#even after being kicked off to golarion it's not like he could have like. a teacher dfjg

[rivilu]

Wait. Logistically speaking. Would Elluin even know how to read.

#i've had this in the drafts contemplating for days #like. he had a frankenstein creature situation of being reborn with no memory of anything. #and even if language magically stuck with him you got the First World time thing going on #something something you're alone after coming into a new existence. You're on a field. It's day. And you exist #and you exist. and you exist. and you exist. and you exist. It's day. #is it the same? is it different? #you exist. nothing changes. you slowly lose your mind. it's still day. you exist. you exist. #thorns grow around you. under you. under your skin. do you have skin? The more you struggle the worse it gets. It's still day #anything he did know he forgot at that time so #even after being kicked off to golarion it's not like he could have like. a teacher dfjg #half of it was spent in an inq asylum which was not at all traumatizing and from which he got out in a very moral way for sure #and after that he was scraping by on the streets until areelu snatched him up #like. makes sense he's be able to Speak common- as this all takes place through an indeterminate amount of years #up to interpretation since he wasnt keeping track but the post first world era alone was probably many centuries. #but when would he have been able to pick up reading? Since he'd have to do it on his own too. #not like a fucked up little not quite but mostly fey creature could go up to any temple and expect to be trusted enough for charity #the hc is that the wound winds up disguising his fey with a mortal soul business since it overshadows it. before that though nope! #he'd have been clocked as fey by anyone that can sense it even in elf form #basically. Galfrey what have you fucking done putting this guy in charge dfjghfh #maybe he can read a LITTLE. just enough to make do at first at least #would probably try to get some help on the sly because there's a minimum of two companions that should Never Know (Nenio and Daeran) #Nenio for reasons you can probably guess Daeran less because Ellu cares about being insulted- #more so because he doesn't have anything funny to retort with. like yeah i can't. kind of sad isn't it. and now the conversation is awkward #great and now i'm thinking about how much he deserved to live again #There's some great parallels with Orion actually. They were in a very similar mental place at the climax of their respective stories #dare i say Elluin actually deserved to live more. Which is why he doesn't #oc: elluin

[weavercobra]

The Burden of Divinity

This story follows up events that happened in one of our games. And if you're familiar with Pathfinder lore, then it probably requires a bit of explaining about some of the changes in our settings.

So first off, Maya is a snake goddess we've invented for the setting. She's the mother of Ydersius.

Speaking of Ydersius, there's been some adjustments there for a number of reasons. Evil gods in Pathfinder(And other similar settings) often suffer from a problem I like to sum up as: "Who the fuck would worship this guy?" Setting aside any personal opinions, I can't think of any deity considered evil by their followers outside of some extreme edgelord cases. In fact, the idea of an evil religion worshipped by evil idea has more often been an attempt at discrediting others. So we've been going through the pantheons with a surgeon's kit and a saw to rejigger things.

And as for Ydersius being evil, well, hard to find any information on the fan wikis of what he's done that's so evil or which of his creeds that are so bad. Really, I guess he's evil because he's the patron deity of the sekmin, aka the serpentfolk.

So let's talk sekmin. They are evil. Their wiki pages contains sentences like : "it is unknown how many races the serpentfolk exterminated for pure pleasure.", "view all non-telepathic creatures as slaves or food," "They feel no love or attachment towards other serpentfolk, even their own mates or children." I mean wow, laying it on thick here aren't we?

Now, I'm not saying the sekmin empire wasn't problematic. Empires tend to be problematic. No doubt the sekmin, even removing their inherent evil alignment, would have a sordid history. But if they aren't inherently evil, well...

Here's a line from the wiki I find relevant. "The destruction of Azlant caused by Earthfall saved the remaining serpentfolk from complete elimination."

And if the serpentfolk aren't inherently evil, then you might have to call this what it actually is.

An attempt at genocide.

Which brings us to Azlant and Aroden. And I'll be honest, our read on both of those don't paint either as good guys. Azlant had Xin banished for daring to suggest they had anything to learn from non-humans and we have no reason to doubt it was an isolated case. The fact their descendants turned into space Nazis in Starfinder seem like a natural conclusion.

And Aroden, beloved hero of humanity. The list of things he's fucked up, both before and after divinity is quite long. There's the stuff he did in Arcadia with the Veins of Creation. Stole the aeon orbs from the xulgaths because humanity would use them better, condemning the land of Vask to death by radiation. And his patronage of humanity is probably why you can't throw a rock on Golarion without it landing in a human country. So our conclusion is simple.

