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monstersdownthepath · 6 years

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Spiritual Spotlight: Shyka the Many

∞ Eldest of Entropy, Reincarnation, and Time

Domains: Death, Destruction, Madness, Magic Subdomains: Arcane, Catastrophe, Divine, Insanity

The First World: Realm of the Fey, pg. 34~35

Obedience: Build something small and fragile with whatever is on hand, such as a house of cards, an ice sculpture, a sand castle, a small ‘hut’ made of twigs, or some other such thing, all the while contemplating the fleeting nature of existence and the inevitability of entropy. Leave your creation to decay at its own pace. Benefit: You gain a +2 sacred bonus to Initiative checks.

At first glance this seems like a gloomy obedience for a deity who, by and large, is more concerned with stopping (or slowing) entropy than simply allowing it to continue. However, daemons and nihilists will find no place among Shyka’s faith; rather than giving in to despair knowing that everything will one day cease, the Many prefer to celebrate events both great and small and praise everything that has come into existence even as it gradually fades away. Despite their worrying Domains, they’re very much the “Nothing In Life Matters B)” type, not the “nothing in life matters ;-;” one.

Anyway, their Obedience is quite easy. You can basically use whatever materials you have on hand; in a pinch, even a stack of rocks or a dirt castle will do. Building something small and fragile is easy for even the least dexterous of folk to accomplish so long as you have at least one appendage capable of manipulating items. It’s simple to perform and easy to keep a secret if you need to; even if caught you can at least throw some curious folk off your trail by claiming to be working for a god of construction or craft. There’s plenty of them among all the pantheon, if you need to hide your worship of the Many for one reason or another.

And that benefit? Mm, I love me some extra initiative. Going first in combat is always handy for just about any class. This benefit, however, is actually strictly worse than an already existing feat--Improved Initiative--which makes it somewhat unique compared to other Divine Obediences in that regard, which are usually on par or even stronger than most other feats. Then again, Initiative is extremely valuable (whoever moves first basically decides how the rest of the turn goes) and it already stacks with Improved Initiative, so having it at +4 would create a monstrous speedster that always moves first.

As always, the Eldest do not possess the average Evangelist/Exalted/Sentinel spread, and use the Feysworn Prestige Class. The Feysworn Prestige Class can be entered at level 6; if taken as early as possible, you get the Boons at character level 8, 11, and 14 instead of 12, 16, and 20. You’ll only have to see this warning one more time after this!

Boon 1: Twist Time. Gain Entropic Shield 3/ day, Augury 2/day, or Haste 1/day.

Why bother looking at the other two options when Haste is an available choice? By the time you earn this Boon, you can ping up to 8 people with Haste at a time, letting you slap all your friends with the bonus while still having available uses for any allies that may be in the area. Haste is one of the strongest buffs in the game and benefits more or less every character type. It’s never useless, it’s flexible, and it can change the tide of combat, which is always what I look for with these first boons.

Augury is an interesting spell but it relies far too much on the future remaining rigid and unchanging, and if there’s one thing both the DM and players know, it’s that nothing is set in stone while four~six lunatics are romping around. Entropic Shield is a decent enough defensive spell, imposing a 20% miss chance on incoming ranged attacks for HOURS at a time... But that still means 4/5ths of incoming attacks will hit. Just go with Haste and hold onto it for a boss fight.

Boon 2: Borrowed Memories. Once per day, you may cast Legend Lore as a spell-like ability. This casting of Legend Lore is always a standard action, and you always receive the greatest amount of information possible, as if you had the person/place/thing on hand. This recollection comes in the form of memories borrowed from someone intimately familiar with the subject matter.

Hooh boy. I can see a lot of DMs not wanting this particular power in the hands of players.

For those who don’t know--and I don’t blame you--Legend Lore is a niche spell that grants someone the knowledge of a specific person, place, or thing. The knowledge is typically granted to them in the form of myths and stories. Depending on if you have the object at hand or not, the information can range from useful (”They say the Doom Artifact can be activated by the singing of four teifling bards...”) to frustratingly vague (”They say the Doom Artifact was last seen in beyond the Death Mountains...”).

Seems useful, right? Well, it’s actually most useful when you already have the subject of the spell within reach, because then its casting time is only 1d4x10 minutes and gives you a bunch of information regarding its functions or features. However, if you know of the subject but don’t have it nearby, the casting time is 1d10 days and you don’t get back nearly as much information. And if you only know rumors? The spell takes 2d6 weeks to cast and gives you only scraps. Enough for a direction to walk in to reach it, but little else. Plus. there’s the additional small but important restriction in that it literally only works on ‘legendary’ or well-known subjects. It can feel a redundant to have a spell that tells you more about a subject you already know a lot about (though the book helpfully notes that it can be used to sniff out forgotten legends, as well, so long as it was legendary or renown at some point in the past), which only grows more informative and accurate when you’ve already gotten accurate information.

... But, of course, while the normal version of the spell is drastically limited by its casting time, Borrowed Memories is significantly more flexible. At first it may seem like a godsend for a DM to have someone who can latch onto even the most vague of plot hooks from thousands of miles away, but as the player’s knowledge of the subject grows, it may become increasingly frustrating for the DM to keep any secrets about the subject hidden, rapidly ruining attempts at building mystery or intrigue. Following the vague hooks until you learn more about the subject in question and then spamming Legend Lore until you know its exact geographical location can can throw a wrench in a few different works... Or, even worse, you use the plot hook you’ve latched onto to bat away other plot hooks. This ability can slap a party with some serious tunnel vision once they figure out how best to use it, making a beeline for the legend they seek and ignoring any distractions on the way.

