#packmaster
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Clan Moulder Packmaster
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A black project managed by fringe House of Sulfur mech architects that have tried to pair a proprietary drone shocktrooper/interceptor with a sophisticated "Packmaster" human pilot for maximum battlefield flexibility and linebreaking.
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WARHAMMER: End Times — Vermintide
↪ LOREBOOK → INDEX → SKAVEN → BESTIARY → PACKMASTER
#vermintide#lorebook pages#skaven#skaven lore#bestiary#packmaster#haven't seen a crop this good since the potato famine
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Damn those lizards do be leaping
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Quick scribble regarding that I only just found out by a goofem that the pendant 'Token of the Packmaster' makes wolves not attack you.
I stuck it on Solas as a joke and tried to fight some wolves and they weren't attacking and I had to Google why LOL
#token of the packmaster#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#solas#lavellan#solavellan#dragon age comics#dragon age art#solas dragon age art#Blackwall#sera#wolves#wolf#wip#eli draws a thing
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oKAY, this is just getting ridiculous now...
#I'm just trying to complete quests with my hedge mage boyfriend#will these wolves just chill#one broke it's leg to get closer#token of the packmaster#it's a great item to wear#but jesus these wolves hound my inky like a bitch in heat i swear#smh#lavellan#gameplay#inquisitor lavellan#dalish#dalish elves#dragon age wolves#wolves#dragon age#dai#dragon age inquisition#yes i play fully cocked with mods
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seven paragraph sunday. 💗
pairing: Alcide Herveaux x Jackie (black fem oc)
word count: 518
warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut because...helloooo, looook at him.
Thanks for the tag @jeysbvck! I changed the rules a wee bit. Lol.
As he stomped downstairs from using Jackie's bathroom and checking on Sookie, her eyes widened to see Alcide was shirtless—an obvious ploy to make her look at what she'd been missing out on since she broke up with him last month. Jackie rolled her eyes as he plopped down on the couch next to her and shot her a smirk, his deep voice gruff with a Southern accent as he bellowed, "What? It's hot in here."
She would have offered him an iced tea to cool off on this humid summer night, but instead she chided him for being stupid...although she couldn't take her eyes off his smooth, light brown skin and muscles. A fact that made Alcide taunt her more as he chuckled darkly and said, "You wanna talk shit but I heard you started fuckin' a fanger? That's stupid and dangerous. Psssh, betchu you ain't cum right in a while, then, huh?"
— excerpt from some Alcide drabble that's been hiding in my drafts. @wrestlingprincess80 told me to post it forever ago, but I'm hard-headed. 🥺
That stung a little because while the casual sex with the vampire gentleman Jackie met was actually lovely...it was nothing like Alcide. Warm...intense...orgasms that made her cling to him as he clung to her. She sucked her teeth, annoyed with his judgment...but her heart and pussy started to pound simply reminiscing. Alcide could smell her lust as it brewed in her blood and he snickered again, knowing he was right as she couldn't hide it from his heightened senses.
"I'm not the only one feelin' heated, asshole," Jackie murmured, feeling like she was suddenly sitting next to a furnace as Alcide's heat spiked the second he inhaled her pheromones that were heady and delicious in his nose. She knew it for a fact by the way his dark brown eyes flashed a shade of a gold in that same second.
"Yeah? Bet this asshole can still make you cum so good you'll be runnin' to see me for more tomorrow," Alcide growled as he reclined on the couch with his arms spread across the back. "Too bad, though, 'cause I'll be busy with packmaster shit."
Jackie had to laugh because he was the one who showed up at her house tonight. It was under the guise of seeing Sookie, their mutual friend who rested upstairs in her bedroom with a fever, but she could see right through Alcide. She folded her arms over her chest and remarked, "Clearly, none of those wolf bitches got you whipped like me. Admit it. 'Cause I still don't see a ring on your finger."
"I'm 'whipped' but look how you noticed such a small detail 'bout li'l ol' me. I'm flattered," Alcide said as a wolfish grin spread on his lips. Jackie hurled a quiet "fuck you" at him as she couldn't stand his cockiness—and she knew he couldn't stand that she dumped his ass and dared to fuck a vamp. Yet when they were agitated like this, it always led to the same thing: Hot chaos. In no time, Alcide yanked her onto his lap, his tongue in her mouth and his thick dick in her as he held her soffe shorts to the side, cutting off the trash she wanted to talk by rolling his thumb over her clit and making her whimper as he grunted, "Shut up and cum on this dick. Cum. On. It. Mmhmm...just like that. So fuckin' easy..."
no pressure tags: @crxssjae @joannasteez @dreamsinfocus @jeyusos-girl @afterdarkprincess @theninthwonder @visionarymode @iguessilikewrestlingnow @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @thesamoanqueen
#alcide herveaux#alcide herveaux smut#alcide herveaux fanfiction#true blood smut#true blood#true blood fanfiction#werewolf fanfic#black writers#spilled ink
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Imagine:
You, Great Creator of Teyvat, in the life before returning to your loving creations, contract lycanthropy. Beneath the moon, your body breaks and reforms as a great beast of the hunt.
Upon returning to the world you made, that power is now within your grasp, instead of the other way around. You don't need to lock yourself in a secure place every month or desperately resist the allure of raw animal meat - you can just toggle the Mighty Awoo Form whenever you please.
The people of Teyvat don't really understand what it is about a child raised by literal wolves that has their Creator so enamored, but it's kind of something they envy.
All the money in the world means nothing, flying is a vague passing fancy, walking on water or making bonfires from nothing or summoning lightning are just kind of given a pat on the back for.
But this dog boy who isn't even fully literate is constantly being given little favors, like randomly getting steaks or a bunch of animals coming into the area his pack lives in so they don't go hungry.
Speaking of dog boys, Gorou is more than a little flustered by the fact that the Architect of Eternity favors him.
(It's the one thing he can hold over Yae Miko when she's terrorizing him, and he's all the more grateful to you for that protection.)
At some point, one of your very envious and flustered acolytes come to you and ask just what it is about the pair that has given them such favor in your eyes.