Aroden was a racist, imperialist douchebag who favored humanity at the cost of all other sentient beings and the universe is better off without him. And Azlant was a empire morally no better than the one it sought to eradicate from existence. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

If you managed to make your way through all that opinionated rambling, thank you and here's the story. Oh, and if you happen to notice any similarities to plot points from Paizo's Serpent's Skull campaign, then that's because I borrowed liberally from it to set up our own campaign in Saventh-Yhi.

Unconsciousness had been a mercifully numb experience. Her mind had just floated through the void, briefly unburdened by memory, by sorrow, by duty and by anger. For the first time in a long while, she was at peace, cut off from anything that could hurt her. But then reality slipped painfully into her mind, like a white-hot dagger between her ribs. Awareness of how her body ached bedevilled her, from the tip of her tail to the fork of her tongue, every muscle pulsating with an unpleasant aching. And as her pain dragged her mind kicking and screaming out of the numbing depths, thoughts started to flow in. And with them, the ceaseless memories. The memories of the invasion, seeing wounded after wounded be dragged in from the frontline, watching five of her countrymen bleed out in the time a healer could mend the wounds of one. She remembered offering words of encouragement to those going to and arriving from the battlefields, but towards the end, her sermons had sounded hollow and deceitful even to herself. And she remembered the fall, the devastation and the evacuation. Helping seal her fellow sekmin in stasis chambers, promising they would be safe, promising they wouldn't be found. All lies, of course. It was a desperate gambit and there was no certainty. She had half expected never to see the light of day again as the magic of the pod took hold, sealing her in dreamless preservation. She remembered her awakening alongside others of her kind, their confused staggering into a new, alien world, so different from the one she had left behind. She remembered the mission, to resurrect their empire now that their hated enemies had vanished from the surface of the planet. And how she had been sent out to gather information about their lost capital. It had been a harrowing journey. Everything had been so different and she had to apply all her skills and powers to pass herself off as a human scholar. She knew the future of her kind hinged on the success of her work. It had gone well, until the island. She had managed to get off the accursed rock, but her mission had depended on the kindness of a human. And they had let her go. She felt that was only the case because they didn't know the truth, but still, she had remembered it. And she had tried to warn the human's fellows, that only death would await them in the jungle and the lost city hidden therein. They had ignored her warnings. She had been anxious. And angry. For with them had travelled a being, a serpent, an avatar. An avatar of her. The one who had abandoned them in their hour of greatest need. And then they had finally met face to face. And Aethaxise had unleashed all her frustration, pain and feelings of betrayal in once venomous tirade aimed at the divine figure.

And Maya had smote her in response.

That was the second time she slipped in the dark expecting never to wake up. So the return of her consciousness was as surprising as it was unwelcome. Slowly, her eyes began registering the sunlight shining down on her. She hissed weakly and turned her head to avoid the direct glare of the overhead light. It took her a moment to ponder the oddity of the sunlight, before realising that the roof was missing. She groaned and tried to move, her body protesting the action. Her neck slowly bent, giving her a chance to observe what was left of her surroundings. Most of the walls and the roof had been blown clear out, even taking with it some of the adjacent outer masonry, exposing much of the inside of the structure to the outside. Her inner ear began registering the distant sounds of birds and bugs, alongside other noises of the jungle. She rolled over on her belly, splaying out her limbs to soak up the warm rays, feeling its heat sink into her body, slowly helping her wake up. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, catching nearby scents and delivering them into her mouth, letting her register them. She could smell that Krathus was nearby, though she was uncertain of his condition. Mingled with it was the smell of his companion Xantheithes. They were really close, by her estimate. She hoped they had survived. But mixed in was another scent. One she had only gotten familiar with very recently, but that none the less immediately filled her with rage. Her anger fuelled her strength, allowing her to plant the palms of her hands against the stone floor, pushing her upper body upwards, straining her neck to lift her head up and slowly turn it, while uttering a hoarse and exceedingly venomous: “You.”

The person she was speaking to looked like a giant cobra, her scales a pure, alabaster white, her eyes a vibrant purple save for the black slit in the middle. The pale serpent had been eyeing something in the distance, but upon hearing the utterance, had turned her attention to the speaker. Maya took a moment to note the sekmin's appearance, that of an emerald-scaled snake with arms and legs, before addressing her with: “So you're awake, little one. I trust that you will have learnt to behave, at least enough to have a civil conversation. Otherwise, I am more than capable of banishing you into unconsciousness again as many times as I need to make my point clear.”

Aethaxise responded with a growl, as she slowly rolled over on her back, trying to eye the other two in the demolished room.

