Owlcatober 30. Max Level
Part 2 of Blue Skies Over Mendev (part 1 here / also on AO3)
CW Major spoilers for the secret ending of PWOTR
Victorious dawn bathed the ridge in fresh, rosy light. A riot of laughing, weeping, dancing and singing crusaders churned around the island of calm that was their Queen. Wherever did they manage to get this much alcohol, she wondered, and then recalled with a sigh that the Knight-Commander had never prohibited it. Someone’s pauldron crashed against hers. She staggered, but somehow couldn’t summon up the regal scowl such a faux pas deserved.
Neither could she quite summon up joyful abandon. No one offered her a flask anyway.
As she watched in quiet, weary awe, the clouds overhead scattered and twinkling morning stars peeked from between their shreds, while underfoot tiny seedlings surged out of the once-sterile ground and a hum like bees rose on the wind. A light perfume of jasmine filled the air.
“My Queen—”
She turned, the stern refusal dying on her lips—it was not an offer to partake.
“My Queen, look!” An aide-de-camp directed her wondering eyes to the sky over Threshold.
From the deep blue western sky a tremendous, glowing object floated down over the ruins of the prison, dancing lights like fireworks flickering across its cliff-like flanks.
As they watched, the magically flying island settled atop Threshold and crushed the ancient prison to dust, not with a roar but a sigh as its oppressed souls were at long last released by the power of Elysium.
The earthquake that followed toppled the victory-drunk crusaders as well as most of what remained standing of the crusade camp after the detonation of the Worldwound. From the sound of laughter she guessed no one was injured.
Waiting out the last of the aftershocks on her haunches she scanned the crusade camp for her chapel tent, longing for a moment to herself. Galfrey felt light as air, and it hurt. It hurt the way pain only flared in a crushed limb when the weight was lifted from it.
She needed to set her shoulders for what came next: more work, but the rebuilding, healing sort of work she wasn’t sure she knew how to do.
She just needed a few moments to sort her thoughts and choose the right words for her people, but this was denied her, because not a dozen paces away on the ridge a blinding light suddenly shone like a star had fallen to earth. A warm breeze teased loose a strand of hair on her forehead.
Seeing crusaders drop to their knees around her, she, Galfrey of Mendev, rose to her feet.
There they were, the Knight-Commander at their head: the band of unlikely heroes, surrounded by opal-gold rays of sunlight and Elysian butterflies.
She shielded her eyes. They were radiant. More than radiant: they were transformed, godlike.
Siavash’s smile was no longer just charming, but devastating; the tiefling at his side like a midnight lightning storm.
The paladin shone like the dawn, her grin of triumph radiating reassurance and camaraderie; the young priest and his brother clad in rainbow hues and flowers, one scarred, the other fresh-faced, healing light pouring from their haloes; the kitsune scholar’s all-knowing eyes piercing the mysteries of existence; the Hellknight, still dark and glowering, an anchor of order among the chaos; the mongrel chieftain elevated all the way from his caverns to the light of Heaven, just as the succubus had transformed from a blind and greedy larva into a miraculous azata; and the elf waif and her crow shining with benevolence beyond mortal comprehension.
And Daeran—the cousin she’d despaired of—wreathed in divine light and a scent of otherworldly roses, his natural beauty so magnified it hurt her eyes.
Power poured out of them like the warmth of the sun.
Not godlike.
Gods.
Whatever had transpired at Threshold, they had not only prevailed over the Architect of the Worldwound but they had ascended.
A bolt passed through her core.
To witness such a miracle—as great as the Inheritor Herself striding triumphant from the Starstone to take up Aroden’s torch!
The Knight-Commander moved toward her. Terrible power prickled her eyes and vibrated in her sternum. Her hair stood on end. She felt on the verge of shattering, like her soul was a crystal goblet resonating with an unbearable harmonic, and it seemed to her no mortal could stand in the face of this power and live. Fear gripped her heart.
In Iz he had forgiven her for the unforgiveable. At the time he seemed sincere, but was this the moment of reckoning, the time for her sins and failures to be weighed in the divine balance?
No matter. She was ready.
This would indeed be the perfect moment for death to send her weary soul to the River. Her work here was done and she could finally, finally rest.
She deserved no better. She’d failed—not only crusade after doomed crusade, but when Elysium sent her a savior she failed to put her trust in him, let petty jealousy and hurt drive her to an act of spite, an unpardonable betrayal, worse yet because they’d been friends.
At least in a manner of speaking. As far as Queen Galfrey could be said to have friends. They’d made each other laugh a couple of times—did that count?
Not enough to save him from her resentment. Not enough to save him the labor of recovering the Fifth Crusade after her disastrous bid to march on Iz.
She bowed her head.
Merciful Inheritor, I did what I could. Could You have asked more of any mortal?
Now let me sleep.
Please.
She closed her eyes, preparing for divine judgment to strike her down. Grateful for it, even. He could snuff her out like a burnt-down candle, and at last she could lay down her sword.
Instead, she felt his arms wrap joyfully around her.
This should never have been yours to carry alone for so long.
Warmth, healing, forgiveness—the blessing of Elysium. And most of all, the most sublime soaring sensation of a crushing weight lifted from her soul. It had been so long since Galfrey let herself weep she wondered whether she’d forgotten how, dried up and faded like a pressed flower. She had not forgotten.
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So, I'm on my third attempt at Azata, hopefully third time's the charm. I'm still trying to develop the newest as a character, but I feel like rambling about them. (picrew here)
Amie Verdier, NG tiefling Hunter from the River Kingdoms, follower of Desna. Romancing Lann. Amie was my second character ever, actually, after Lorraine. She was first a Ranger before I realized I basically just recreated Arueshalae so she got respec-ed to Nature Shaman and then Hunter. She has an elk named Clover. The idea for her game was to get as many companions animal companions as possible and then share out my Teamwork Feats with Life Bonding Friendship. But I've restarted her game like, four times? Eventually I admitted she just wasn't catching my interest.
Angelina Ylvaris, CN->CG half-elf Bard from Mendev, follower of Calistria. Romancing Daeran. Angelina was my depression game, where I was starting to want to play video games again but I wasn't able to interact with mechanics so I just went through the game exploding all the enemies with Toybox. She got up to the end of Act III, but I've kind of lost interest in her game because it doesn't have any mechanical depth and it reminds me of when I was in a bad place.
Delilah Fujimori, N kitsune Sorcerer (Nine Tailed Heir), fey bloodline, from ???, follower of Shelyn. Romancing Lann or Woljif. My newest addition, who is mechanics first and I'm figuring out her backstory as I go along. She's an Enchantment focused Sorc, and has a DC 20 Will Save for the cantrip Daze. Will eventually be adding Favorable Magic, Zippy Magic, and Best Jokes in here. It's been real fun early game, but I suspect it'll fall off late game (I can't see CC-ing Deskari, for example).
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