiki to go off of for lore ) #just. where would his soul have landed if he had just died normally? #well. he's always been chaotic good. so #he should be at the club meme voice: he should be at elysium #something something the personification of the values Dimalchio abandoned staring him in the face #something about immortality granted through birth along with gifts unfathomable to mortals #versus immortality granted unwillingly. about the things one now considers trivial being what another was eternally barred from #something something envy something something rage #i cant wait to get here on azata path this is going to be JUICY to compare.... #ellu and arue are such a good pair to think about friendship wise in general... #trust me im talking about him more but mostly because it's a first run and im still developing him in my mind #but like dude... guy whose morals are the only part of himself he even considers vaguely salvageable #(even though he actually doesnt consider himself good- fun fact) #paired with girl trying desperately to learn and understand morality and undo the damage she did #also the fact that a bunch of the things elluin says to her he mostly says with the intent of putting some responsibility on the corrupted #which she instead interprets as him trying to absolve her of responsibility .. #i juist love them! #love them so much. throwing them in the microwave #(then there's also the azata-blooded assimar-shaped elephant in the room but im going to refrain from talking about him #because we dont have time to unpack aaaall that) #riv finds the path that sure is wrathfully righteous #oc: elluin

[crows-of-buckets]

I'm thinking that I may end up making Tyrian the legend mystic when act five begins. The longer I think about it, the more I can't see him willingly keeping his powers or becoming a dragon (I was gonna do dragon mystic however I remembered that he would outlive Daeran and it made me sad)

#pf wotr #i wanna do a dragon run sooooo bad but like #not for tyrian #i think my next run will probably be true aeon tho #that route looks so interesting #also fun fact originally i was gonna do aeon for tyrian #and have him step away from his powers #because at the start of the game he is very lawful good #however the asshole character developed too fast to where picking aeon wouldnt make sense for him #if anything azata would have made more sense #but i wanted to do a different path since i did azata on my first run <//3 #oc: tyrian

[alienturnipp]

Drew a quick Briar between work 🫶

#pathfinder wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wotr #wotr commander #oc: briar #path of the azata #rogue #sylvan trickster #alien turnip's art #alien turnip's ocs #i have so many wips for her................................. they're just incomplete ToT i'm gonna finish them i swear

[americankimchi]

THE WHAT PATH??????

#LIVEBLOGGING #LIVEBLOGGING P:WOTR #ALAS I'M TOO MARRIED TO THE AZATA MYTHIC PATH TO SWITCH BUT WHY AM I ONLY GETTING THIS SHIT AT. CHECKS NOTES. LEVEL 17???????? #WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME BITCH HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PIVOT LIKE THIS 💀💀💀 #i have NEVER seen this option before now what the fuck #pathfinder wrath of the righteous spoilers #p:wotr spoilers

[rpgchoices]

The sosiel scenes were heartbreaking and def worth it, but I don't think it's worth enough to replay as demon ever. There's just not enough content, and the demon options are just "unleash your inner demon and scream".

Which is fine a couple of times, but boring on the long run. I'll def try trickster next and angel one day, and aeon. Then I will have played all paths I'm interested in!

#pathfinder wrath of the righteous #azata still best path