Your response is an invitation to all of your acolytes to a special room of the palace on the night of the full moon.
They're all very excited to see this room, which up until now has been off limits.
Upon entering, that excitement becomes concern because of the massive claw marks in every wall and also the heavy scent of blood and the fainter scent of rot.
Once they've gathered, and the moon has reached its apex in the sky, you reach back in your soul for the Wolf Within.
It reaches back, tail wagging a thousand miles an hour, eager and happy to be free to roam.
And you undergo the change.
They watch in something like horrified reverence as your mortal form is warped and ravaged by something from within, something making their Divine Creator into a beast.
And you stand again, the shift over, now completely towering over every other being in the room.
(Because I love Okami, I'm gonna say your holy werewolf form has the cool swirls and red outlines that Ammy does
but with a twist- instead of red, glimmering blue starlight adorns your fur, and the massive disc hovering behind you is made of perfect moonstone, connected stars softly drifting up from it, briefly forming constellations, and then vanishing.)
Razor BEAMS. The All-Maker was Lupical before, but now you're like Ultra Lupical! You are a wolf-person too, but, like, up to 11! You even have your own moon!
Gorou's smiling, his tail wagging rapidly. You know what it's like to have instincts like his, no wonder you were so considerate of his sensitivity to sound and smell, to his urges to chase- you had them all too.
Others range from 'absolutely flabbergasted' to 'weeping with jealousy' to 'a little worried why they're attracted to you being A Magical Wolf Person'.
You howl, and every other canine thing on the continent howls with you (including Razor, who is a wolf in spirit at the very least).
Andrius is having a big puppyish field day over the fact that the Celestial Packmaster is so close to his own form.
(He brags constantly to the other spirit animals of the world about how You definitely made him in Your image and gave him Razor to pass on the way of the wolf to, even if you didn't directly or indirectly do this.)
(The Adepti, for the first in probably millennia, feel their heart rates pick up in animal fear because if you so desired, they would be Back On The Menu, and no amount of running or flying would save them from the stamina of an enhanced human body mixed with the strength and speed of a divine wolf.)
You make sure your other hybrid or supernatural followers are well aware that you have nothing against them and that if you decide to go on a hunt, there's always space for them in your pack.
It becomes common for shrines to you to have guardian animals, dogs or wolves especially, and for hunters to bring your shrines the first kill they make under the light of the full moon every month.
(Maybe thanks to you 'accidentally' saying things out loud when you think you're alone, rumors start spreading that those with nonhuman traits (horns, animal ears and tails, nonhuman limbs) were descended from your favored servants or perhaps even your children.
And maybe that action means that those who've been ostracized for their nonhuman traits can live safer, happier lives, without the fear of rejection or the enmity of their neighbors.
But that's your little secret. They don't need to know.)
#genshin sagau#razor is a good boy#genshin impact x reader (platonic)#sagau#gorou is a good boy#werewolf reader#im having a good time writing these
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Siracusa, Zaaro and Authority.
It's Siracusa season once again! Fittingly I want to talk about the theme of authority within Il Siracusano's story, particularly how Zaaro embodies it, why it makes him the main boss of Il Siracusano and various characters relationship with authority. As well as where future events set in Siracusa, following the Signore dei Lupi, could take it.
A disclaimer though: I'm not a professional analysis writer, nor am I knowledgeable on this subject but I do want to talk about this nonetheless.
This post includes content from Terra: A Journey but without further ado:
Beast Lord
If you look at the Nations within Arknights, you can point out a specific aspect of that Nation as the major driving force for the stories taking place there. Whether it's the Seaborn in Iberia, Demons in Sami, Yan's Sui, Leithanien's Witch King. For Siracusa the first thought may be the mafia but with Zaaro being the main boss, accompanying Lappland going forwards and Red's story beginning at the end of Il Siracusano being purely about them, I'd say it's the Signore dei Lupi that are at the heart of Siracusa's story.
So what are the Signore dei Lupi? They're a group of Beast Lords, supernatural immortal animal spirits, and specifically the Lords of Wolves, inhabiting Siracusa's wilderness. They engage in a never ending game where each Signori trains one Lupo to be their Fang, their Assassin, and have them kill each other. The last Fang remaining's Signori then becomes the Packmaster and the cycle continues.
Zaaro is one of the Signore dei Lupi but I'll get back to him in a bit. Firstly I want to just state that of all the Nations in Arknights, Siracusa is the only Nation who revolves around the Beast Lords and appears to be where we're learning the most about them, through the Signore dei Lupi.
So, let's contextualize what a 'Beast Lord' exactly is and tie them to 'authority' because it seems obvious how they could, right? They are Lords, however to quote Lunacub's files and likely Kal'tsit:
"They sometimes call themselves the aristocrats of beasts, though they rule over nothing, that much I can guarantee."
And sure enough, if you look at the Beast Lords present in game they don't appear to rule over anything particularly. But I want to offer two theories. The first I want to say is likely possible for all the Beast Lords but we've only seen illustrated by the Signore dei Lupi and it comes from this passage in IS-10 just before Zaaro's bossfight:
In it Zaaro exerts his 'authority' over the cast of Il Siracusano. All the named characters present are Lupos, so it's likely something that the Beast Lords can do to anything considered 'kin' with them.
The second is illustrated in Terra: A Journey:
The Signore dei Lupi led to an unnaturally high amount of wolf packs in Siracusa's wilderness, implying that the Beast Lords have a part to play within the ecosystem and subsequently that because to my knowledge, Siracusa is the only Nation to have such an irregular Ecosystem via the Beast Lords, the Signori are doing something wrong.
So, authority is inherent to the Signore dei Lupi per being Beast Lords and regarding the ecosystem and Lupos it could be said that they've been taking their authority for granted and abusing it.
Now look at Siracusa. It revolves around family beliefs, whether that's an actual family or a business, a school, etc. It's emphasized by Siracusa's main race being Lupos and it's the same for the Signori being Wolves.
And as the Signori mirror the family beliefs of Siracusa, the authority that the Signori represent and which they abuse is also shared about those family systems within Siracusa. It's all in the components of Siracusa, how it's the one nation to look at the Beast Lords, to delve into their authority, Siracusa is commentating on how authority is wielded within these systems.