She noted Krathus nearby. A sekmin like herself, though his scales were a combination of red and black. He was lying up against the only remaining wall in the room, one containing a detailed genealogy of the invading humans, which he had found amusingly interesting. Still protectively wrapped around him was the massive ophidian Xantheithes, a great white cobra. One that in many ways resembled Maya's current form. Not too surprising, as Xantheithes' species had been sacred to her faith, empowered over many generations by the divine waters of her temples. They were a clever species, with more than a few developing full-on sapience, Xantheithes being one of them.

Maya followed her gaze. “Your companions are both alive, little one, that I can assure you. Though painful, that attack could not have killed a fly, much less any of you.” She paused, her tongue flickering in and out. “And it seems they are waking up too.”

The prone form of Krathus stirred slightly. Reflexively, his tongue darted out of his mouth and his limbs twitched. He managed to roll the back of his head along the scales of his serpentine companion, giving him a chance to inspect the room. There was a moment of quiet, before he with a dry voice stated: “We're alive I see.”

“That you are,” the divine serpent confirmed. “And I have no intentions of killing you. All I want to do is talk.” Her voice took on a sharper edge, as she added: “However, as I informed your friend, I am more than willing to demonstrate what the wrath of a deity feels like if a polite conversation is too much to ask for.”

Krathus weakly held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I'll vastly prefer that we have a polite conversation.”

Aethaxise hissed angrily, but said nothing.

The red-and-black scaled sekmin leaned to the side to inspect his ophidian companion. With the inability to close his eyes, it would have been hard for a human to see whether Xantheithes was awake or not, but for one who shared many physical similarities like Krathus, it was easy enough to detect the tell-tale signs that the massive cobra was slowly beginning to register his surroundings. The entire length of the ophidian's body jerked slightly and with some effort, he managed to lift his massive head slightly. “You hurt?” he managed to croak, still dazed.

“No. The pain is merely superficial.” Krathus twitched slightly as he moved his tail. “But ever present. I suspect it shall pass very soon though.” He turned his gaze to observe the avatar. “So, you wanted a talk.” “In a moment, little one. My own companions will be with us shortly,” Maya said, looking to a nearby set of stairs going down. “I'll advice that you gather your strength in the meantime.”

“Oh, and what exactly would we be gathering our strength for?” Aethaxise pointedly inquired.

“Mostly sitting up. But if you prefer to lie on the floor as you do now, far be it from me to tell you to do otherwise, little one,” Maya replied. She turned away again. “And there he is.”

Yet another oversized white cobra slithered up the stairs. To one unfamiliar with dealing with serpents, he might have seemed identical to Xantheithes, but for everyone present, the exact pattern of his scales was different enough to mark him as a completely unique individual. As he slithered across the ground, the back of his hood became visible, upon which the colouration of his scales formed an insignia of a snake holding an arrow in its mouth, encircling a bow. He made his way over next to Maya and curled up in what among snakes passed for a sitting position. “I've checked up with everyone else in the building. Nothing serious for most of them. Though Random has taken some considerable damage, including massive cracks in her exoskeleton. It'll take some time to heal.”

“I gather she also managed to dish out some considerable damage,” Maya commented. “I was concerned Yaras might develop spheksophobia. But I digress. Good job, Lechaim.” She refocused on the others. “Now then, I guess saying you have a bone to pick with me would be an understatement.”

“You... You...” Aethexise managed with no small amount of venom, as she struggled to push herself off the ground. “You abandoned us. We were slaughtered by the hundreds and you were nowhere to be seen. Even when your own son died you... You weren't there. Am I supposed to be grateful because your priests ran around trying to fix things? AM I SUPPOSED...!” “AETHEXISE!” Krathus managed. “Calm... Calm down. I do not want to be blasted again and if I have to get Xantheithes to gag you, I will. I've already been punched by a deity once today, I do not care to repeat that experience.” The other sekmin growled, her claws scraping across the stone floor. Silence reigned for a while. “Where were you when we needed you?” she finally managed to ask, her voice barely a whisper.

Maya sighed. “Little one, I did everything I could. But if I had stepped in more than I had, what would the results be? You think their gods would have sat on the sideline? No. Had I stepped in, I would have ignited a divine war. It would have been a catastrophe.”

“Some would say it already was,” Xantheithes commented grumpily.

“True. It was grim,” Maya agreed. “The fact that things could be worse is, I understand, little comfort for all of you.”

“And what about your son?” Aethexise managed venomously, slowly getting up on her feet. “Even if all our suffering meant nothing, shouldn't his death have meant something?”

Krathus winced, almost prepared to eat another bolt of divine retribution from Maya.

