#silaena arendae

[dmagedgoods]

Owlcatober Day 6 - Family: Memories

The painting captured a moment so unburdened, so joyful, and free of the darkness that would soon erase the light and leave a deep, bleeding crack never to be fully closed again. Silaena’s golden hair shined in the sun, as warm as her loving smile. She could almost hear her gentle voice, encouraging her boy, telling him stories, laughing with him. By Iomedae, he had been so young. So innocent. His tiny hands gripped the seesaw in fearless glee. Time was a troublesome concept that tended to slip her mind in the center of this ongoing war, this ongoing battle. Years, decades of tragedy, and she herself the chosen idol of it all. Timeless. Unchanging. While the world around her moved forward and forward without any stopping. It never had been her decision. But it had been her duty. She wore the loneliness with the same determined pride as her crown. And still, in some secret moments, she wondered if, at any point, it would have been possible not to carry it all alone. It was a naïve, unreasonable thought and she should not be ungrateful, for Iomedae was always at her side. Family had become a foreign, faraway memory. She remembered her pain over the tragedy at Heaven’s Edge like a still throbbing scar when she allowed it, while, simultaneously, she felt removed from it all with her focus forced to stay on the big picture, not a single detail of it. Would she have been able to do more for the little traumatized boy, the one single survivor of the massacre, her only living relative? She remembered a time when he had looked at her with excitement and admiration in those green, glowing eyes, behind his charming, mischievous smiles. But eventually, in becoming older, he had grown more distant, more disdainful, and outright crude in his jokes, his diversions, and every area of his life. If there was good left in him, he didn’t show it, didn't allow it. Was it – at least partly – her failure too? Would they have been able to give each other some solace in their loneliness? If she had been there for him a little more … But there was no room for distractions of this very kind. In her ever-lasting role as the queen, the leader of the crusades, her attention had been needed elsewhere, and he – born into a place that demanded to take responsibility too, if only he wouldn't ignore it – should have been able to understand, should have been strong enough to carry it. Queen Galfrey sighed and straightened her posture when she turned away from the painting. Enough of the mournful musings. Her duties awaited her.

#queen galfrey #pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pathfinder wotr #pwotr #daeran #daeran arendae #silaena arendae #my writing #dmagedtexts #owlcatober 2023 #pwotr pals #owlcatober #memories

[cassynite]

Silaena Goes Home 👀👀

HI CROW THANK YOU CROW did I ever mention i love Silaena. Well I do!!

This is a companion piece for All the Faces in Her Wake, my daeran centric fic that focuses on his relationsihp with his mother. It's not in the actual fic yet (ch3) but I've posted snippets and another short piece that reveal that in my canon, Silaena was actually as rebellious, if not more so, than Daeran in her youth--she explicitly ran away from home as a young adult for a period of about four years, before returning home and taking up the mantle of Countess Arendae. This fic details her arrival home, what she does in between her homecoming and her marriage to Count Arendae, and why specifically she came back.

I love it a lot but there's a possible chance that I won't post it because it features a very headcanony headcanon about Silaena and Daeran that I'm nearly positive is refuted in game--that Silaena conceived Daeran with someone else and returned home and got quick married to an old friend to legitimize him. But I still love it because I do what I want lol

Snippet under the cut!

"I'm pregnant," she said flatly, the words silencing her father's bluster. His face turned the color of puce, and then bone-white. "How--who--" "I have no idea," she cut through his spluttering. She is lying, of course--the man's name had been Kael, he of the sharp tongue and foxlike smile. They had spent months together when he had come to Mendev searching for opportunities to expand his business, free-fallen into the closest thing to love Silaena had ever experienced. When the diseased air of the Worldwound became too much, he had packed his things to go back southeast and offered to take Silaena with him. She'd refused; Mendev was blighted land riddled with cults and demons and foul air, but it was her air, and her people, and her land. Even when she ran away she had never gone far, and had come to the realization that she never would when she closed the door on their relationship. He'd left before she'd found out the gift he'd left her, and now he will never know, so she does not wonder how he'd react if he found out. What mattered was here, the present, and how she planned to take care of the growing life inside of her. "Nevis and I have already agreed that this will be a chaste marriage; my child will be claimed as his, and since the marriage will be legal before the child draws breath it will be legal heir. You give me the title and the estate, and you can keep all the other homes and riches and make everyone miserable in Nerosyan if you like, and you never speak to me again--and I will take the responsibilities of Countess Arendae, and pass them to my son."

#cassy answers #herequeerexitentialfear #silaena arendae #i nearly put oc: silaena because i have in fact adopted her. owlcat give her over #cassy writes #cassy wips #pwotr pals

[undyingembers]

Phantom of the Opera - Lenarius/Daeran AU?

Ask me about my AU's!

Ooh, this is a fun one! Where to start.

In this universe, magic exists, but it is way, way toned down compared to the Pathfinder universe. There are people who can use magic, but they are very rare (iirc, Len and Galfrey are the only named characters who ever use magic). You still have the standard fantasy races, but they are not very common.

Len is still a tiefling. In this universe, instead of horns and a tail, tieflings are born with horrible deformities that others see as a mark of fiendish ancestry. Tieflings are horrifically discriminated against. In fact, up until the story takes place, it was perfectly legal to clear out places where tieflings live and kill them on sight. Len got it particularly bad bc now his face is all fucked up (thus he gets to be the “Phantom” whohoo!).