Now, to narrow it down to Zaaro and Il Siracusano. He embodies authority in the context of the event. Not just as a Beast Lord but by integrating himself into the Bellone Family and desire to wield the 'Power' of a mafia to attain his goals, he embodies it even more than any other Beast Lord.
And the relationships he has with different characters reflect this.
Vigil
It was his Azione Solo which inspired me to think about Zaaro through this lens with these lines from his Azione Solo:
If you look at Vigil, his entire story is about how he's influenced by different people. Whether it's Penance whose influence is deemed bad by Demetri, who he himself tries superseding his methods and telling him what is best for his family or his Dad who leaves him out of his plans, decides what he should do and expects him to be just a pawn in his plans.
Zaaro, the embodiment of authority, is this unavoidable truth for Vigil that he and everyone are just pawns for people like Bernado, Alberto or Sicily. His story goes on to have him make his own choices and resolve the situation with his own methods. He walks a different path from Demetri, stands up to his Father, faces down Sicily and withstands Zaaro trying to exert his authority over him.
It's a similar story for other characters. Rubio defies the authority that the mafia has over Siracusa. As a result, Penance who's been an enforcer of it's authority through the law gathered people to fight against it and Danbrown, who wanted free from the authority of the mafia, of his family in the Saluzzo famiglia, confronts Alberto.
Bernado himself as an interesting story. He saw how insignificant the mafia really was when he had left it and the city. He realized that the authority the mafia held over Siracusa was not as insurmountable as people thought and put in his plan to destroy Siracusa's authority.
But to do it he becomes the utmost authority in Siracusa besides Signora Sicily. He uses the mafia but at the same time he uses Zaaro, because they represent the same thing. And in the end, when he pulls off his plan to destroy the mafia, he takes his own life as well, betraying Zaaro and destroying any chance that he could win the Signori's plan.
He might've been an authority figure to Vigil and Demetri and everyone in Siracusa and abused that authority but he hated this authority all the same. For Zaaro, this embodiment of authority, he was his greatest pawn and he wanted nothing more than to spite him and the mafia all the same.
It's for these reasons that Bernado isn't the final boss, because he, like everyone, was a puppet of the authority of Siracusa that is the mafia. But as much as he and Lappland, want to destroy it, it's not really something you can destroy. But Zaaro embodies the same authority and he can be stood against and fought, even if he is invincible himself.
Emperor
So as stated, if Zaaro and Beast Lords represent authority and in Siracusa and Il Siracusano especially, what does that mean for Emperor as a Beast Lord himself?
Well, as this was the first event we see Emperor interacting with other Beast Lords and where Beast Lords as a concept was introduced, we get a lot of contextualization actually for him, in part from the characterization of the Signori:
The Signori are characterized as being extremely prideful in their "purpose" of creating a Packmaster through their game and here they project that same duty onto Emperor, believing him to have left his purpose behind.
But really this is a bad argument from the Signori. They let Siracusa's ecosystem fall into disarray, they made their game up so it's not their duty and as that last image shows: they're tiring of the game.
It can be argued though that this is the point: the Signori uphold this game, conflating it with duty when it's just to give them the feeling of being rulers when it's purely something they constructed themselves. That people in positions of power disguise their ego and desire as duty.
But I think there is an element of truth in what they say about Emperor. A Beast Lord's territory lets say would be important and leaving it is putting one's identity behind. His path from the Tundra, to Leithanien, to Columbia and wherever else, appears to be him looking for his place in the world.
And it's here when the real contrast between Zaaro and Emperor begin, with the introduction of Texas.
As stated, Zaaro embodies the authority of Siracusa. The Signori as a whole represent the family values and violence. They are manifestations of Siracusa or rather Siracusa formed in their image, forming their beliefs on the Signori.
And Texas's story is about how she grew up, being instilled with all the violence and abuse of Siracusa. She grew tired and resentful of it, tried to get away but she is Siracusan, no matter how much she tries to ignore that fact.
When Zaaro appears in the beginning of the event, he represents everything that she tries to ignore about herself as he is Siracusa made flesh. Everything that we see happen when Texas is brought back to Siracusa is just illustrating what this beast named Zaaro is. What this beast named Siracusa is.
But when Zaaro got Texas out of Siracusa after her family's fall, she left to Columbia and it was there that Emperor found her, alone, having lost everything. Emperor saw this and he devoted everything to giving her a place she belonged, like what he was searching for. He created Penguin Logistics, a place she could work and live and he hired all the PenLog members who'd end up as her friends.
If Zaaro is the abusive home that she left but had created her, then Emperor is the healthy home environment and while her boss, Emperor has only ever wanted the best for her unlike Zaaro who only saw a pawn.
This is the point of Zaaro and Emperor's relationship, this contrast on the sort of home Texas has. It's why she doesn't have an Bernado or Alberto in her story, because this takes it's place.
And it gives more meaning to Zaaro being the final boss for her event. For while Rubio's speech made her realize that Siracusa has a chance, that the authority that is the mafia, that is Zaaro is strong, it can still be defied. Why like Vigil and Penance, who've been affected by Bernado and the very systems of Siracusa, she joins to fight against the authority that is Zaaro.
But it's not them who beats Zaaro in the end. It's Emperor who was this Beast Lord like him but who gave Texas a healthy home that stopped Zaaro, the embodiment of Siracusa's abuse and abusive authority in the end.
And as we know, Texas does not stay in Siracusa. She's not Nearl of Gavial who go to their homes to continue making a change. She is as much a member of PenLog as she ever was and throughout the event her friends have been helping and supporting her.
And I find it interesting that he's with the other Signore dei Lupi. They're just there to remind Zaaro that he's lost and his vengeance is pointless. They don't care for the symbolism of Il Siracusano's cast fighting against him or Emperor stepping in.
And yet, Zaaro's actions were born from him growing tired of the game. Agnese, Lunacub's Signori, is trying to leave despite still being in the running because she tires and she looks to Emperor as a role model. She's the one who states that the Signori laugh at him but she herself understands his actions.