Discuss this ability with your DM ahead of time--preferably two or three levels before you actually get it. Let them know its exact implications, and thus they can balance their adventure around it a little better.

Boon 3: Pause. Once per day, you may select either yourself or one other target within 30ft as a standard action. The target gains the benefits of Time Stop, but only for 1 round (if used on yourself, it lasts until the end of the current round).

Hmm. Time Stop, as everyone should know, is one of the best spells in the game, essentially giving whoever casts it on themselves 1d4+1 rounds to do whatever they feel like to whatever they feel like. However, this ability is a dramatically weakened version of the spell that, for you, is a 1/day Get-Out-Of-A-Monster’s-Melee-Range free card and nothing more unless you have some other swift actions you can take. The fact it’s a standard action means there’s little you can do to change the course of the current encounter... But where Pause is unique is that it lets you slap Time Stop onto someone else.

This basically grants your target an entire extra turn which, while not as powerful as granting yourself 1d4+1 extra turns, can still be devastating if put into the right hands. Dealing direct damage or targeting a victim with a spell is impossible while time is frozen, but launching AoE effects, summons, buffing or healing, setting traps, wrapping your arms around a victim to grapple them, or even just getting into a better position are all free game. This ability requires a bit of forethought to use, unlike with the true Time Stop, where you’re given around 3 rounds to shove Delayed Blast Fireballs into every open mouth you see, and thus shouldn’t be used on a target who may not know what to do with their newfound freedom.

There are more than a handful of deities which hand true Time Stop to their most faithful, but only Shyka allows you to grant the benefit to another person. It’s fitting, because the Many is not simply a silly title; there’s millions of Shyka running around the multiverse, inhabiting all points of the past, present, and future, all sharing power, knowledge, and discovery with one another.

It’s very possible that their most powerful Faesworn may become Shyka themselves over time.

You can read more about them here.

#Spiritual Spotlight #Sinister Spotlight #Saintly Spotlight #Neutrality Notes #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

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violetosprey · 6 years

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Yanderes: A Question of Sanity

*slaps hands down on the table* Okay, no more holding back! This is a topic I’ve been really eager to want to touch on for a while: How insane must a character be in order to be considered a yandere?

I will say this outright: I personally have always viewed yanderes as the type of character that do display at least a little bit of insanity. That’s just how it’s always been for me. I attribute this to how yanderes will display behavior that ranges from obscure/mildly unfavorable to downright horrifying.

The google definition of sanity is:

The ability to think and behave in a normal and rational manner; sound health

So yeah sounds like it’s perfectly reasonable to say that yanderes lack some sanity. But believe it or not when I started to think more about this…the question became less of HOW insane they are to me and more of WHY are they insane. And…is it possible for a yandere to be completely sane?

Just a fair warning to start, this post is going to be very strange and rather inconclusive. I know several of my posts are like that (where I’m just kind of throwing ideas out there and seeing what sticks), but this one for whatever reason just really stumped me. It’s been rewritten about TEN times in my head now, so it’s gotten to the point where really, I just need to start writing this down. Sometimes the ideas come together a little better when I actually start typing. That being said, I won’t be surprised if this post still ends up lacking cohesion and sense.

So there were so many ways I tried approaching this topic. At this moment in time, I’ve decided to settle on attributing a yandere’s lack of sanity (whether small or large) to three different traits: passion, loss of composure, and level of delusion. With that, you might already be able to spot a problem (or rather two) right off the bat with using these traits to gauge one’s sanity.

1) Passion

Google’s definition of passion is: strong and barely controllable emotion.

I think it’s pretty safe to say that a lot (if not all yanderes) display an excessive level of passion; They literally become overwhelmed with their love for their S/O. That’s often what brings about their rather…unnatural behavior. And a person who is consumed with passion for something may not always be using their head to think things through.

But while I think yanderes are passionate, it’s not necessarily appropriate to say that passion=lose of sanity. Think of all those romance films where the character is about to be offered a super cushy job for instance in some upstate city, but he has to make the interview in time to get it, but the love of his life is leaving on a plane at the same time and he has to choose between riches/fame and his dream job, or chasing after his soulmate even if it means 5 more years of paper pushing! You get the idea I think. Basically LOTS of normal people show feats of passion. And not just regarding love either. People can be passionate about work, art, volunteering, films, fandoms, etc. (basically anything). Passion can make us choose to do something that’s either unusual or even against common sense, but it’s so common that I don’t know if it’s really fair to say that passion is a cause for insanity at times.

2) Loss of composure

Google’s definition of composure is: the state or feeling of being calm and in control of oneself.