When Len was a child, his parents kept him locked away. However, the kid showed himself to be an absolute genius, particularly when it came to music. One day, while his family was hosting a gala, he thought he would be able to overcome the prejudice and make something of himself with his singing. So, he donned a veil and sang for everyone at the gala. At first, all the guests were completely enchanted by this child prodigy. However, he was soon discovered and all the horrified nobles ran him out with the intent to kill him.

He was only saved by Woljif, who just happened to be out that night. Woljif is also a tiefling, but unlike Len, his deformity is in a spot that can easily be hidden under his clothes. He hides Len in the secret passages of a prestigious boarding school. However, when Len asks for more help, Woljif rebukes him, repeating the words his own grandmother said to him: “if you don’t work, you don’t eat”.

Meanwhile, Daeran Arendae, the son of the world-famous opera legend Silaena Arendae is left an orphan when his mother dies from an uncurable disease. His closest of kin is Galfrey. I haven’t really decided what (if any) noble titles she has, but she is not the queen. Unfortunately, Galfrey is often busy fighting in the Crusades, so she completely neglects the boy and sends him off to a boarding school.

Daeran’s time in the boarding school is a complete nightmare. He was bullied horrendously and was given no comfort while he was grieving for his mother. The neglect caused him to lash out, which in turn earned the ire of the teachers and staff. He hated everything and everyone there.

The only saving grace is an “angel” who would visit him in secret and teach him how to sing. Lenarius had been squatting in the secret areas of the boarding school until one day he was drawn in to the school’s chapel by Daeran’s singing. He followed that voice until he saw that other kid sitting by himself. After Daeran had been done with his song, Daeran started crying for his dead mother and let it slip that his mother had promised to send down an angel. Feeling sorry for the boy, Lenarius presented himself as the angel Silaena had sent down and kept him company throughout his school years (it should be noted that Lenarius pretending to be an angel is somewhat plausible; angels do exist in this universe; Daeran is still an aasimar and Galfrey works with angels all the time while crusading). In addition to that, Lenarius haunted the school as a sort of poltergeist and frightened Daeran’s bullies.

Eventually, Daeran and Len grow up so that they need to leave the boarding school. Daeran gets a job at the opera house as a chorus member, and Lenarius follows him there. Lenarius sets up a lair in the secret catacombs of the opera house and gets back in touch with Woljif. Since Woljif can “pass” as a human, the two of them set up a scheme where Lenarius would pose himself as a ghost haunting the opera and the two of them would run a con where they would extort money from the opera house. However, Lenarius also has a plan to progress Daeran’s career as an opera singer and has been putting that in motion.

From there, things play similarly as the play. The old opera owner sells the opera house to two new owners (Irabeth and Anevia). Woljif informs them of the “ghost” that lives in the opera and to pay him money, keep box five empty, blah, blah, blah. Galfrey comes back from the crusades and decides to patronize the opera house (much to Daeran’s annoyance). Lenarius causes an “accident” to happen to the lead male performer (Iacobin, my cavalier protag for the eventual WotR DLC), causing the guy to walk out in a panic (btw Sabine is the Prima Donna, however I don’t think it would quite work for the lead female to be replaced by a man, so Sabine is the “Piangi”). Daeran gets the lead role and is promptly adored by the crowd.

After the show, Galfrey (who has decided she wants to patch things up with Daeran) visits Daeran in his changing room with her bodyguard, Hulrun. At first Daeran rebukes her, but when she starts bringing up his childhood memories, he softens up to her a bit. As soon as she leaves, Lenarius comes to Daeran in the dressing room and takes him through the secret passages and into his lair. Because Lenarius is a genius, everything looks perfectly awesome and enchanting (and not gross and dank at all), and Daeran is completely taken in by all the artworks and contraptions Lenarius has built. Lenarius is working on a masterpiece, but he cannot quite finish, as he feels there is a piece missing.

After Daeran spends the night in Lenarius’s lair, he finds Lenarius asleep working on the opera. Curious as to what is under the veil, Daeran removes the veil, revealing a creature deformed, cursed, and worst of all, mortal. Lenarius is horrified that Daeran saw his face. At this point, Lenarius had fallen in love with Daeran and is now despairing over the fact that Daeran will never return his feelings now. Meanwhile, Daeran is pissed off that Lenarius lied about being an angel and demands to be taken back to the opera, which Lenarius agrees to do.

The next scene happens at a tavern. Hulrun is preaching how tieflings are evil and he laments how recent laws have made it illegal to purge them out of cities. Ember (who hangs out at the opera house and kind of knows Lenarius’s secret; she also sits with Lenarius in box five whenever he’s viewing an opera) is there and recognized Hulrun as the knight who burned her and her father at the stake. Horrified, Hulrun immediately rebukes and insults her. The scene pans away to Lenarius listening in on the whole conversation.

Again, the next events play out like they do in the show. As soon as Daeran returns to the opera house, a new play is in production. Lenarius sends Irabeth and Anevia threatening notes demanding that Daeran be cast as the lead male in that opera. They refuse and cast Iacobin instead. Meanwhile, they give box five to Galfrey instead of reserving it for “the opera ghost”. Lenarius sabotages the show, using his magical gifts (he has magic powers surrounding certain tricks he can do with his voice). Again, Iacobin (and everyone else) gets freaked out. Irabeth and Anevia almost give into Lenarius’s demands to cast Daeran in the lead, but Galfrey steps up and tells them that they will not obey the orders of a criminal and sends Hulrun backstage to find the saboteur. Because of what he had heard Hulrun say at the tavern, Lenarius kills him and drops him onto the stage. This causes everyone to freak out.