She wants to do for Lunacub as Emperor has for Texas. She's not the good Signori however. She isolated Lunacub from society to train her to kill. She harmed her. But she's looking to Emperor's example and taking responsibility for her harm to provide Lunacub a happier, healthier life.
And as Texas's file says: "At the same time, the game that the Signori dei Lupi have played for many years has come to the surface. This round is coming to an end, and the impact it will have on Siracusa is yet unknown."
The Signori must change and at least in this moment the Signori stand beside Emperor who represents a healthy home, against Zaaro who represents what they as the Signori represent.
But the thing is, I don't think that Zaaro is going to always embody the abuse of Siracusa. He might continue representing Siracusa but he's changing as well.
Lappland
We'll put a pin in that thought just for now because we don't follow Zaaro's story, we follow our Operators and as Il Siracusano came to and end we see that while we'll be seeing Zaaro's story continue, it'll be from Lappland's point of view. So what's her situation?
If most of the characters in the story are building up to their rebellion against Siracusa and it's authority, Lappland was already there. Her story goes that when she was little she disliked how she was being raised to be the new head of the Saluzzo family and her Father, Alberto, didn't show her any love and so she rebels against him.
Alberto outside of Zaaro is perhaps the most obvious authority figure who abuses his power, moreso honestly. His relationship with Lappland demonstrates it the most as he doesn't just neglect her but physically abuses her and her Azione Solo demonstrates how he destroys what brings Lappland happiness and how she felt caged by him.
She, like Texas, realizes that this treatment is at the heart of Siracusa. She calls herself the "perfect Siracusan" because of how violent and remorseless she is and her end goal of destroying Siracusa is clear recognition of the abuse Siracusa has and her answer to it.
But at the same time, when she loses to Texas during the Texas family purge and watches her leave Siracusa her worldview is tested. She thought Siracusa a swamp that was inescapable but Texas left and it goes well with Texas's own feelings. As said: Texas ignores and does not accept that she is Siracusan. Lappland fully embraces her Siracusan side, event when Alberto kicks her out, and she wants solely for Texas to return, to face her Siracusan side and prove that a Siracusan is everything that she is, that Zaaro represents. That it's inescapable.
And when Texas returns, she's resigned to be Siracusan but that's not where her story goes. After Giovanna's assassination attempt and the Rossati turning on her, when things look bleakest, Texas feels at her lowest and probably most resigned to the nature of Siracusa. But Rubio does his speech.
Texas realizes that Siracusa is everything that Zaaro represents, it is all this abuse of power, but that they can make a change and fight against that authority. It's in this moment that Texas proves Lappland wrong, that she is Siracusan and can accept it but she can be so without embracing it fully like Lappland and becoming like Zaaro.
She tells Lappland as such and it's turned on her. For as much as Lappland despises Siracusa and her Dad, she has been so defined by it that she embraced it. She remained as trapped as her Musbeast in her Azione Solo. Waiting to see if Texas could leave and she does. She proves that Lappland can't escape Siracusa but she doesn't need to let it define her or stay shackled to it.
And it's then that she faces her Dad, the biggest authority figure in her life and cuts ties with him. For as much as she has rebelled, she's never been able to accept that it's really possible to accept what Siracusa has done and strive forwards in spite of it. This is her first rebellion that meant something, that actually stood as a defiance against Siracusa and it's authority over her.
And so, while she's always been rebelling against Siracusa, against her Dad, against Sicily, this is the first one that truly mattered and it's why fighting Zaaro when she does isn't a repeat of all her past rebellions. It's only now that she can look at Siracusa and not see an insurmountable swamp but as something she can fight back against.
But as she says, she's going to destroy Siracusa. That's her goal. I think that it will be a more personal Siracusa to her, the Siracusa that created her as opposed to all of Siracusa but even still, she's not put her past behind and is moving forwards like the others.
She's still got to fight Siracusa, she's still got to walk alongside it for a bit longer, maybe even as Zaaro says and essentially for her whole life. And that's why she fights Zaaro again, fight Siracusa like she always had, but now she can walk alongside it in understanding of what it is. Siracusa doesn't control her anymore, it cannot destroy her.
And I think that in walking alongside Lappland that Zaaro is going to make some realizations himself about the nature of Siracusa and the Signore dei Lupi.
But that is it for Zaaro and mostly for Il Siracusano. We'll have to see where Lappland and Zaaro's stories go in the next Siracusa event but for now that is it. That is why there is so much meaning behind Zaaro's role in Il Siracusano, what his bossfight means when on the surface he just wants to kill Vigil out of spite.
I could say that we'll learn more about Demetri's relationship with authority and Siracusa in the next event. Why the Bellone family was so important or the ways of Siracusa. I also think it's interesting how Signora Sicily shows no surprise, reverence or respect towards Zaaro because she has overcome Siracusa's authority of the mafia once and so what is Zaaro to her?
But instead I want to talk about another instance of the same 'authority' that Zaaro tried and failed to exert over the Il Siracusano cast.
Projekt Red
The 'authority' that Zaaro tires to exert over the cast in IS-10 is the exact same that phenomenon that causes Lupos to be afraid of Projekt Red. It actually makes Lappland's Trust 2 more interesting. In it she says that Red would certainly kill her in a fight but that she wants to fight her and is confused as to why.
As the core of it is authority, it's essentially "what if Lappland faced Zaaro's authority before she was ready?" she still wants to rebel but she's afraid of it. Perhaps afraid that it's pointless, she'd still be trapped, because Texas hadn't returned yet. All the cast of Siracusano was able to stand against Zaaro but besides Demetri maybe all of them had resolved themselves to fight Siracusa and the authorities over them.
But Red. It's difficult, even for myself as the self proclaimed expert on her, to say exactly what her story, themes and beliefs are. I believe though that it's possible that she ties into this theme of authority herself and not just because of her ability to exert her authority over Lupos.
Consider this:
This shot is from the second concept trailer. Their story has been entwined since that long ago and if Red is supposed to be connected to 'authority',
Isn't it perfect that her arch nemesis is called 'Crownslayer' ?