Again, seems like a good thing to connect to a yandere. Yanderes can become very insecure when they feel they are losing their S/O to someone else, or sometimes just whenever they’re not around their S/O. Plus, anime/manga has the advantage of giving us a wide range of facial expressions. There are three in particular that are pretty common to see in a yandere character:

The deep longing “lovesick” look (courtesy of the queen here herself)

The “crazy eyes” (Kiss him not me manga)

The “dark look” (Hadashi de bara wo fume manga)

It’s pretty common for these instances that right beforehand, the character looks completely calm/normal/composed. But when the topic of their beloved is brought up, they can’t help but let their inner most desires leak out in a manner that appears…we’ll say uncomfortably exaggerated to other characters around them. The “lovesick” look may either be constant or rare depending on the yandere and how open they are about their love. But it’s an opportunity for them to gush and show how enamored they are. The “crazy eyes” may also pop up in this case. Both the “crazy eyes” and the “dark look” may appear from a character (sometimes out of nowhere) when things are also not going their way.

This is MUCH better portrayed in anime/manga (where the term yandere originated from anyway, so it makes sense) because their facial expressions lend to properly showing when a character well…breaks character? That can be more tricky sometimes in live action (by just relying on the actor’s face I mean). But here, I have the same problem with using “lack of composure” as a criteria for insanity as I did with “passion.” Normal functioning people can show “lack of composure” in their everyday life. If you have a test coming up and you’re getting nervous, you can lose your composure. If you are walking through the park at night, and you hear strange sounds and become startled, then you can lose your composure. Simple things like this make it hard to say lack of composure= lose of sanity.

3) Level of delusion

Google’s definition of delusion is: an idiosyncratic belief or impression that is firmly maintained despite being contradicted by what is generally accepted as reality or rational argument, typically a symptom of mental disorder.

WOW that’s wordy XD But on the bright side, we finally have a criteria that actually IS linked to insanity. If a person is ranting about how there are flying teacups hiding in your walls plotting your downfall, and refuses to believe otherwise…pretty safe to say the person is “not all there.” Yanderes can display different levels of delusion. I guess the tamest level would be…they perform an action for the BENEFIT of their S/O, under the impression that as long as it’s for the S/O’s benefit, the S/O will forgive and/or praise the yandere for their feats. The reason this can be a delusional thinking of the yandere is because it depends on what exactly they are doing. The methods they use may not be considered moral (and the S/O may not like that). Actually this happens (I think more than once) in the comic “Cheese in the Trap.” Regardless of whether or not you consider Jung as a yandere, basically there are conflicts between him and his S/O over the methods he takes to help her. There was one instance with a scholarship that yes she REALLY needed, but she hated how he helped her get it once she found out what happened. And no one was physically hurt in this instance, it was more that the tactic Jung used with rather underhanded (and Seol thought this was wrong). An example of an EXTREMELY delusional yandere would be one, for instance, who refuses to believe his S/O does not love/want to be with them despite the S/O constantly telling them “no,” saying they already have someone they love, or that they’re even already married to someone else. Bonus if they think the S/O is sending them “secret messages” that they want to be together with the yandere :P

4) Might need some different/more criteria

So while I feel the three traits I mentioned definitely relate to yanderes in some way, I’m not so sure if they are the direct cause of the more insane side of a yandere. This could just be another instance of me overlooking something obvious honestly. Because first I have to ask if these three do work together to show that yanderes lack just enough sanity, then I have to ask if these three are ALL prevalent in some form for all yanderes.

If the criteria does work, then what if these traits are removed from a character?

If you removed any evidence of passion, loss of composure, or level of delusion in a character, do YOU think you would have a more difficult time labeling the character as a yandere? Let’s say someone was able to successfully create a character who clearly states they are in love with the S/O, and displays yandere behavior…but I guess is completely straight-faced/stoic throughout the entire story? No intense displays of passion (via facial expressions or speech), no loss of composure when confronted or their plans don’t work out, and a COMPLETE grasp of whether what they’re doing is right or wrong and understanding how the other characters view their actions. That to me…almost sounds like a sane person who is simply DELIBERATELY pursuing someone in a more unusual manner without getting caught up in their emotions.

Does this still sound like a yandere to you? Honestly, this may be a case where the audience would strictly have to look at the character and the story as a whole to make a proper judgement on that. Maybe it doesn’t sound like a yandere on paper, but it actually works better in execution than expected.

One reason I wanted to ask myself this question is because I like the idea of REALLY manipulative yanderes (especially those who err more on the villainous/antagonistic side). Now yanderes are by no means dumb, and insanity also isn’t the same thing as stupidity. But I think someone once brought up the question to me once “If a character is a little TOO manipulative and good at keeping in control, would that make them too sane to be a yandere?” Something like that, and I think the purpose of the question was to lead into how some villains might not really be in love with the S/O if they’re able to play the mastermind to simple get someone under their thumb. Fair question honestly.

There’s also protagonists in romantic manga/anime that I’ve come across who make statements or do some rather odd behavior when either wooing or interacting with their S/O. Naruse from Namaikizakare is one such male protagonist who has a stoic face like…90% of the time regardless of what he’s saying/doing.

Here’s his usual face (and yes, what you think is happening in this image IS indeed happening- the dynamic between these two is both adorable and hilarious, just trust me on this)

And no, he’s NOT a yandere. Just trust me on this. Some of the things he’s done might sound yandere on paper, but you see him in action and he’s really not a yandere. He’s actually a sweetheart (while still being an impossible brat at times).

*breathes a sigh of relief* Ah, that felt good. Sorry again if this didn’t really come together neatly, especially at the end here. Still, it was nice to get off my chest, and this was fun to write! This is definitely a topic that I’d consider revisiting someday. If anything, I hope I made at least enough traction to get other people’s two cents in here. Sometimes these posts might be better for just kick starting discussions rather than bringing closure.