Galfrey goes to find Daeran to bring him to safety, and they both end up on the roof. Daeran tells her that the “opera ghost” is just a mortal man, but he has no idea what that man wants. Daeran is still angry at Len for lying to him, and now he finds out that Len killed someone, and basically his whole life has been upended. He and Galfrey manage to patch things up when she offers him comfort. Lenarius, who has been listening to the whole conversation, falls into despair as he thinks this means he has lost Daeran forever. However, before he parts ways with Daeran for good, he decides he wants to finish his masterpiece and have Daeran sing it one last time.

Six months pass, and no one hears from Lenarius. Even Woljif is starting to get antsy as he hasn’t had contact from his partner in crime in that time. At the masquerade ball, it is revealed that Lenarius has spent that time finishing his opera and appears to everyone demanding that his work be performed.

While rehearsal is going on, someone (either Galfrey or Anevia) find out that Woljif if Lenarius’s accomplice and interrogate him. Woljif tells them all the background info that he knows (Len being a tiefling, squatting at Daeran’s boarding school, the scheme they were pulling). Galfrey decides to use this as an opportunity to capture Lenarius. Daeran, however, has reservations about betraying the only friend he had growing up and runs off to the cemetery.

Lenarius catches up to Daeran at the cemetery, at Silaena’s grave. Lenarius begs Daeran to sing his masterpiece for him once last time. He promises Daeran that if Daeran does this for him, Lenarius will leave him alone forever. Daeran demands to know Lenarius’s name, which Lenarius gives. They have a little bit of bonding over old memories before Daeran warns him that the opera is a trap. Lenarius says he already knows. Galfrey rides in, causing Lenarius to flee the scene. As Galfrey checks to make sure Daeran is alright, Daeran angrily agrees to sing in the opera.

Come the night of the opera, Daeran and Sabine are cast as the leads. Before the climax of the opera, Lenarius incapacitates Sabine and takes her place in the grand duet she and Daeran were supposed to sing together. Lenarius dons a mask and crown and a magnificent dress as he and Daeran sing together for supposedly the last time. Like in the original play/book, Lenarius as the Phantom has a compelling/hypnotic voice. It is obvious that something had happened to Sabine, but everyone, including Galfrey’s guards are too captivated to do anything about it.

After their duet, Lenarius starts to sing an amazing solo. Daeran realized that once Lenarius is done singing, it will be over. The spell will be broken, and he will never see Lenarius again. Not wanting this to happen, Daeran rushes over and removes Lenarius’s mask in the middle of the song. The audience screams in terror at this hideous monster. Lenarius is absolutely mortified. He manages to cast a mass confusion spell on the audience before making a getaway. Daeran runs after him.

As Galfrey can’t rally her men, she grabs Woljif, who she had kept restrained, and demands that he take her to where Lenarius took Daeran. Woljif agrees and leads her down the catacombs. However, he betrays Galfrey and instead leads her into one of the death traps Lenarius had built.

Meanwhile, Daeran follows Lenarius back to his lair. Lenarius is hurt and furious (and also suffering mild PTSD flashbacks from his parents’ gala) that Daeran would ruin his grand moment. He says some really hurtful things to Daeran and demands Daeran leave him alone. At first his words seem to drive Daeran away, but Daeran realized that Lenarius is just lashing out and he goes back to comfort him. Daeran tells him that he didn’t mean to hurt Lenarius. He only did what he did because he didn’t want to lose Lenarius forever. He also tells Lenarius that he wishes things could go back to the way things were before that fateful audition where Lenarius was just the friend who comforted him when he was lonely and grieving.

They almost kiss, but Galfrey (who escaped the death trap) runs in, sword drawn. She demands Lenarius let go of Daeran. Daeran tries to get her to back down, but Galfrey will have none of it. She draws strength from Iomadae and starts attacking Lenarius. Lenarius tries to use his magic on her, but she is protected by her goddess. As she chases Lenarius around the lair, she starts destroying all of Lenarius’s beautiful artworks. All the while, Daeran begs her to stop, but he can only watch in horror as all the wonderful masterpieces get destroyed.

Just as Galfrey is about to land a blow on Lenarius, Woljif sneaks in and does a sneak attack on her. This gravely injures Galfrey, and she falls, incapacitated.

Woljif, who had been scouting the area before coming down here, tells Lenarius that the guards are surrounding the opera house and that they need to get out of there fast. Daeran wants to go with them, but Galfrey is so severely wounded that she might actually die if they leave her there. Daeran decides to get her to a healer, even if it means that he and Len must part ways. The two of them kiss before Lenarius and Woljif head off into the night.

The story ends with Ember wandering into the lair and finding the passage Len and Woljif used to escape. She uses that passage to follow them. (There is a sequel. I am ashamed to say that I also did Love Never Dies, but I’d like to think that my version is slightly less stupid).

So yeah, Len is a more sympathetic phantom (he doesn’t kill Sabine). It was completely self-indulgent on my end, but I enjoyed this one a lot.

#forestdragoncat #thanks for the ask! #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #commander lenarius #lenarius #lenariusxdaeran #my writing

[cassynite]

So here is the first chapter of a fic I've been working on for a while, which is meant to be a character study of Daeran, specifically his relationship to his mother.