And it does seem that their story could be following such beats. Red is almost certainly going to be proven the strongest of the Fangs as the only one besides an unnamed one left. Grandma is going to become the Packmaster and lead the Signore dei Lupi.
And Grandma... god... I feel that she could be the purest example of an abusive figure of authority. Moreso than Alberto. Certainly more than Zaaro.
I've talked about how Lunacub contrasts Red's situation and Agnese taking responsibility for the harm she's inflicted to Lunacub is one such way because Grandma would never. She is illustrated to be the most cruel Signori, teaching Red no useful skills outside of killing and Red's module shows how Grandma cares only for Red's use to her and how Red broke because of Grandma's upraising.
A lot of Red's problems, like her speech, education, cutting things close to her, can be followed right to Grandma. Red also has no recognized the harm that Grandma has inflicted upon her, choosing Grandma over Rhodes and even Kal'tsit couldn't help Red because of how deeply ingrained Grandma's indoctrination was.
Her story will follow Grandma's abuse of her and how she recognizes Grandma's abuse and gathers the strength to overcome her and it'll be interesting to see how she reacts to the sort of authority that Zaaro and her can exert because of Grandma's hold on her life and her facing her down like the Zaaro bossfight.
Likely we'll see her and maybe Crownslayer in the next Siracusa event so we'll see then.
I may have more thoughts but they're not rising to the surface at the moment so that is the post! I thank you for reading this far, I hope it was interesting and I'm excited to see what future Siracusa events add to it!
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a place to call home | ❤️
; optional male lead fluff | ☁️
w: werewolf!au, mention of abusive past
You feel as if your legs will give out any second. Tired, cold, starving with every inch of your body shaking as you keep your pace while sprinting through the woods. You can’t stop now that you’ve finally gotten away from them, and you can’t look back in case the fear that kept you with them for so long takes hold, urging you to return after you gathered up all of your strength to run.
You keep running, legs shaking, tired, cold, head spinning and bare feet aching as you whip past the trees surrounding you, too exhausted to shift into wolf form, though it would be a hell of a lot faster. It would get you farther from them, you know, but you keep running, unable to shift… shaking, tired, cold.
The blur of the white house comes into your view just past the line of trees ahead. You blink a few times, finally slowing down after what feels like miles of running, finally being able to take a deep breath for a moment, and finally being able to look behind you.
It’s too dark to see, but you know they’re out there, sniffing around for your scent, hoping to catch your trail. You continue running closer to the house because it’s the only one for miles. You quiver with your aching feet as a chill surges down your spine, wishing you could shift and carry on, but the light blue porch steps and the door with the chipped, red paint are your only salvation. You knock with desperation, heart drumming in your ears so loud you can’t even hear the sound of your knuckles tapping the old wood, but the sting in your fist assures you that you beat against the door at least three times.
Your knees hit the wooden planks, a burn ripping through your thighs as you try to balance yourself up right, but it’s no use. The door swings open, eyes fluttering as the view of white socks in front of you begins to blur. A voice calls for you, cursing a few times once they realize the state you’re in, but you can’t find the strength to reply. You’re too tired, too cold, starving and broken and beaten… and you’re too scared to keep running.
Your eyes close as a hand grips your arm, black filling your vision before your mind spins and your body finally gives out, collapsing.
In your dreams you see the one that hurt you. The leader of your pack in all of his strength, his power, and his aggression, forcing young wolves like you to do as he pleased. You had barely shifted for the first time before you were ordered to be wed to an older wolf in your pack, like most females were. You didn’t even consider yourself an adult, yet you were expected to give yourself to someone you barely knew, signing your life away as if it were no more important than a flimsy piece of paper. You were expected to honor and obey your packmaster, carry on the tradition like your mother before you. You were expected to be human when you were told, and wolf when it counted, pleasing someone you barely knew. Someone older, with more experience, someone that already had a life.
In your dreams you see your mother, begging you not to run with tears streaming down her face. You tell her you love her, and you’re sorry for leaving.
In your dreams the packmaster catches you on your first attempt in escaping, making sure you know the consequences for betraying your pack, but you’re too determined to give up. You try again, and the last thing you see in your dreams is him chasing you through the woods, calling your name, ordering you to return to the pack.
When your eyes open, sunlight fills the room as the warm rays shine down on your cold, dirty body. A softness beneath you eases the ache in your muscles, but the blanket covering your shaking legs offers no warmth. You glance around, spotting a small TV with two large antennas, a stone fireplace to the left, a rug in front, and finally the yellow couch with a white, flower pattern you’re settled against. Your heart begins to race taking in the living room, gulping as you look to your left to see a small hallway and a few closed doors, and to your front to see the humble kitchen with the coffee maker’s red light beaming as it brews its first pot of the morning.
The moment you hear shuffling down the hall, your first instinct is to scream, not bothering to look at the figure making its way toward you. It happens in a flash, ripping the blanket from your legs, bounding toward the door even though every inch of you aches and burns, and the man calling for you as he rushes behind you, wrapping two arms around your body as you squirm to get away.
“Let-Let me go!” you scream again, but your voice is more weak, more hoarse than you’re used to. The strained words only startle him for a minute, but he grips you tighter, beginning to drag you toward the couch. “Stop! Please! Let me… Let me go!”
Your eyes shut before the first tear drop can hit your cheek, body being pushed against the couch as the images fill your mind of the men in your pack holding you down if they were to find you again. You can only imagine the things they would do if they caught you a second time, making sure you never betrayed your pack again.
“Calm down…” A deep, yet calm voice hits your ears, preventing you from releasing a sob from your mouth. Your eyes pop open, tears welling behind the lids as you take in the sight of the stranger, finding him staring back, blinking a few times before he licks his lips. He cards fingers through his hair as he exhales a deep breath, and the sight of him settled against the wooden coffee table in front of you has you frozen in place. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
His eyes widen and his brows arch, wanting to make sure you understand the words. You can only offer a nod, slow and cautious, never taking your eyes from him as he leans away from you to rest his palms against his thighs.
“I want to help you…” He lowers his eyes with a sigh, and it’s clear he is deep thought over something for a moment. He tells you his name in an attempt to calm you. “What’s yours?”