And if I managed to ruffle any feathers with this, just remember the 3 rules :P

#own post #yandere #male yandere #sanity #insanity #passion #loss of composure #level of delusion #storytelling #analysis

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movieswithkevin27 · 6 years

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Leave Her to Heaven

Leave Her to Heaven is a classic exercise in subverting expectations. From the very beginning, we see writer Richard Harland (Cornel Wilde) arrive in Maine with remarks about how he just spent two years in jail. Pushing off from the dock in the middle of a lake as he rows his way towards a destination that, per the remarks of one of the men awaiting his arrival, is ready and waiting for him, the audience immediately wonders the story behind this man's life. Telling the story through an extended flashback, Leave Her to Heaven re-introduces us to Dick as he flirts with a girl on a train, Ellen (Gene Tierney). From there, the film becomes a bit of a melodrama with exuberant displays of love, gorgeous technicolor designs, and gooey romance. However, on a dime, the film pulls the rug out from under the audience and innocent love quickly turns sinister, manipulative, and abhorrently wicked. A thrilling and shocking film noir, Leave Her to Heaven is no romantic melodrama, but rather a technicolor noir, a true rarity.

By setting the film in various idyllic locations such as the mountainous deserts of New Mexico, the green pastures of Georgia, or a remote lake house, Leave Her to Heaven picks locales in line with its decision to be in technicolor. It captures the beauty of these scenes in absolute daylight, it creates a warm feeling of happiness in the beginning, and gets the audience to fall in love with the idea of Ellen and Richard being together. They have met cute and the audience is immediately willing to go along with them on the long, romantic journey from large gestures - such as Richard riding out to check on Ellen after she was gone for 12 hours - to rushed romance with them quickly marrying. They are a classic romantic pairing and the film's technicolor hints at the vibrancy underlying these moments with appropriate explosions of color, the great locations, and the way in which the film approaches this romance.

The casting of Gene Tierney further showcases this subversion of expectations. At the onset, she is nothing but a classic romantic pairing. Tierney's roles often play up her beauty as one her premier qualities and Leave Her to Heaven does the same right up to the end. She is a woman who possesses model-esque good looks, is vivacious, and perfectly wraps Richard right around her finger. She is presented as being everything a man could ever want in a wife. She is, for lack of a better term, perfect. Tierney plays this up, but as she dumps her old fiance and rushes into marriage with Richard, we see the tone of the film shift. No longer is she as a sweet, innocent, and vivacious, woman. Instead, she becomes dastardly and truly grows into the femme fatale role. Tierney nails this switch perfectly when the hard-break occurs and deftly shifts between the bubbly side of Ellen when she gets her way and the cold, monotone, and cut-throat side of her when she goes about getting her way. It is a tremendous performance that could almost be said to have come in a dual role. In one scene alone, she could go from being a happy-go-lucky married woman to a stone cold killer at the drop of a hat, which is an impressive turn and defines what makes Ellen one of the best femme fatales in cinema history. She, like so many great femme fatales, is seductive on the outside and killer on the inside but the latter only shows up when she wants it to show up. She is in full control of those around her and is able to bend their feelings and beliefs to her will with relatively little effort on her part. Cold, murderous acts are old hat and she is always scheming, planning every detail about how to get Danny (Darryl Hickman) and Ruth (Jeanne Crain) out of her and Richard's life, no matter what it took.

As the film delves further and further into the insanity that is Ellen, Leave Her to Heaven's thrills increase exponentially. The audience knows her insane jealously, her pervasive obsession with Richard, and her cruel vindictiveness behind closed doors about and to those who she saw as getting in their way. She desperately wanted to be alone with him, but Richard's earnest good nature wanted her to feel comfortable so he constantly filled their home with her family or Danny, who he believed she loved so dearly. Yet, as things progress, the audience practically yells for Richard to wake up and realize the monster he has married. How she treats Danny, the truth about the baby, or what she is doing to Ruth, all serve as warnings to the audience that Richard never is shown to truly process as being due to her own cruel, jealous, and manipulative nature. Compared to many film noirs, her plots are not nearly as complex, however, their sinister nature is what propels the film forward. Leaving her bloody fingerprints all over Richard's life in the name of loving him - just as she had done with her father based on comments made by Ruth and her mother, as well as Ellen's own comments about how much Richard looks her deceased father - Ellen stands as a woman who is wholly unaware of what her actions mean or that they are wrong. What she understands is that got her way. She eliminated the threat to Richard's time and attention, making him her's by default. She is the demonstration of the destruction that can be brought forth by rampant jealousy and the dangers in loving a woman who is so consumed by the feeling. Though enticing and the "feminine ideal", she is a woman who will make a man suffer forever based on him falling for her. For Richard, she kills everything he loves. For ex-fiance Russell (Vincent Price), she kills his career by making him go to bat for her when she is blatantly in the wrong. There is nobody she encounters that she does not destroy in her selfish search for self-fulfillment.