Indeed, the ophidian avatar's tail swayed dangerously and her hood flared slightly at the provocation. But she took a deep breath and continued with: “Despite what you think, the harm done to my son has been a painful memory beyond description for all these passing aeons. It would be arrogant of me to claim that my pain was greater than what was felt by any of you, but it was there. And while I wanted nothing more than to bathe them all in poisonous vapours until their meat dripped from their bones, I am subject to responsibilities far beyond your reckoning. For one thing, we deities have an agreement among us that limits our ability to directly influence the mortal world. Even this avatar, which I created to circumvent that, is pushing against what is considered acceptable. Had I interfered more than I did, and I did everything I could, I would have started a divine war with the Azlanti pantheon, which would have benefited no one, not even you. And no, little one, I do not expect that to suddenly make the attempted genocide of your people seem less severe. I am merely trying to get you to understand the position I was in and to some degree, still am.” “But the Azlanti Empire fell,” Krathus stated inquisitionally. “According to the history books, they're gone. Not that I ever believed you owed us anything, but why not aid us in the aftermath? It cannot have passed you by that we barely managed to survive.”

“Again, it comes back to divine politics. Any attempt by me to help you would be opposed by... The Last Azlanti,” Maya managed grimly. “By the time there was a world worth coming back to, he was a deity. He did not dare move on you because I would visit retribution, but the same was also true the other way around. And even after he died, there was still limits to what I could do. In fact, I've searched for an opportunity such as this for a long time.” She paused. “I think Ydersius has given you the wrong impression of the burden of divinity. You were his creation, his children. He cared only for you and was with you through thick and thin. You might have come to expect similar levels of attention from the rest of us. But my concerns go far beyond you. If I had acted out of hand, even if I had shielded you with all my divine power from retribution, others might have suffered. For example, by targeting my followers among the skittermanders.” “The... What?” Xantheithes managed to ask, utterly perplexed.

“They're not even native to this solar system,” Lechaim replied. “Cute fellows. If silly.” Aethaxise just stared.

“I have followers across the entire universe,” Maya continued. “I must always consider how my actions will affect all of them. I am not saying this to diminish your suffering. Only to enlighten you to the burden I carry. My followers number more than you could count in a lifetime and every single action I take can have consequences for them. That is the true cost of divinity. And that was why I couldn't throw everything away to help you. That is why it has taken me so long to find a way to help at all. Didn't matter what I wanted to do, because I had the responsibility to care for all who worship me. And even for the world beyond my faith, for surely a divine war could have rend the planet in two and that is at the small end of the scale. You think you know what devastation looks like, little one? I have witnessed what happens when gods and titans make war, when entire clusters of stars are vaporised by stray shots and the very fabric of time and space buckles under the blows of warring combatants. I would not wish that on anyone. Not even the Azlanti.” She went quiet, her head lowering slightly. “But I am trying to make things better and that is why I am here. I truly just wish to help.”

Everyone was quiet for a while.

“Well... I guess... Maybe I understand,” Aethexise managed, her voice hollow and drained. “But we don't need your help.” Maya shook her head. “No, little one, you do. I know what you and yours are planning, and if it would work, I would be more than happy to stay out of your way. But you are about to make a grave mistake that could very well create the type of disaster I was trying to avoid.”

“So you know of the operation we've started then,” Krathus surmised running his claws along his lower jaw in a contemplative gesture. “Fascinating. And you're saying there is some sort of flaw in this plan then?” “Indeed. But before we get to that, I know someone you ought to meet.” Maya returned her attention to Lechaim. “Is she ready?” “She is,” the other white cobra confirmed.

“Alright then.” She turned towards the stairs. “You can make your entrance now.”

Silence reigned in the ruined room, as the sounds of someone ascending the stairs was heard. A figure made their way into the light of the distantly setting sun, a human woman. Her head was framed by short-cropped brown hair, her body clad in dull coppery plates of metal that looked like they had seen their fair share of wear and tear. A torn leathery cloak enveloped her and a massive sword was sheathed on her back. Bandages were wrapped tightly around the left part of her head, obscuring one of her eyes, and her left arm hung limply in a sling.

The patient quiet in the ruined room immediately changed character, taking on a grim and cold mood.

Krathus tried to jump up with a hiss, only stopped by Xantheithes protectively curling around him, the serpent's hood flaring open.

Aethexise was not so hindered. Instead, motivated by a burst of adrenaline and unyielding rage, she leapt from the floor and galloped forward, claws outstretched and fangs unfolding in her mouth, deadly venom dripping from their tips. She leapt, ready to tear the woman's face off, only to find herself caught in mid-air by Maya's tail, which quickly wrapped around the struggling sekmin. “Let me go,” the green-scaled cleric hissed furiously. “Why is she here? WHY IS SHE HERE!? WHY ARE YOU NOT DEAD!?”