I hope everyone who decides to read this enjoys it! And if any information appears to obviously contradict canon, let me know.

#daeran arendae #pathfinder wotr #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #pwotr #wotr #silaena arendae #i am now the proud fic author of the ONLY fic on ao3 that lists her as a character #for shame. y'all need to show more respect to your fridged moms #cassy writes #pwotr pals

[cassynite]

WIP Wednesday

Working on a bit of a longer piece right now to fill another prompt, but thought I'd share a bit of it. Have some Silaena Arendae 👀

And suddenly you are standing in a different wedding, watching over the union of the previous Count and Countess Arendae. Silaena had found you during the banquet after as well--far less surprising for her to be torn away from her new spouse, who was her father's age and an old friend of the Arendae main branch. They had smiled together, her holding his wizened hands, and she had held the crook of his elbow with easy familiarity, but no kiss was shared and when he drifted off to speak to the Dowager Count, you saw no grief or pain of abandonment.

You still remember that conversation, her voice clear in your head as a just-struck bell. She'd found you in the far corner, only a perfunctory guard acknowledging your presence as you took a few minutes of solitude away from the heavy showmanship that came with being the queen in public.

Silaena had noticed you, though. "Is her majesty hiding?" She sank onto the bench beside you with a smile. "I expected some kind of speech when I saw your honored presence among the guests. Perhaps a rousing call for recruitment to the effort to beat back those demons."

"I'm taking the day off," you chuckled. "Wedding attendants are hardly going to want to take up their swords."

"Quite right, of course, silly me. Your speech would obviously be a rousing call for donations to beat back those demons instead."

You had to cough to keep your laughter down; you didn't want to be too loud and attract unwanted attention. "I'll leave that for another day." You paused, and stared at her, the roses twined in her hair, the flash of her storm-gray eyes. She looked the perfect portrait of a happy bride, but you'd known her long enough to recognize that a portrait was sometimes just paint. "And what about you? Planning on dancing your shoes to ribbons? Or just bask in the joy of your nuptials and new title?"

"Oh bask, definitely. You can only dance for so long before you grow bored of it, and noble dances are rather stiff, aren't they? I'm going to spend the night letting everyone come to me and pretend they're happy that I got all the reward and none of the punishment for my errant behaviors, and plan out exactly what I'm going to do with my new home once I'm free of them all."

"You have a good plan, then?" Heaven's Edge, the seat of the Arendae family, was going to Silaena as the new matriarch of the clan. Her father had already openly moved into one of the Arendae estates at the capital, ostensibly to focus on Council duties.

"It will be wonderful," Silaena said. Her cheer was bright and far too even to be natural. "I will have the whole estate, and Nevis--Count Arendae--oh, you know him, what am I saying, Nevis--he says that he wants to start some kind of club to play chess and won't that be exciting, I plan to wipe the floor with them all. And, of course, my father is never going to step foot in Heaven's Edge again, and honestly I'll take a trip to the gulag for that."

"Silaena," you chided. She'd been far more circumspect since she returned home, so the blunt candor is almost surprising. Almost. You still remembered her during her first years out of university, a silver-glinting flit of bubbling laughter and sharp snubs, taking ten years off the life of every Royal Council member and twice as many for the two members she hated the most. When the previous Countess Arendae passed of heart palpitations, there were plenty of cruel remarks of how she had been driven into an early grave by his wayward, unfilial daughter. Plenty of them were made by the Dowager Count himself.

"What? No one's around. You know just as well as I do how he is, how they both were. Honestly, I'm only sorry Nerosyan is going to have to endure his presence year-round now. I already told him he's never meeting my child--any child I might have, and Nevis has agreed with me because he's a wonderful friend, and they can't say anything about it now." She sighs, leaning back. "I'm free as I'll ever be."

Your chest warmed, seeing the smile on her face grow genuine. As far as your extensive line of distant relatives go, she had been your favorite by far; cleverer than most of the court gave her credit for, bright in a way that went beyond the silver glow emanating from her pale blonde hair. When she laughed, the room laughed. Talking to her for more than a few minutes has always given you the sensation of putting down a heavy load after so long carrying it you no longer noticed its weight. You are glad she's back in court.

Perhaps it was that warmth that loosened your tongue. Or, the knowledge that Silaena Arendae would never, ever betray you, not after those long talks in the gardens you used to have, not after she had told you of her plans to run away, and you had kept it to yourself. "Why did you come back?" you ask. "You could have been actually free of all this." She gestures to the party.

"You sound envious," Silaena noted. "Would true freedom be something you want?"

"No," you said, instead of the truth, which was that you couldn't even imagine that future for yourself. "But you did. And you came back anyway. Why?"

"Oh, you know." She gave an artful shrug. "Can't run away from your name forever. I tried. But someone has to be Countess Arendae."

#cassy writes #cassy wips #listen. if canon won't make its own character then store bought is fine #anyway having a lot of fun with this particular piece #and usual caveat that concrit is welcome on wips for me

[cassynite]

3. The best character you've written for

I have to fudge this one because what I love best about your writing is your insight into character and you’ve written so many so well, but there’s a special place in my heart for your Silaena Arendae. You really breathe life into a ghost that haunts Daeran’s narrative!

9. A fic i'm excited for you updating/posting

To the Roots of Something Greener - Daeran & Sparrow living happily ever after but still having to cope with the ghosts of the past and challenges of the future… I dearly love this one and I hope there will be more sometime.