However, she is not all powerful. In a gripping scene where Ellen confesses what she has done to Richard, the power shift is exemplified in the staging of the scene. As she reluctantly confesses, Ellen remains strong and Richard's equal. She stands right next to him, looks him in the eye, and reveals the true extent of her quest to keep others out of their life. As Richard sits down in an attempt to process what he has been told, Ellen continues to loom over him. At first, it is just her shadow but then it is her in the background standing over Richard in the foreground. Her dominating, intimidating presence can be felt. No longer is she playing up her physical strengths, but now Tierney relies upon her capacity for mental warfare as she tries to spin and connive her way to retaining Richard's heart. However, as Richard stands up for himself and fights back against Ellen's tyranny, the power dynamics of the scene shifts. She kneels down in front of him, getting back on his level. However, as he declares he will divorce her, he gets up and walks away. This power shift continues throughout the rest of the film as Richard finally exacts revenge on Ellen and ruins her plans for the rest of his life.

As a film noir, Leave Her to Heaven's technicolor is certainly out-of-place, but this does not stop director John M. Stahl from heavily relying upon shadows in the film. Though the crimes and much of the action occurs in the beautiful exuberance that is technicolor, many of the scenes nonetheless have shadows littered throughout the background. This juxtaposition of absolute light and beauty with the shadows of noir speaks to the dichotomy that is the film. Though, as previously mentioned, starting off as a bit of a romantic melodrama, the film's shift into dark noir maintains the same bright color palette. The shadows, however, hint at the sinister and ominous nature awaiting the characters or that is occurring right under their nose. The film's dialogue and characters - namely Ruth and Ellen's mother - hint at the fact that something is off through their own odd behavior, but it is the shadows that often accompany this off feeling in the pit of our stomachs. Though Ellen looks perfect and her romance with Richard has every detail of a classic Hollywood romance, these dark clouds of noir loom over this film's picturesque beauty at all times, creating a deep-seeded tension that serves as a brilliant undercurrent to every scene of romance or technicolor beauty. It is a film with all of the beauty of classic technicolor, but with all of the sinister dark corners of noir making it truly a unique beast of a film, one that sets audiences up for a classic romance only to show the dark side of what can happen when one loves another way too much.

Ending as it begins, on a beautiful shot of Richard rowing on a lake - first at day and then at night - Leave Her to Heaven is a film with a mesmerizing performance from Gene Tierney. Relying upon her natural ability as a charismatic, bubbly, and selfless romantic partner for a male lead, Leave Her to Heaven smartly turns this around and delivers Tierney as a sinister femme fatale. Playing on what audiences have become accustomed to seeing from her only to turn around and have her as a sinister and manipulative woman, Leave Her to Heaven crafts a femme fatale that is entirely believable as both ends of the spectrum. We see the appeal in wanting to be with her as much as we see the wicked nature of her behavior. Even as she indulges in jealousy and wickedness, the audience cannot believe this doe-eyed woman could be so cruel. However, as she delves into increasingly violent acts, Tierney's wide eyes turn into cold daggers shooting at anybody who dares to cross her. Tierney makes this film as romantic and as sinister as it can be, playing both sides perfectly and turning her role into one of the more memorable femme fatales for how easily she gets the audience on her side even when we begin to suspect that she is a little bit possessive of Richard. A thrilling, sinister, and absolutely gorgeous film noir, Leave Her to Heaven is a film that bends expectations and even subverts its style and color to create a truly excellent film noir.

#1945 movies #1940s movies #leave her to heaven #film reviews #film analysis #movie reviews #gene tierney #john m. stahl #cornel wilde #jeanne crain #vincent price #gene lockhart #reed hadley #darryl hickman

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jannasilvane · 4 years

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antehac. pars duorum.

The news that the Rowan host had landed on their coast would have been worrisome enough, but it mercilessly came with additional news: Lord Auster Vorgrove had not only permitted the would-be usurper into Eastpoint, but had pledged loyalty and the full military force of his bannermen. As Lord Monfort read the news from the south to the members of the council meeting, Janna stared vacantly ahead as panic thrummed in her ribcage. Owayne seemed to be lost momentarily in gleeful thoughts of war -- his idiotic behavior spurred on by the similarly-idiotic Lord Highstorm who sat beside him -- but Janna knew that when his excitement faded there would be a price to pay for the betrayal done by her kin. She thought of Alister, stripped already of his title and yet forced to linger in the capital rather than in the safety of Cloud’s Crest, and worried that he would meet the same fate as the Woodgards. Alister had assured Owayne of House Vorgrove’s loyalty. Janna had attested to it as well.

She wondered if even she could be protected from a bloody fate.

Predictably, Owayne’s paranoia resurged when he’d calmed from the euphoria of having the war he’d so often dreamt of. Both Alister and his young wife Gaelis were arrested on suspicion of treason, and sent to the dungeons while evidence was amassed against them. Janna’s attempt to intervene failed miserably: rather than soften the King’s heart, he instead readily lobbed accusations against her, as if they had already been whispered into his ear. Did you all plot with him against me? He had barked, did you all think me to be so weak? How long have you and your traitor uncle conspired with the usurper? What did he promise you?

Despite her efforts to placate his baseless accusations with attestations of innocence, she was nonetheless confined to her solar and kept under guard.

The madness went on for fortnight until the Dowager Queen -- in a rare political move -- went to her son and demanded he release the Silvanes from their imprisonment. The Dowager Queen Celessa, who relied heavily on the words of oracles, insisted that the King’s decision would be a deathly one. Given her already-accumulated losses, Celessa was unwilling to lose another son. While his mother did hold some sway over him, a more powerful factor may have been Owayne’s need for Lord Silvane to amass an army to march south with. Owayne relented to free Alister and Gaelis from their cells, though demanded they be kept under house arrest. Janna, too, was granted back her freedoms -- though barred permanently from her seat at council meetings.