“Well, that went about as well as expected,” Lechaim muttered.

The woman, for her part, stood unfazed, though with a forlorn expression.

“I must concur,” Krathus hissed, finally untangling himself from his aide. “Don't tell me you brought her of all people back.” “Oh no, little one, this came as quite the surprise to me too,” Maya said, shifting her tail to maintain her grip on the furiously screaming Aethexise. “But I brought her here because she has something important to say.”

“So, what, we hear her out and then kill her?” Xantheithes venomously commented, bundling up behind the red-and-black scaled sekmin.

“If that would fix anything, I'd tell you to go ahead,” the woman said. “But as it is, I suspect it would make things much worse.”

“Indeed. So, are you willing to hear her out?” Maya inquired.

Krathus eyed his fellow sekmin. Aethaxise was now little more than a pair of serpentine eyes glaring murderously from atop the rim of the avatar's pale coils. “We're not getting much choice here, are we?” “No.” “So be it.” The sekmin wizard sat back down, leaning against the piled body of Xantheithes. “This is not a case of mistaken identity, right? You are Savith, the very same one who lead the campaign against our people. The one who murdered our deity.” “Guilty as charged,” she said in a tone of voice indicating that she indeed thought it something to be guilty of. “As for how I survived, I'd say barely. After my fight with Ydersius, the divine backlash left me on the brink of death. Your people found me before my fellow Azlanti did. Dragged me away from the site of battle and stuffed me in one of your stasis pods. I figure it was to interrogate me later. Or punish me. Probably both. Either way, they never came back for me. And I was never found by my comrades.” She went quiet, as she began to pace. “Once I was freed from the pod by happen-stance I began wandering this new world. That's how I ran into the Mystical Peacekeeping Society and through them, Maya.” She paused again, looking contemplative. “Well, first of all, I feel I owe you an explanation for what happened. From your perspective, our campaign must have seemed quite unfounded.” “What? No apology?” Xantheithes sourly inquired.

“Could any apology I could come up with ever truly suffice?” Savith asked. “I am sorry, but I can't imagine that means much to you.”

The serpent didn't respond, instead just lowering his head as he kept observing her.

“So as I was saying, Azlanti seers predicted that enemies of our people were gathering to unleash a devastating weapon upon us. Our leaders determined that those enemies had to be your people. I was asked to lead the campaign. And I did. Because I was convinced I was protecting my people from a grave threat by doing so.” She shook her head. “I've had many centuries now to contemplate how foolish that was. Me and my squad were, well, for us the goal was strictly military. To take out any part of your empire that could be used against us. But for most of my fellow Azlanti, that translated into making sure none of you were left alive. And I claim no innocence here, because I paved the way for those that burnt your cities and butchered your people. And I let it happen, because ultimately, I valued Azlant more than anything else. That's as bad as if I had done those deeds myself. And to make things even worse, turns out the whole campaign was founded on animosity. Our leaders had picked you as the target, not because there was any actual evidence of you preparing to attack us, but because our nations had had... Issues getting along.”

Maya heard a murmuring from her coils. She shifted them slightly, allowing Aethexise to get her entire head out. “It was the aboleths, yes? I've read all about it,” she hissed venomously. “They uplifted you and then decided to cast you down again.”

“Can't say I blame them,” Savith admitted. “But yes, that was the case.”

“So why are you here?” Krathus pointedly asked. “Think you can somehow make up for your actions?” “No. I can't imagine what I would have to do to accomplish that,” the Azlanti general replied. “I could do good deeds from now until the end of time and I don't think it would make up for the blood I have on my hands. But that is not going to stop me from doing the right thing. And the right thing to do is helping you people not unleash a disaster upon yourself.” “Really? The Azlanti general wouldn't want to see the sekmin self-destruct,” Aethaxise commented. “Why do I find that hard to believe? Even if what you said is true, which I doubt.” “As I said, I've had a lot of time to think.”

“What do you mean by that?” Xantheithes inquired.

“The stasis pod was flawed. It stilled my body, but not my mind. I've had the passing of many centuries to think and I've come to realise that, as different as we are, a lot of the things I looked down upon the Sekmin Empire for were the same sins that the Azlanti committed,” Savith explained. “Azlant is never coming back. And that's for the best. But your kind has a chance and your current plan risks snuffing that out.” “Enough with the vagueness,” Krathus demanded. “What is it you claim to know?”