He forces a smile as you stare, and you probably look like a wild animal to him with your sunken cheeks, dark circles around your eyes, and hair disheveled with dirt on your skin. It wouldn’t be too far off, but you’re positive this stranger doesn’t even know your kind exist, let alone realize you’re a wolf on the run from your pack. You say nothing for the moment to calm your breathing, and finally tell him your name after gulping to clear your throat.
He grins again, and this time it’s genuine as he repeats your name. “Okay, so… where did you come from?” He says the words slowly, as if he’s worried he will scare you once again. “You showed up last night banging on my door then you just… collapsed.”
You blink a few times as he speaks, finding more comfort than you imagined in his deep voice. His facial gestures when he seems surprised would cause you to giggle if it were any other situation, and the way his shoulders slump as if he’s lost in confusion make it obvious he only wishes to understand how you showed up at his home in the middle of the night.
Before you can come up with an excuse to tell him, your stomach begins to rumble, reminding you of the hunger after being on the run for more than a day. Without warning, you rise to your feet, and he is tempted to follow you, but when you turn to head straight for the kitchen, he remains seated. You have no problem slinging his refrigerator door open, listening to the bottles clash together as you rummage through the shelves, stopping on a fresh pack of meat from the market. In seconds you rip open the plastic, grabbing a handful of cold, raw meat to shove in your mouth, and the sight has him muttering as he jolts from his spot toward the kitchen.
“Uh.. you don’t wanna cook that? If you’re hungry… you don’t have to eat… raw… meat…”
His words fade as he stares, watching you devour the packet piece by piece until there’s nothing but dripping blood left in the styrofoam container.
“Hungry,” you mumble, cheeks full of meat as you toss the container on the counter.
“Um, yeah… I can tell.” He chuckles, shaking his head and you’re not in your right mind to wonder why he isn’t interrogating you over your sudden appearance, or the fact that you just gulped down raw meat in front of him. “Do you want a hot shower, maybe?” His eyes trail down to your muddy feet, then back up to the dried dirt, and now blood, on your face.
You nod quickly and he shows you to the shower, offering a clean towel, washcloth, and some baggy clothes with a few holes in them for you to throw on. Washing the dirt from your body seems to be therapeutic the moment you step beneath the hot, steaming stream, wasting enough time easing the ache from your muscles that the water turns cold. You dry off with haste and throw on his clothes, feeling more comfortable than you imagined as you make your way to him in the living room.
“Feeling better?” he asks the second he spots you, noticing your clean face and hair causes you to look rejuvenated. You can only nod as you settle in the spot at the very end of the couch, keeping enough distance between the two of you and remaining closer to the front door than him. “So, uh…”
He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, then he sighs.
“Where did you come from?” he asks, and waits a few seconds to realize you’re not going to answer him, but only continue to stare. “Look… I wanna help you, but you have to work with me. Are you in trouble? Do I need to call the police?”
The moment he reaches for his pocket, you’re stretching toward him to grip his arms, causing him to freeze in place. “No!” His eyes widen as you stare down at him, jaw tight, nostrils flared. “No police! No one can know that I’m here, okay?”
Slowly, he nods before you release your grip on his arms and fall back in your seat. “Did you… run away?” His voice is low as he asks, more cautious than before, but still curious. “Is someone trying to hurt you?”
Saying nothing, you pluck at the loose thread on the flannel pants he gave you to wear. The words cut deep into your chest, though you know he doesn’t mean to. He’s only curious, and he wants to help, yet he picks at unhealed wounds with the question, forcing the memories to flood your mind, causing you to remember exactly why you’re there in the first place.
All you can do is nod, never meeting his gaze, and he drops the subject for now. Later you will remember to thank him for his generosity in letting you stay without giving too many answers, but for now you remain quiet, and he asks no more questions other than if you would like some hot food to eat.
***
The nightmares continue that night, but for once they aren’t full of memories taunting you, never allowing you to forget what the pack has done to you. They’re new images flooding your mind, preparing you for the future, promising a life full of paying the consequences for escaping from an abusive packmaster. They show you what will happen if you’re caught, not only to you, but your mother as well. They’re a guarantee that if they are to find you, you won’t receive another chance in getting away.
You awake in his bed the second morning, sweat dripping down your neck as you clutch the fresh, white sheets beneath you. A warm glow seeps through the curtains to let you know the sun is just beginning to rise as you gasp for air, calling out for help to no one at all, but dying to be saved to keep you from facing your pack master again.
He is at your side in seconds, eyes sleepy but widening the moment he spots you struggling to breathe. His hand on your back offers a comfort you never thought you would find with someone else, and though there isn’t much he can do to cure your panic, he stays with you, telling you it’s okay, telling you he’s there for you.
When you can take a deep breath, you struggle to thank him, but all he says is, “of course,” and offers to make you breakfast. The hot food warms you up in an instant, enjoying the bacon and eggs he prepared for the both of you between sips of OJ. The two of you remain quiet as you eat, but you know he’s dying to ask about your nightmare, just like he’s dying to know where you came from.
He remains patient while you remain a mystery. He inquires about other things - your parents, your childhood, your friends, hobbies and interests - and you realize after not having an answer for any of it, growing up with the pack left you no room to get to know who you really are.
You also realize that if you’re not going to talk, he will do all the talking for you. He tells you about his family through funny and embarrassing stories to make you laugh, but it also makes you curious about why he lives alone so far out of town. He tells you about his love for animals, books, and venturing into the woods to take pictures. He asks if you know about the stream just south of his house, where there’s a small waterfall and all the rabbits like to gather.
He cooks dinner that night and promises to show you some of his pictures as the two of you eat, and though he is a complete stranger, you find yourself excited to know more about him. Maybe because you never got the option to grow close to anyone in your pack, or maybe it’s because he treats you like a human being.
The nightmares return the moment you close your eyes, leaving you jolting upright in a panic once again. He comes to your aid for the second morning in a row, calming your worries, assuring you it’s alright, and you breathe a bit better as soon as he’s at your side. His gentleness is something you have little experience with, as well as his patience and care. He talks softly to you, but he makes sure you understand what he’s saying, and you do. You pay attention with every ounce of focus in you when he speaks, whether it be a funny story as he makes eggs, or explaining his thought process when he shows you another picture he took.