It was a mistake to have ever allowed it, Owayne had said. It is no place for a woman.

With Owayne tucked beneath the wings of Lord Highstorm and Lord Monfort, Janna became reliant upon other allies to feed her the information that was kept from her. The cupbearer who served wine in the council meetings soon became an informant to their chief healer, Fermin. Fermin was an older man who had served the capital through several kings, and had in his youth been a companion to Janna’s uncle, Chief Councilor Arthur Silvane. His loyalty had been with the Silvanes in the interim, and thus he was willing to conspire with the siblings against the King.

With little to do in their confinement, Gaelis had fallen pregnant and required regular check-ins from the healer. It was during these private visits that Fermin would relay his knowledge to Gaelis, who would then share it with her husband and trusted handmaiden, Mya. Mya would then pass this information through a network of ladies-in-waiting whereby it would swiftly reach Janna’s ears. It was through this system that Janna heard the true nature of the invasion, as the version presented to the court tended to paint the crown in a favorable light. The King celebrated the strength of his liege lords to the faces of his courtiers, and said nothing of the bannermen who had gone turncoat. Whilst in court, Janna heard the tale of House Stanner resisting siege in the South. In her chambers, a lady’s maid whispered into her ear that House Tyde and House Cratter had bent the knee to King Arthur.

The pitiable truth was that Driftpeake lacked the forces necessary to be outsourced to the south for the fighting that went on. With each day that Lord Carsen marched his men south towards the capital, Arthur Rowan moved northwards. Small infantries were built and sent to aid in the warring, though they were comprised largely of conscripted commonfolk rather than trained and salaried soldiers -- those men were expected to stay behind to fight for the King. These troops of poorly-trained men and boys were little more than lambs to the slaughter; meant to serve as a buffer on the front lines for the blue-blooded knights who stood behind them.

From what Janna understood of the whispers she was given, much of the effort put forth by the council seemed to be funneled into convincing the noblemen -- whose fiefdoms stood in between Arthur Rowan and Driftpeake -- to fight on Owayne’s behalf. There was no talk of the King joining on the fighting himself. Word had spread far and wide of Arthur Rowan’s capability in the field, and despite Owayne’s eagerness to don armor, the council appeared to understand that sending their King Soren to battle would only serve to prematurely end the war. The strategy appeared to be for the Rowan army to fall while they still lingered in the south, and for Arthur to be captured and hand-delivered to the capital for his execution.

In the meanwhile, Janna tended to what little she could do from her limited position. In the daytime, she spent time alongside her good-mother leading prayer services, or visiting with the city’s poor and sick. In the evening, she attempted to reclaim lost power. While the King and his councilors leveled orders demanding blind obedience and labeling defectors as traitors, Janna spent evening after evening penning long letters extolling the virtues of loyalty to the southron noblemen expected to take up Owayne’s fight. Taking all that she knew of each family, Janna curtailed every letter to their individual desires: in one she spoke of advantageous marriages for Lord Archyr’s children, in another she talked of returning a piece of debated land to Lord Crowlin’s family, and in yet another she promised Lord Crey’s son a position in court upon their victory. She even wrote letters to her Uncle, which were not so much laden with promises of political achievement as they were carefully-written musings of love and family. She squeezed every ounce of emotional manipulation she could possibly muster into those pages, and signed those letters without her title, choosing instead to end with your most loving niece.

Just as information was brought to her in secrecy, the letters were sent out without the knowledge of the council or the King. It helped that Owayne wanted little to do with her in recent weeks, save for the occasional evening spent in her bed. His ignorance provided her the leeway to attempt to save their rule from destruction. She continued to write letters even as the Rowan forces continued to amass allies.

Despite her best efforts, there was little she could do to undo her husband’s failures.

When the host led by Jon and Randall Silvane arrived at last at Driftpeake, it had become apparent that they would be unable to march further than the city itself. The Rowan force was only a few days ride from the capital, and thus the combined armies of Driftpeake and Cloud’s Crest would serve as the defense against the oncoming siege. To make matters worse, Owayne was insistent upon being a part of the fighting force -- and demanded that Randall serve by his side.

While the second Silvane son was a knighted fighter, he did not approach the prowess of the men of the Kingsguard -- a point that Janna had tried to make to her husband over and over. If all that you and your family promise is true, then the bonds of loyalty will protect him, Owayne had replied with a sneer. No need to worry, sweetling, he had continued, we’ll keep your Lord father near as well. Alister, who had spent the whole of the war confined to the rooms of his solar, was mercifully prevented from also serving in the battle to come. He and his wife would be permitted entry to the castle’s fortress, which would house the Queen, courtiers, and wealthy citizens who were able to afford their place.

More commonfolk had been allowed entry into the castle for their protection -- or perhaps to serve as shields -- but were not permitted beyond the castle’s second gate. The expansive gardens overflowed with people seeking refuge.

When the capital was at last penetrated, Janna could do nothing but hold court. Women prayed and children cried, and Janna hated her husband and the men who had empowered his insanity. He had looked like a deranged fool even while dressed in his resplendent armor. Owayne had demanded a kiss from her before leaving for the frontline, and had nearly giggled when he suggested that he’d have her kiss Arthur Rowan’s head when he brought it back to her.