(I'm so sorry it took so long to respond to this, I have in fact been hoarding these like a little rat that got their hands on delicious cheese)

But Dujour. Screaming crying at this that you like my characterization best...that you like Silaena so much....all I ever wanted was to drag her out of the fridge and to hear that she resonates is just such a gift...

And I'm so glad you like my little postcanon daerrow snippets!! I honestly find their postcanon more interesting than their canon in a lot of ways lol, canon is where they fall in love but postcanon is where they make it last. I obviously do have a lot of thoughts about more postcanon stories, adn while some will be longer form and not put directly in roots because of it I definitely will be telling more of their stories!

#cassy answers #dujour13 #thank u so much <3

[cassynite]

I was tagged by @turbulentpumpkin43 for this meme, thank you so much!

Share your wallpaper:

Original art can be found here...really ought to change this one tbh

The last song you listened to: Already Gone by the Wild Rivers

Currently reading: Waffling between books right now...I've started Sorcery of Thorns by Margeret Rogerson, A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske, and in nonfiction I'm picking at The Doctor Who Fooled the World by Brian Deer.

Last Movie: God I don't even remember...I think it must have been Glass Onion.

Craving: I was craving sweets but I got a Shamrock Shake and am now craving nothing :)

What are you wearing right now? Sweatpants and a t-shirt

How tall are you: 5'6"

Piercings: Earlobes and nostril

Tattoos: None. Scared of needles :(

Glasses? Contacts? Glasses!

Last drink: Aforementioned Shamrock Shake; if that doesn't count, then Belle Vie grapefruit sparklilng water

Last show: Uuuuuuh the first five episodes of Midnight Mass, maybe? Idk it's been a minute since I watched a show

Last thing you ate: The fries I got with my shamrock shake

Favorite color: Royal blue

Current obsession: Wrath of the Righteous! Specifically, Daeran Arendae in Wrath of the Righteous. And Silaena Arendae, fridged queen of my heart

Unrelated obsession: I'm mostly out of my Stranger Things Steddie hole, but every now and then my heart returns to it

Any pets: My cat, Nefurtiti! She's cuddling with me right now :3

Do you have a crush on anyone? I guess if you count my partner lol.

Favorite fictional character: Daeran Arendae! Genuinely have never been so obsessed with a character in my life

The last place you traveled: I went to central PA in January to see family...very harrowing experience, that

This was fun! No pressure tagging @spyridonya, @dragonflytehanu, @dujour13, and @angrygoatwoman and anyone else who's interested!

Blank template beneath the cut!

Share your wallpaper:

The last song you listened to:

Currently reading:

Last Movie:

Craving:

What are you wearing right now?

How tall are you:

Piercings:

Tattoos:

Glasses? Contacts?

Last drink:

Last show:

Last thing you ate:

Favorite color:

Current obsession:

Unrelated obsession:

Any pets:

Do you have a crush on anyone?

Favorite fictional character:

The last place you traveled:

#cassy bitches #ask meme

[cassynite]

⛺️ and 📜 please!

Oh thank you so much for asking!!

⛺️: what’s your favourite camp banter?

I'm going to be pretty boring--almost all of the Daeran banters rank among my faves. These are some standouts:

I just really love how Daeran and Lann become friends.

Any mention of Silaena Arendae and Daeran's feelings about her make me go nuts.

I always kick my feet a little when I get Daeran romance banters. Arueshalae's banters about his romance are my favorites to find!

📜: do you enjoy council meetings? why/why not?

I do! I feel like the council meetings are one of the few ways the game mechanics show how your status as Knight Commander actually fully affects the Crusade (Crusade mode felt weirdly impersonal to me and disconnected from the main gameplay).

I think there's good narrative friction in the different councils that were cool for RP purposes even if they didn't fully mesh with the story itself (like the supply lines sucking and the Crusade lacking resources was really cool, even if I never felt like we were missing supplies outside of Logistics Council meetings and a few conversations with Wilcer Garms)). I like how each one has its own major issue you're combating and your decisions can really show a lot of characterization for your KC.

And, of course, the companion banter in the council meetings are some of the best. Seeing your companions bounce off of each other and the advisor is really fun. I always looked forward to council meeting cutscenes :D

#dmagedgoods #cassy answers #thank you again for asking!!

[cassynite]

Greetings! A spell from the depths of the internet.

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. Learn to know your mutuals and followers.

Aaaah thank you!! Five more things that make me happy :)

Silaena Arendae, fridged mom of my heart. It's embarrassing how often I just quietly think about her.

Moving away from fandom stuff--bodies of water! There's just something about being near a large lake that magically cures my mental illness.

My cat, Nefurtiti. I love my baby very much and is the best part of coming home after work :)

I recently started watching Dimension20 DnD plays and they are. Very funny. I've really been enjoying going through their first season!

My IRL best friend and writing partner! He's the guy that makes sure my stuff makes sense before I post it...if anything ends up significantly Bad it's because he couldn't beta beforehand lol. Talking to him is always just one of my favorite things :)

#cassy answers #outeremissary #thank you again!