You never have much to say because you were always too sheltered. You’re not anywhere near as interesting as him, and you assume the only stories you can tell are ones that would worry him if he were to find out.
“I’m not like you.”
But there is still something you need to tell him. He looks up at you the fourth morning you stay with him, bacon between his lips as he freezes, then takes a bite and grins.
“What do you mean?” He chuckles, chewing slowly, cautious of what he asks and how he asks it.
“I don’t come from… this.” Your gesture around you, but what you really mean is everything he is. You’re not interesting in your hobbies and picture taking and you don’t have any friends or family that care about you. You aren’t sure how to tell him that, however, and part of you knows the reason you even mentioned it is because you want him to know you’re not even human. “You have been so nice to me, and understanding, letting me stay here and cooking for me to try and make me feel welcome. I don’t deserve it.”
He frowns hearing the last words. “What do you mean?” With a shake of his head, he tosses the bacon down, pushing his entire plate aside. “Everyone deserves a place to stay, a warm meal, and someone to look out for them. Everyone deserves some kindness.”
You gulp as you feel the familiar tug behind your eyes, knowing the tears will begin swelling any second. He’s too good for you, you think to yourself, and maybe part of your reasoning is that he doesn’t deserve to get dragged into whatever your life was and will be. He’s too sweet, too kind and has too big of a heart, and you know this after he’s let you sleep in his bed, eat his food, and ask no other questions since the moment you told him someone wanted to hurt you.
“I should go…” By the time you stand from the small kitchen table, you have already made up your mind. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I shouldn’t have.”
You begin mumbling and searching for the rags you showed up at his front door in, but he’s quick to follow you, gripping you by the arms with gentle palms.
“What are you talking about?” You attempt to wiggle your way free, and he allows you to step away from him. “Just because you’re not like me doesn’t mean you have to leave.“
“Yes it does!” The first tear hits your cheek, and it’s hot, and it stings, and it reminds you that you could never live a normal life no matter how far you run, or how long you spend away from your pack. He is too good for you, and your heart races in fear from the thought of him in the middle of you and your pack. “I can’t stay!”
“I just want to help-”
“You can’t!” you interrupt, turning away before you see the pain twisting in his expression. The tears continue to fall, guilt weighing down your chest.
He steps for you, reaching out his arms to stop you from leaving. “If you just let me-”
“No!” You push him away, stepping away until your back hits the door.
“Just tell me what’s wrong…”
“I-I can’t…”
“Please-”
“I’m not human!” The words slip from your lips before you can stop yourself, tears rolling down your face, a heaviness in your heart that reminds you you could never live like him, or be like him, or be with him, and the past few days were nothing more than taunting you with a life you will never be able to experience. “I’m not… I’m not human.” Breathlessly you tell him the truth, tell him why you have to leave, tell him he’s in danger if you stay, but all he can do is shake his head and march toward you.
“What does that even mean?” he asks, and he freezes only a foot in front of you. “What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?”
“I have to go…” You raise your chin, blinking away the last few tears while gathering the courage to be strong. He says nothing, realizing he doesn’t understand, but he can’t hold you there. Even if he wants you to stay, and he wants to help you, you have to make up your mind on your own.
When he backs away, he gives you the freedom to leave. You make up your mind after looking into his eyes, spotting the innocence that was stolen from you, the passion you will never experience, and the gentleness you have only ever received from him. With a shaking hand, you reach for the door, turning away to leave, never looking back in fear you will change your mind.
***
You spend your night wandering the woods south of his home. Your legs and feet grow tired by sundown, but you stay on the move in hopes that if your pack is tracking you, your scent will be far enough away that he will remain safe. Your stomach growls as the moonlight slips through the trees, and you’re tempted to find a lonesome bunny in the woods to snack on, but you resist the primal urge inside of you, remembering when he mentioned the rabbits next to the stream.
He is the type to befriend an animal, and the idea has you smiling to yourself for only a second before realizing he probably isn’t the type to defend himself against a pack of wild werewolves. The thought earns a racing heart as you continue your journey, having it finally click the amount of danger you put him in. You had no choice but to leave, and you tell yourself over and over as you hear the sound of water trickling past the stones that separate the forest.
You had no choice, you think again, looking over the stream in front of you beneath the pale moonlight, an ache settling not only in your feet and legs, but now in your chest.
You had no choice, you continue to tell yourself, but if you had no choice, why does your heart ache for him as if it was the wrong one. Why is he the only thing on your mind, and why is the sight of the stream in front of you that he onced talked about so close to bringing you to tears?
You make a small space to sleep by a tree trunk, gathering up leaves for a bed, and the sounds of the stream lull you away to dreamland. For the first night in a while, you don’t dream of your pack, or your mother, but of him. You see his face as he promises he won’t hurt you as you eat the eggs and bacon he’s cooked. You can hear his laugh as he tells you stories, and you notice the patience in his eyes when you’re too afraid to tell him your own.
By morning, every inch of you aches inside and out. You tell yourself it’s from sleeping on the ground, looking down at the dirt, leaves, and broken sticks beneath you, but then you spot his clothes. His flannel pants and his ripped shirts still cover your body, and even though you’re too weak to have the full senses of a werewolf, if you inhale deep enough you might even get a hint of his scent.
Your eyes shut as you take in the smell of him, remembering the smallest details of his face, wishing you could hear his laughter, wishing he was there to comfort you like he did those mornings after having a nightmare. The ache in your heart overpowers the rest of your body, but now there is a desire to accompany the unfamiliar sting. There’s loneliness as you picture his face when you told him you were leaving, yet there’s a need to see him again, even if it’s just for a moment.
You cling to the hope in your desire because it’s the only thing that has kept you going since you left your pack. You focus on the need for a new life, a real life, and even though you haven’t known him for long, he opened up his home, and himself, to you, and it’s all the convincing you need to realize maybe a life with him in it is the kind of life you have been so desperate to have.