Savith sighed. “Alright. Sorry. You're planning to resurrect Ydersius by reconnecting his skull with his body, which you lot managed to preserve in one of your hidden vaults. But it's not going to work. At least, not in the way you think it will. The thing is, you have his body and you might find his head, but what you don't realise is that a piece is still missing. His soul. The Ydersius you'd resurrect would be a divine being without thought, without memory, a soulless wild husk. Barely a wild beast, but with the power of a god. Such a being could wreck a horrendous amount of havoc.” “That's nonsense,” Aethexise hissed. “His soul is still among us. My connection may have faded, but I can still call upon his power.” “As could Tovkuc and he was a recent initiate,” Krathus added.

“The charau-ka?” Maya added, her hood vibrating slightly. “Yes, you sure taught him well. Between the attempted human sacrifices and generally unpleasant demeanour.”

Aethexise harrumphed indignantly.

“To get back to the subject,” the human added, trying to disarm the brewing conflict. “You are right, but his soul did not lock itself away in his skull or his body. It instead fled into a nearby vessel, one that was not dying. It...” She paused and sighed. She grabbed the bandages around her head and began unwrapping them. As the bandages gave way, stunned silence filled the ruined room. Underneath, her hairline had receded and much of her skin had changed into brown scales, her left eye a softy glowing orange orb, the pupil slightly misshapen. Taking the opportunity to continue, she unwrapped her arm, revealing more scales and that her nails had twisted into semi-sharp claws. “The nearest vessel,” she stated with finality. “Was me.”

Krathus looked like he was trying to say something, but he only succeeded in moving his jaws.

Maya looked to Aethaxise and slowly let the stunned sekmin loose. The green-scaled cleric slowly stumbled over towards the human, seeing in her alterations fragments of her deity. Carefully, almost as if she was afraid to break a pleasant dream, she reached out and laid a hand on Savith's scaled arm. Immediately, she retracted the appendage, as if she had gotten an electric shock. She stared, first at Savith, then her hand.

“Well?” Xantheithes asked. “You have the closest connection to him. Is it true?” “I... Yes. I could sense him,” Aethaxise said slowly, utterly befuddled. “But... How?” “As I said, I was closest. I am not chosen or favoured by Ydersius if that's what you're worrying about,” Savith said. “It's sheer coincidence. But we've had the passing of millennia to get to know each other. And Ydersius would very much like you to not resurrect his body without his soul present. So I need you to contact your fellows and tell them the news.” “Well, that is amazing,” Krathus said. “Ehm, slight problem. We can't.” “You can't? Of course you can't, that would be way too easy,” Lechaim sighed. “So what is it?”

“We have no way of contacting our leader in the depths of Ilmurea,” the red-and-black scaled wizard explained. “We were to set up an outpost and gather local resources and subjects in order to dissuade intruders into Ilmurea. But for safety's sake, we have no way to contact them, to minimize risks of them being tracked if, say, we were to be killed.” “And even if we were to get into contact with them, what do you think they'll believe? Your ridiculously improbably story, or that you're there to finish the job and has managed to brainwash us?” Aethexise asked. “Or, what, you gonna let every single priest we've got feel you up to confirm our Lord of Coiling Poison's presence?”

“I would have preferred that over having to storm your sacred sanctuary. Again,” Savith sighed exasperated. “Sicva must be blessing my journey, because you're making it sound like I'll have to storm in there and jam Ydersius' soul back into him myself and that every single one of your people will throw themselves at me to stop me. Again.” “That is an accurate summary of this stupidity,” Xantheithes commented. “Of course, you're also forgetting that you have no way to actually getting to Ilmurea. And even if you got there, you alone would not be enough.” “That is true, little one,” Maya agreed. “However, I am sure we can gather allies to help us, with a little luck. And as for a way down, we'll just have to keep an eye out for opportunities.” “Great. Seems like it's gonna be war all over again,” Savith noted in a tired voice, as she sat down on a piece of the wall. “I came here to help, not to fight you.” “Sadly, you Azlanti managed to impart on us the importance of not trusting humans,” Aethexise noted. “So, what now?”

“We need a plan. First, we must canvas the city. No doubt the Azlanti made many changes during their occupation,” Krathus noted, looking back to the wall with the genealogy.

“You do that, little ones. For now, I have someone else I'll need to talk with,” Maya said, as she moved towards the stairs, Lechaim following her. “I trust that I can leave you be without you all attempting to kill each other.” Aethaxise emitted an annoyed low hiss, as the two serpents slithered downstairs.

The avatar and her companion made their way through the repurposed ruin, finding in the middle of it a massive structure like an oversized wasp-hive. Maya observed it for a moment, turning to her companion and asking: “She's in there?” “I presume as much. I tended to her wounds out here, but I wasn't going to shove her into the hive,” Lechaim replied.