When news came that the first of their three walls had fallen, she wondered if Owayne was yet choking on his own blood.

The hour was late when Janna was roused from her place. The dowager queen had been singing a tune of mercy when a guard had arrived and touched Janna’s shoulder. The King asks for you, the man spoke, his tone hollow and his face pale. He wants me on the field? Janna asked, her tone hushed but incredulous. No, the man had responded, in the throne room. The Queen was silent for a pregnant moment; her eyes darting around the room of weary nobles as she contended with the fact that the King had, for some reason, abandoned the fight. She saw Lord Monfort laughing and drinking wine with his mistress, while his wife minded their young son nearby. She thought to order him along with her, but thought better of it. Janna wouldn’t allow him the pleasure of thinking she valued his presence.

By your lead, she relented at last, rising to her feet and shaking her head as several of her ladies attempted to follow her. As she followed the guard out of the chamber, Alister appeared and gripped her arm. You shouldn’t leave this place, her brother cautioned her, before turning a suspicious glare onto the man. Where are you taking her?

The King wishes to see me, Janna answered, her hand gentle as she pushed her brother’s hand away. I will return soon with news.

Celessa’s song grew fainter and fainter as Janna moved through the dark corridor, and through one of the wide windows the Queen could see the distant orange glow of fire. What is the news from the front? Janna asked the sullen guard, why has the King has returned? Without turning his head, the guard replied dully:

The second gate has fallen, Your Grace.

When they reached the throne room, Janna found it to be empty aside from Owayne, who sat silently upon his throne. He still wore his crowned helmet atop his head, though the jeweled armor now bore the stains of battle. Janna struggled to believe that any of the blood might’ve been from enemies he had slain. Still, the armor gleamed in the dim candlelight, and Janna pressed her lips into a thin line as she looked at him. She refused to acknowledge that it might belong to her brother or father, who were meant to have been at the King’s side. Janna moved to take a step towards him, and as she did she heard a soft thud behind her – the guardsmen had left the room.

Your Grace, she greeted, her words tasting like ash, why do you sit here alone? The battle rages on -- I thought you wished to see it through...

He lifted his hands to silence her, and in a gravelly tone divulged: the second gate has fallen.

Yes, Janna answered, I heard as much -- but the third wall will hold. Unable to help herself, Janna took another step near Owayne. His eyes appeared unfocused, and there was something about the way he postured himself in his seat that made Janna nervous. Even so, she asked: where are my father and brother now?

A small smile appeared on Owayne’s lips, though the gesture did not meet his vacant eyes. Dead, I imagine, he answered callously. Just as we’ll be before morning. There was an eerie calmness to his words, though in a split second he pounded his fists against the arms of the throne and shouted: why wouldn’t you let me kill him when I wanted to?! Why did you all make me wait?! I could’ve had his head on a spike! I could’ve had him killed before he stepped foot onto any boat! Why did I listen --

Owayne’s tirade was interrupted by a bout of violent coughing. When he recovered and lifted his head to look at Janna once more, a sanguine smear was left in a stain on his lips and chin. He did not seem to notice this – or if he did, he did not care. They will kill me, he spoke, his voice suddenly small and quivering with emotion. He stood from his seat then, and took an uneasy step towards Janna. They will kill all of us. The things that we did to their family…those who did not escape…that will be paid back. It will be torturous. He gripped her shoulders with a surprising force, and Janna could see that he was crying. He’ll string us up, skin us alive, and let the birds peck at our innards...

His coughing begin anew, though he continued to attempt to speak even as he wheezed for breath and sputtered blood and spittle; we’ll be paraded in the town for the commoners to throw their shit at -- we’ll only die after we beg for it --

Not if we surrender now! Janna exclaimed, equal parts angered and frightened by Owayne’s display. Not if we seek mercy and give him the crown --

I will not surrender! Owayne screamed at her, they can’t have me -- he can’t have me!

Returning suddenly to his seat, Owayne retrieved a slim glass vial and lumbered back towards her. My zealot mother would rather be flayed than die sweetly, Owayne said, his voice shaking with emotion as he bit into the cork of the glass and spat it away. But I know you are no fanatic -- he does not need to have you, Owayne asserted, and reached for Janna’s jaw.

Thrust into a panic, Janna struggled with Owayne as he attempted to force the poison into her mouth. His armor protected his body from her, and so she could do little but did her nails into the flesh of his face as she sought to free herself from his grip. You coward! She screamed, her head turned away to protect herself from the liquid, you will not kill me with you! I will not die because of you! She continued to yell for the assistance of guardsmen, but the door remained shut. The man who’d led her had known he was marching the Queen to her own death.

Though the struggle may have lasted only minutes, it felt as though it dragged on for hours. Janna scratched his skin bloody, and in turn Owayne’s bruising grip felt as though it might break her jaw. He released his hold only to slap her, and as he called her an ungrateful shrew Janna stumbled back and fell over her skirts. Now on the ground, she’d put some space between them, and scurried back further. He moved to pursue her, though another fit of coughing overcame him. Owayne lost his balance as he moved, his crowned helmet toppling from his head as he fell over entirely. The King struggled for breath as he lay on the ground, and Janna sat frozen and watched from a few feet away. She remained frozen even when his breathing had ceased, and only when she was certain that he was dead did she crawl forward towards his body.