[dmagedgoods]

Along the path - Ambiguous Impressions

Male Commander/Daeran AO3 ~~~ Arendae Party House, Kenabres, Arodus 19, 4715 There was little he despised as much as those in power who failed to fulfill the duty connected to their status and influence, abused their position to rule with neither skill nor competence or even developed into a danger for those under their unworthy command. Count Daeran Arendae, however, seemed to be little more than a spoiled, pesky child, undeserving of his name, but uninterested in actively participating in Mendev’s politics and leadership, merely providing a scandal every once in a while. Despite standing in direct line for the throne, he showed no intention to raise above his role as rake and nuisance and maybe his pathetic lack of ambition was actually speaking in his favor. He had read and heard about the Arendae family in extensive detail long before his arrival in Mendev, still everyone seemed eager to provide him with bits and pieces of their history, none of them able to fill the peculiar gaps in this odd and horrendous story that had started to grow and swell big enough to become part of Mendev’s Folklore. To his surprise, they were greeted by vivid music when they finally reached the mansion and stepped through an inconspicuous passage at the back of the house to escape the attention of the demons besieging it. Hadn’t the servant emphasized that the situation was urgent, the creatures already in the house and Arendae and his guests captured in the great hall, waiting for aid?

“Check the rooms to the right,” he ordered. He would create a safe escape route for the residents, staff and visitors to flee before the attackers found a way to break through. A small group of demons had made themselves comfortable in the pantry and were dead before they got the chance to alarm their allies. Now the passage seemed free of dangers. Time to … He stopped in his thought when he spotted the thief he had freed from the cell at Defender’s Heart, stuffing his bags with everything small enough to fit – food, herbs, bottles … “Woljif, cease this at once.” The sharp rebuke caused the tiefling to pull his head out of the chest he was rummaging this very moment. “But chief, this guy is ridiculously rich! And we need it more than him.” He wouldn’t sink so low as to steal – from other nobles no less – just because he had no access to his own fortune in his current situation. His face heated up at the thought alone. “Put it back.” “Really?” Woljif sighed. “Yeah, alright chief, understood.” He turned around to leave the pantry behind. From the corner of his eye, he noticed how the tiefling quietly slid his loot into his bag anyway. He needed to talk to him as soon as they would have completed their mission. For now, there was no time to discuss the issue further. He headed for the great hall the servant had mentioned and opened the high doors by breaking the seal. It gave in with surprising ease and more and more he felt like someone was playing a prank on him. The banquet hadn’t been interrupted, musicians were playing in cheerful merriment, their song filled the large flamboyant room, encouraging half-naked dancers to move in seductive grace on tables filled with an abundance of exquisite dishes. No one seemed afraid or even vaguely concerned, the guests chatted and laughed, flirted and joked without a care – or clear thought – in the world. And there, close to the door they had just passed, at the end of the long table, sat the host of this morbid festivity, his golden hair and otherworldly radiance giving him away at first view, even among all those people. Count Arendae was an Aasimar, like his mother had been, Countess Silaena Arendae, only failing to show any hint of the amiable virtuousness people tended to attribute to those with celestial blood in their ancestral line. “What a splendid occasion, Count!” one of the guests shouted, “And this new Numerian elixir is quite something!” Apparently, tiger had escaped Ember’s arms and the orange cat ran promptly and straight ahead to Arendae’s side. The Count reached for the little animal in a lazy gesture to pet it for a short moment without even looking around from where it had come. Granted, he didn’t get much of a chance. Out of a sudden a bang echoed through the hall and the double door of the main entrance swung open, hit by a heavy attack. Salvadore drew his sword. “Oh look, such darling little creatures,” one of the nobles stated at the abyssal abominations flooding into the room. Salvadore wondered what kind of intoxicant Arendae distributed among his guests. “I must be well and truly sozzled …,” another remarked. “I’m seeing freaks with horns bah-ha!” The one who had spoken first was ripped to bloody shreds by one of the darling little creatures before he had the chance to rush towards them. It was then, when the screaming started. “I s-smell … beauty …,” a bulky Abrikandilu grunted. Chaos broke lose. “They’re – they’re demons!” a dancer yelled in all her perspicacity. “Help!” Damn. He had to enforce some kind of order through the welling panic to evacuate them while he’d keep the demons from following and kill them in a swift, fast maneuver with Seelah’s, Wenduag’s and, from a safe distance, Ember’s help. – And maybe the thief’s, in case he wasn’t running. A command to prompt the incompetent host of this disaster to move towards the door, before he’d get himself killed next, never left his lips. The count raised from his chair without any haste, appearing surprisingly calm and composed in stepping towards the invading demons. His right hand and the floor around him started to glow in golden lines of magic patterns, reflected in his shining hair, when he raised the energy for a spell. “Wonderful, now brace yourself for the smell of your own blood, you ghastly eyesore.” The Abrikandilu was torn apart by the power that hit him and only left stains of dark blood on the thick carpet. Salvadore frowned. This had been … impressive. He forced himself to focus on the battle. Apparently, the demons hadn’t expected to meet resistance. He tried to keep them away from the civilians, while slaying them in precise, clean motions. Another fell by Seela’s blade. Woljif rammed his daggers into the back of a Schir. It was a matter of minutes till the last of them died with a gurgling sound under their counter attack. With a sigh he cleaned his sword on the shreds one of the creatures was wearing, then he turned around to check for injuries among the people. Maybe Ember could speak some healing spells. Fortunately, it seemed most