“I see.” The divine cobra turned back to the hive. She noted a faint buzzing sound. “You can come out, little one. I merely wish to talk.”

From the dark depths of the hive, several crimson hexagons lit up, outlining two massive compound eyes. “Forgive me if I don't feel in the mood to entertain any more intruders.”

“My apologies. But I had little other way of talking with you,” Maya noted. “I gathered from the others you put up quite the fight. I saw the wounds you inflicted. You're skilled. And I respect skill. To keep things short and sweet, I wish to for us to cooperate.” “Cooperate?” came the doubtful, thrumming reply. “You invade my home, strike down my children and now you want to cooperate?” “Well, you made a deal with the sekmin. Surely you understand the benefit of working together?” Maya explained. “And your children are alive, if dazed. I dare say we did our best not to cause them undue harm. But I get you. You want something more from me. And I'm willing to provide. After all, this ruin must impose certain... Limits. What if I offered to help secure you a better nesting ground?”

There was a pause, followed by a clacking sound as a massive wasp crawled out of the hive, her cracked exoskeleton wrapped in gauze. “You have my attention.” “The Mystical Peacekeeping Society, the ones who I'm helping and whom you fought, could use the assistance of a powerful predator like you. And they in turn possess a lot of territory, a lot of which is unsettled and which I can guarantee you they'd be willing to hand over to you in exchange for assistance,” Maya explained. “How does that sound, Random?”

The mutated wasp queen named Random paused as she mulled it over, her wings twitching occasionally. “I can see little reason why you'd lie,” she admitted. “You'd all just have killed me when you had the chance if this was to get me out of the ruin. And I admit, it is getting kinda cramped. I could do with a bigger nest for me and my brood.” “Sounds like a yes to me,” Lechaim commented.

“Yeah. But if I find out you lied to me, the last thing you'll see before I puncture your eyes will be my stinger,” Random asserted. “So, when do we start?” “When can you start?” Maya asked.

“In a while. Some of my brood has been out hunting and I'd like to do a full head count before going anywhere.” “Good,” Maya noted, coiling up slightly. “Should give us time to go over some of the finer details.”

#story #pathfinder #tabletop #serpentfolk #deity

[camelliagwerm]

I was thinking what was your opinion on her role during the Latverk quest during chapter 4. It's generally not something I see brought up when someone is discussing her.

The start of it has her being uncharacteristically angry, which even the Commander can bring up on their dialogue options, and her explanation of why she wants to kill Latverk doesn't really fit her alignment. At the end of it she's even a little bit sad.

I've always wondered if she was just being hipocritical, which I find unlikely, or if her hatred of Latverk is her way of expressing subconscious feelings about her own mental illness

That's a shame, actually, because Mercy actually ends up being a fairly important quest as it provides some clues towards a conversation you have with her just as you're about to leave Alushinyrra if you're romancing her; in general during her romance in act 4, it's wise to keep her in the party at all times as she has quite a few small reactions as you traverse the city, which culminates in a conversation that can be an absolute bitch to get right. It took me about ten reloads the first time I did it to get it completely correct.

Her hatred for Latverk has nothing to do with hypocrisy or expressing her subconscious feelings. It's because he serves as a reminder of what could happen to her if she isn't careful.

For all of Camellia's love of thrillseeking, secrets and the forbidden, she relies on society to both protect her (e.g. Horgus' wealth, the Commander's reputation - "no one would dare touch a companion of the crusade commander" / "I don't need you anymore. I have [the Commander], who will protect me and hide me from justice if it comes for me.") and society's decency and morality for what she enjoys to be considered taboo. She fears losing this protection, because she knows she's fucked without it, and she won't be able to get her thrills without it either.

But the Abyss and Alushinyrra play by different rules, not Golarion's because demons are just inherently different from humanoids, and that disappoints her (below is a transcript of part of that conversation you have with her at the end of act 4):

COMM: Alushinyrra disappointed you. [...] You like to act with impunity, but you hate the thought of others acting the same way towards you. You've realized sooner or later that you'll get caught by a demon you'll be unable to deal with. You are merely afraid. And you like to kill in secret, but here killings are a common thing. What good is a secret if no one cares to unravel it? CAMI: How did you find out? Don't tell me you guessed. Really? [She furtively brushes a tear from her eye and clutches her own shoulders] How dare you...understand me? How did you manage to see into my soul? COMM: I'm not prying and I haven't forced a peek into your soul. You let me in, because you wanted to.