Hesitating for a moment, Janna rolled Owayne over and was greeted with unseeing bloodshot eyes, and a face made nearly unrecognizable by the deep scratches she had dug into the flesh of his cheeks. Shaking hands reached for the helmet left beside him, and with a frustrated shriek Janna brought the hard metal down on his face again and again until his nose was caved in to his skull.

Taking with her the bloody helmet, she thrust open the door, her gaze widening for a moment as she found the same guard standing just outside the door. She could see in the dim light that his dirty face was tear-streaked.

The King is dead, she stated, her tone icy. Has the final gate been breached?

Swallowing hard, the man answered in a wobbling tone: not yet, Your Grace.

Good, she answered, and shoved the helmet into his hands. Your orders are to have it opened. To have the men stand down...and to welcome them into our walls. Bring them this as proof.

Your Grace -- the man spoke, though Janna had already begun to make her way down the hallway. Dismissing him, she asked:

Fetch the Queen mother, my brother, and my ladies before you do. Send them to my chambers.

Alister, Gaelis, Celessa, and five ladies arrived not long after Janna had reached her apartments. All immediately demanded answers, which Janna refrained from giving. The King would like us to take sanctuary, she said simply, you have a half-hour to gather your things. Take all the gold and jewelry you have, understand? If you are not back we will leave without you.

Only when the women had gone and Celessa had been escorted to a seat where she could continue her prayers did Janna quietly relay the truth to Alister. Their greatest chance at safety would be to take shelter within the walls of the temple -- and with the devout Celessa among them Janna doubted that the oracle would have any reason to turn them away. Additionally, the ladies of her household were loyal friends -- but beyond that, each was the daughter of a powerful house. Having them as allies would prove crucial, but having them as bargaining chips could prove necessary. Until it was decided which role would prove more important, the fact that they were able-bodied and could carry more gold and jewelry than Janna and Alister alone was enough.

When the party regrouped, they made a careful trek down into one of the many passageways that existed beneath the structure of the keep. As children, Janna and Alister had spent hours scaring one another and themselves in the neglected dark tunnels -- now their existence served as their only hope in reaching the temple unharmed. The group moved quickly across the sizable distance, with Janna and Alister taking the lead and relying upon old memories to guide them. Though both siblings knew that the passageways were forgotten by most -- their existence was considered by some to just be a myth -- they nonetheless held their breath and strained to listen for any sign of company. As they did this, they also attempted to assuage the constant quiet inquiries of Celessa: when will Owayne be along?

Soon, Mother, Janna replied numbly, he will come soon.

Grimly, pieces of him were already with them -- his flesh was still stuck beneath the Queen’s fingernails, though she’d washed away the blood caked around the appendages in a basin of water in her room.

As Janna had suspected, the presence of the pious Queen Mother hastened their reception by the temple’s priestesses, who escorted them directly to the High Oracle’s modest lodgings. As they moved through the candlelit temple, they could hear the blaring horns of surrender intermingle with the shouting of men and clang of metal. When the group was gathered into the High Oracle’s apartments, the sound was still dimly present. The elder man was still dressed in the clothes he had slept in when he appeared before the group. He was silent for a long moment as he regarded them, and then spoke knowingly: the King has fallen.

When Janna nodded, Celessa fell to her knees in a screaming sob.

When Janna and her brood had been escorted into the stone keep on the temple’s property which served as sanctuary, the first signs of sunrise were upon them. The air smelt of fire, and plumes of smoke could still be seen rising in several spots on the horizon. The clamor of the outside world was removed, but Janna imagined it had not abated -- and would not for some time. The only sound to keep them company now would be the prayers of the young priestesses, or Celessa’s weeping. The dowager queen had not looked in Janna’s direction since the death of her son had been revealed. It hurt Janna to think what her good-mother would think of her if she discovered what Janna had done to him before and after he’d succumbed to the poison he’d taken.

It would be hours -- if not days -- before they could have any news. Janna suspected the new King would know of their location long before she had much information on him. She only hoped that he had some respect of the common religion and laws of sanctuary. If he did not, he could just as well have them ripped from their beds and dragged out into the street.

The Queen -- now dowager queen -- had just begun to rest her eyes when she awoke to Alister coaxing her awake; crouching beside the bed she had been provided.

I have to leave, he said simply. I have to go home.

Janna sat up quickly in bed as his words registered, to voice a harsh whisper as she replied: do you understand that we’ve lost a war? Do you know what is waiting for you outside these walls?

Owayne said that father and Randall were likely to be dead, Alister answered, his expression darkening. Janna’s expression similarly crumpled, though she said nothing as her brother went on. If that is so, I am the Lord of Cloud’s Crest now. Our bannermen are scattered here, and some will have died or been taken prisoner. I have to protect our home. Once I am safely amongst our allies, I can negotiate with the Usurper to have you and Gaelis returned North as well. Alister paused, and Janna could see a flash of pain across his features. And the baby, too.

It’s too dangerous, Janna replied, though she knew it was too late to sway her brother’s mind. His answer was a soft I know, and the siblings said nothing more for a long moment as they embraced one another. When Alister stood to leave, Janna swore her promise: I will protect your wife, and your little son when he arrives.

When Alister was gone, Janna whispered a prayer on his behalf.

#prologue #000

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