of the guests, servants and artists were under shock, but widely unscathed. Salvadore’s gaze found Arendae, who had participated in the battle without a second thought and in skillful, elegant efficiency. Apparently, there was a little more to him than he had assumed. He stepped closer, curious, this much he had to admit. “Greetings, valiant stranger who has just burst into my life. I am the master of this house, Count Daeran Kael ‘Myriad-Mellifluous-Monikers’ Arendae.” Salvadore raised a brow, not entirely sure if the count was making fun of him or of himself. A gleam of amusement shimmered in the luminescence of those bright green eyes. Arendae was outrageously attractive, his angelic features even more appealing than those of his fellow Aasimar due to the mischievous flair surrounding them. It was a dangerous combination, dangerous and rare. His warm, smooth bronze-skin seemed coated by the fairest hint of gold, resonating in the color of his hair, laid back in perfect curls. He noticed his pointed ears. Azata blood. – Fitting, and maybe even an explanation for a thing or two. “No need to introduce yourself – I find remembering insignificant details such as the names of passing acquaintances such a bore.” He spoke with lofty eloquence, voice high and clear, but playful in it, with a youthful, roguish charm, despite the condescending words. Something in his way of talking captured his interest enough to refrain from a rebuke and from calling attention to his own title, instead, he held back, observing. “Now that we’re finished with the niceties, tell me this … How did all those thrice-damned demons end up at my soirée?” Even for the most indifferent rake in town this question seemed bizarre. Now it was for him to show some condescendence. “It must have been some party, to miss the fact that Kenabres was being attacked by hordes of Demons and Deskari himself.” “Oh come, the party was deathly dull, rather like one of the Prelate’s interminable sermons. I really ought to be grateful to the demons for their intrusion – they certainly added a frisson to the proceedings.” Arendae’s eyes wandered to the window. Between the curtains a flickering minacious shine told of the fires ravaging the city. The counts attention moved back to him and he continued in the same unbothered demeanor: “… It seems as though Deskari’s occasion was altogether more of a crush than mine, if you pardon the pun.” “I experienced this crush at point-blank range,” he commented drily, “A mediocre pleasure at best as well.” He noticed a surprised flicker of merriment in Arendae’s gaze. “You don’t seem very concerned about the cities fate.” It was more of an observation than a question, still he wanted to hear his answer. After all, celebrations were harder to hold between debris and ashes. “I have no friends here whose untimely demise I would care to mourn. The only alarming thing is how easily all this happened. I don’t care for the thought that demons could come calling at my door at any moment. And just think, everyone had so much faith in the Wardstones gifted by Iomedae’s herald, and in the might of our tamed dragon. As if there had been no Drezen or a dozen other routs where the demons overcame every defense …” Suddenly, he appeared tired. He rubbed his brow in an exhausted gesture. So, the dear count was a cynic. – Clearly by no means an inappropriate stance, given the disastrous course of events during the recent days and the whole debacle of the last two crusades before. “What should I know about you, Count?” he asked slowly, eying him in all intensity. “Aside from the fact that you’re high-born and very rich?” Both attributes tended to tell fairly little about a person. He himself combined them as well or would do so again, as soon as he’d get the chance to work out his approach to reclaim what was rightfully his. “As a child, I had my very own pony,” Arendae answered in an unexpected way. “But I always dreamed of having a lamb. I was never allowed one – sheep were seen as peasant animals, utterly unsuitable for the scion of a noble line. The trauma haunts me to this day.” Salvadore returned to raising his brow. “I think of it every time I have roast lamb for dinner.” “I’m sorry that happened to you,” Ember suddenly threw in, sounding genuinely compassionate. “Such a sad story.” Salvadore felt his features soften. Cynicism dripped off from her like water from colored glass, drawing patterns and prisms of light instead. The Count seemed to realize it immediately as well. And, to his astonishment, reacted neither irritated nor in the mocking demeanor he had shown before: “I had not even the slightest intention of upsetting such a lovely child.” “I’m not lovely.” Ember seemed unburdened in turning the compliment down. “Some people have even called me a scarecrow before.” “That’s patently absurd!” Arendae proclaimed, “Why, you can’t possibly be a scarecrow with a crow following you around.” A little smile played across Salvadore’s lips. Now this had been positively adorable. Of course, the Count returned to his former attitude swiftly and Salvadore had to admit – slightly against his will –, that he found it quite endearing as well. “I’m sorry if I failed to state your curiosity. I loathe talking about myself to people I don’t know, even more to those I do know. The only thing worth knowing – aside from the fact that I am high-born and filthy rich – is that I dislike puritans and demons in equal measure. Well, perhaps demons a tad more.” “A reason more for me to expect a little gratitude for saving you.” “Of course, of course, where are my manners …” He inspected his hand, removed a ring with a large gemstone and tossed it to him. “There.” Salvadore reacted in an impulse and caught it from the air, feeling a rush of annoyance in the very same heartbeat. Neither had his comment been a request for paiment nor suggested that he’d accept such a highly degrading gesture. “You can also poke about the house and claim whatever takes your fancy. Though I imagine some of you already had that in mind.” Salvadore flinched internally. The thief! He had forgotten to have an eye on him. “I’m feeling very attacked right now,” Woljif complained. The pockets of his trousers and jacket were so full of trinkets by now that his loot drew a visible outline underneath his clothes. Salvadore raised his right hand to his forehead for a moment, closing his eyes and massaging in little circles. When he looked at Arendae again, he tried not to show his embarrassment. “I apologize for him. He isn’t used to my code of conduct. We barely just met.” Before