The only other time she is disappointed in something is when she kills Horgus and it doesn't give her the same relief as any of her other kills. Why is that? Because Horgus was anticipating it. He knew the moment she asked him to meet her at their Kenabres manor to 'talk' that she wanted to kill him - why else would he go to the trouble of making a will that secures his legacy, even if it's passed onto Camellia? He's also drunk, presumably to numb the pain of knowing that essentially his execution awaits him. Because Horgus was anticipating her wanting to kill him, even put a plan in place, and he didn't put up a fight when she did kill him, it doesn't give her that same thrill or kick that other times did; and likely because, after the visit to the Ten Thousand Delights in Alushinyrra, she built up what it would feel like for her to kill Horgus in her head based off how the pleasure slave polymorphed to look like her father reacted. And her father didn't react that way.

As for Camellia not wanting to deal with the consequences of her actions: why should she? She's a spoiled rich girl and her father has never denied her anything she's asked for, and same goes for the Commander if you've been indulging her whims as mine did. And because she's never been denied anything - whether that's something small like getting a new dress in the latest fashion or being allowed to kill someone (like Prelate Hulrun or Ramien, the former of which is the most significant NPC you can allow her to kill) - she hates being told 'no' (if you consistently tell her to stop killing, she'll turn on you eventually, saying she's "sick and tired of all [your] rules") or seeing the consequences of her actions come to fruition (e.g. if the Commander hands her over to Anevia, she apparently has a full on mental breakdown). In both cases, she snaps in some way. Horgus and the Commander are her protectors and shields - but they both stand to benefit from keeping her around and letting her do what she wants. Daddy dearest has a dark secret of his own - that he's not the real Horgus - so it benefits him to indulge her because if she gets caught, Horgus fears she will expose all of the Gwerms' dirty secrets - including the fact Horgus killed her mother and also pretended he was the real Horgus all these years. As for the Commander, they benefit from having a strong sword arm in her, they might have bought into her 'killings are sacrifices necessary for her to speak to spirits and find out how to heal the Worldwound' cover story; and if he's romancing her, then well - as she quips at the end of A Final Drop - "I'll accept you for who you are, because that's what friends do." / "And because you like having sex with me."

In my opinion, she's angry about Latverk because she sees herself in him, what she might be like if she was to remain in Alushinyrra (which she considers doing - in that same romance conversation with her just before leaving for Colyphyr, she admits she considered abandoning you and living in Alushinyrra permanently, but her discussion with the Commander dissuades her). Latverk is using his status as an aasimar in the Abyss with 'good intentions' to free the pleasure slaves found in the Fleshmarkets to conceal his true nature, just as she uses her associations with Horgus and the Commander and her ability to talk to spirits to conceal hers. They both rely on society's perceptions of them to operate. But unlike her - providing she is, of course, alive - Latverk made a crucial mistake: he got sloppy and one of his victims escaped. It doesn't take much digging for the Commander to find out Latverk's story about someone wanting to kill him for his good intentions is well, kinda bullshit. But we know that none of the demons would care about it (because killings are a common thing, and demons generally believe in survival of the fittest and might makes right; Deskari is on top for a reason, as is Nocticula) - it would have to be someone who has some dirt on him. The person who wants to kill him would have been a potential victim of his, and she wants to bring him to justice, even if it's more vigilantism instead of being done through the proper channel.

Camellia advocates for him being punished as it serves her to remind her that she cannot make the same mistake, because the one time she was too sloppy (A Noble Intent, where Anevia is the one who discovers that the lad was missing), she could have faced the consequences of her actions if the Commander hadn't decided to keep her around. When they go to deliver that vigilante justice to Latverk, her anger has turned to fear and sadness, accepting that she will likely have the same fate because she will end up messing with someone that she won't be able to handle, even with the fragment of mythic powers that she's gained from associating with the Commander; she has also realized by this point that her depravity won't shock anyone in the Abyss aside from the annoyingly self-righteous (e.g. the Hand of the Inheritor, who is horrified into silence if you agree to let Camellia kill the polymorphed pleasure slave.) No one gives a shit about Latverk torturing those aasimar women except the one who escaped - so it doesn't shock anyone, just like Camellia enjoys shocking people (even though Valerius isn't shocked by what she does because he's Urgathoan and human sacrifice isn't exactly an unknown thing for him, she gets a voyeuristic thrill in him watching her commit these acts and that's something very new for her.)

I can see how her reaction to Latverk can be seen as odd or paradoxical, but really it does make total sense when you consider the similarities between them and remember that Camellia is reliant on a few of Golarion's rules to get the kicks she wants.

#anonymous #answered #*camellia appreciation week #this sounds coherent in my head but it's also 5:30am here and my sleep has been all over the place #it's a good quest actually and i approach it as being like a mini companion quest for camellia