the thief or the count got a chance to deepen the topic, he changed it: “You can go to the Defender’s Heart. It’s under the protection of Irabeth Tirabade and the Eagle Watch.” “I thank you for the invitation, but I am not quite as desperate as I may seem. At times, it is better to be surrounded by the repugnant mugs of demons than the sour and dour physiognomies of Iomedae’s righteous paladins.” He preferred to stay within the disgusting mess of those walls? – Celebrating between blood, innards and empty bottles till the next onslaught of demons would leave him with some teeth or claws in his handsome throat? Well, he had recognized and was willing to acknowledge that he was defensive and quite skilled with his spells, still he didn’t stand a chance alone with a handful of guards and servants and he didn’t like the thought of leaving him to die because of stubbornness, a dislike for paladins and flawed judgement. Seelah, who had been silent so far, raised her voice for the first time during the conversation, while using the broad side of her sword as mirror in jest. “What about my physiognomy? Sour enough for his lordship? Don’t worry, another few minutes with the dazzling count here and it will sour like week-old milk.” “What’s this?” Arendae sounded delighted again. “An attractive paladin with a sense of humor? You’re a veritable walking scandal.” Once more Salvadore wondered if the count was deliberately charming or on accident. “Either way, my mansion is now safe.” Salvadore frowned. Nothing in this city was even close to being safe, aside from Defender’s Heart, and even there the demons would attempt to attack rather sooner than later. “I have a pair of half-decent guards.” A pair? Against a demon horde? “I just need to drag them out of the storeroom and bring them to their senses … I ordered them to drink a love potion, you see, for reasons which seemed extremely witty at the time and in the state of inebriation I then found myself in.” For the sake of those guards, he hoped this prank didn’t get out of hand in the worst of possible ways. “They can guard the house while the valorous paladins beat back the demon assault. They will beat them back, yes?” Still, Salvadore would prefer to evacuate the whole mansion. If those guards where half-decent, as Arendae claimed, they would be more helpful searching for survivors or joining the resistance at Defender’s Heart as well. The count fell silent, before he added: “As regards myself, I feel like stretching my legs. I know rudimentary divine spells, I am no friend to demons, and I elevate any society that I deign to grace with my presence.” Salvadore was close to inform him that a walk through the city was an even worse idea than staying where he was, but Arendae’s next words caught him off guard: “I shall accompany you – only for a short time, of course, I have no desire to remain at the vanguard for a protracted period. What say you, my ephemeral but highly diverting acquaintance? After all, Lord Deskari spoiled my party. I now burn with the desire to spoil his.” He reacted with a little snort. “Your confidence is refreshing, Count.” And this idea far better than wandering the city alone or staying in this mansion. “Well. Thoughts?” The last question was aimed at the group. Their opinions wouldn’t influence his decision – this one already stood –, he still was interested in their arguments for or against Arendae’s company. “I don’t like this guy much at all. Not even because of his personality, but just … I sense something … dark about him,” Seelah said. Something dark? Beyond his morbid humor and indifference? Before he got a chance to ask, Wenduag stated her thoughts: “He’s handsome,” she purred, licking her lips and eying the count like her next meal. “Having a spellcaster in the party is always useful, too. If he’s strong, he’ll make a good ally. If he’s weak, he will die instead of us.” It was her usual logic with the usual flaws, starting with the small fact that they wouldn't leave anyone behind. “He has all these friends at this party, and still he looks so lonely,” Ember stated. “We can take him with us. Maybe it will make him feel better?” Her words caused him to gaze at Arendae again. The child seemed to have uttered an excellent take. This man was looking for distractions, not fulfilled by his own debauchery. – Maybe indeed a tad lonely in it? Salvadore looked to Woljif, the only one who hadn’t contributed his opinion yet. “Don’t ask me.” The thief didn’t seem happy at the prospect of taking Arendae with them. “Having him tag along would be like going for a nighttime stroll through the back-alleys with a diamond tiara on your head. Even I don’t like that kind of attention.” Well, the count sure was … hard to overlook. But the same could be said about himself. In self-assured calmness, he turned back to Arendae. Daeran. This promised to be interesting. “Deal,” he agreed in all simplicity. “Capital. Good acquaintances that begin and end at just the right moment often leave the most pleasant memories, wouldn’t you say?” Salvadore wondered why he repeated himself in emphasizing the ephemerality of this collaboration. He didn’t plan to hold him captive. The count was free to go whenever, although he preferred to have him under his direct guard until the city truly would be safe – a decision caused by his very own unreason in his reluctance to wait at Defender’s Heart like the rest of the city’s survivors. “I’m not sure I agree, but you can ready yourself for departure. I still have some questions for one of your guests.” He left the count with the others and moved his gaze through the room, searching for Aranka. His fingers played with the ring Daeran had given him. The thought still was accompanied by discontented irritation and a flicker of embarrassment. His first impulse was to put it down on one of the tables and leave it behind. He noticed the elegant letters, skillfully engraved in the exquisite gold, Daeran’s initials, D and A. Fine scratches and chips covered the metal and spoke of carelessness and the activities the small trinket had witnessed. It was in worse state than any of his own rings would ever achieve. He only knew him for less than half an hour, but this short time frame had been enough to tell that this ring was his in such a distinctive, characteristic way, that it caused him to smile in secret amusement. The smile still played across his lips when he moved towards the stage to the right and the musicians gathered there, slipping the ring into his pocket.

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