You begin racing through the woods just like the night you ran away, except now there’s a new strength inside of you that has you hanging on to the promise of something better, something different. Your energy returns when you picture his face in your mind, finding yourself running quicker with every step until you feel the familiar burn in your bones. Your hands hit the dirt before you can realize you’re beginning to shift, thankful your strength has returned as you make your way toward his home.
Four paws climb up the steps to his front door, and the only thing you can do is howl until you have earned his attention. The door swings open with a wide-eyed man staring down at you, taking in your white fur covering every part of your body, your wagging tail, and your long snout just past two black eyes looking up at him.
He freezes for a moment, and finally begins to move once you lower your head, inviting him to place his hand against your head. He loves animals, you remember, and it only takes him a few seconds to gather the strength to give in, reaching to pet between your ears.
The moment doesn’t last for long, however, feeling that tingling in your bones a second before your fur disappears and your four paws become two hands and feet. He jumps back with a yelp, landing on his butt now that you’re sitting in front of him, fully human, and fully naked. He rubs his eyes as if he’s a kid on Christmas morning, begging to stutter and stammer, trying to make sense of the situation, but he’s got nothing.
“Please… don’t be scared!” You try to reach for him, but when his body stiffens, you pull away. “I told you… I’m not… human.” Your eyes lower from meeting his gaze, voice quiet while wondering how you can help him understand what you are.
“But you didn’t tell me you were… that!” His jaw hangs open, and if he wasn't in such a state of shock, you would begin giggling from his reaction.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” A frustrated sigh falls from your lips. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to… to hate me.”
He blinks a few more times, and finally his mouth snaps shut. Then he takes a deep breath, and heat rises to his cheeks once the fact settles in that you’re naked. “I could never hate you…” He averts his gaze to anywhere but your bare breasts, and this time you do release a giggle at his shyness. “So, um, yeah… are you just playing a prank on me or something? ‘Cause if so, good job! You got me! But I am ready for an explanation now.” Nervous chuckles release between the words, and you only shake your head to confirm it is a reality.
“No prank.” Then you sigh, taking a moment to go over the details you want to tell him in your head. “I told you I wasn’t human. I’m a werewolf. I… ran from my pack, that’s how I ended up here. I’m a werewolf, and I’m… well, I really regret leaving you.”
His mouth opens and shuts, and you wonder if he will pass out the moment you notice his face going pale, but he sits up right to lean closer. “You do?” A nod confirms the question, and a slight smile forms on his lips. “I feel like I am going crazy right now, but… why don’t you come in and put some clothes on?”
“Thank you.”
You follow him inside to get dressed in his clothes, and you explain to him in the simplest terms of your kind, your pack, and finally, where you came from. He takes it all in without a word, and you shed a few tears in the process. He listens closely while you spill your heart to him, telling him everything you were too afraid to say the morning you woke up in his living room.
Eventually he believes the reality of werewolves existing, but in the end you realize he only cares about helping you. He comes to the realization that it doesn’t matter what you are, or where you come from, everyone deserves a place to stay, a warm meal, and someone to look out for them. After hearing about your past as well as your hopes to live a normal life, he makes a promise in that moment that he will be the one to look out for you.
#bts fluff#marvel fluff#call of duty fluff#twilight fluff#harry potter fluff#jungkook fluff#loki fluff#nct fluff#got7 fluff#monsta x fluff#stray kids fluff#harry styles fluff#ghost fluff#jimin fluff#taehyung fluff#x reader
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If I Ran the Zoo: Bestiary 1 Humanoids
Pathfinder 1e did a much better job keeping its monsters on an even level of balance between products than its progenitor, D&D 3.x, did. But even so, there was some room for improvement. One of the most notable gaps, I feel, is the power level of classic D&D humanoids compared to other monsters of their CR. The power discrepancy between a gnoll and an orc is a well known example, where the orc has a lower CR on paper but is a much nastier combatant. But compare across the same CR and you’ll notice similar patterns. Look at a boggard, a bugbear and a morlocks, for example, and it’s pretty clear that the bugbear is rather less powerful than its supposed peers. I suspect that’s for reasons of backwards compatibility.
I don’t care about backwards compatibility.
So here’s how I would alter and augment some of the classic D&D humanoids to be more in tune with their Pathfinder flavor text, and to be more challenging to your players. Many of these are just adjusting mental ability scores upwards, but there’s a few more complicated changes in store as well.
Bugbear
Boo! (Ex) A bugbear can make an Intimidate check to demoralize a single target as a move action. If it takes a standard action instead, it gains a +2 bonus.
Tools of the Trade (Ex) Bugbears count saps, light hammers, warhammers and earthbreakers as simple weapons, and treat one exotic weapon of their choice as a martial weapon for the purposes of proficiency (bolas, garrotes and lassos are popular choices).
Drow
Fueled by Spite (Su) As a standard action once per day, a drow can grant itself temporary hit points equal to their Hit Dice plus Charisma modifier (minimum 1 temporary hit point). These hit points last for 1 hour, or until expended.
(Yes, I know that PF2e is writing the drow out as part of them continuing to cut ties with D&D. I have my own ideas of how to handle that).
Giants
Greatclubs are simple weapons, so any giant with Martial Weapon Proficiency (greatclub) can trade it for a different feat. A suggested feat for hill giants is Dazzling Display or Toughness, and a suggested feat for stone giants is Combat Reflexes or Improved Initiative. Fire giants gain weapon familiarity with greatswords and longswords, treating them as simple weapons. Suggested replacements for Martial Weapon Proficiency for a fire giant include Greater Sunder, Greater Overrun, or Improved Critical (greatsword). Frost giants gain weapon familiarity with battleaxes and greataxes, treating them as simple weapons. Suggested replacements for Martial Weapon Proficiency for a frost giant include Improved Initiative, Iron Will, or Vital Strike.
Gnolls
Bite Attack: All gnolls have a bite attack as a primary natural weapon that deals 1d4 points of damage. The Snapping Bite feat still exists; it increases the bite damage to 1d6, and allows the gnoll to make bite attacks while wielding weapons at a -2 penalty, as if it had the Multiattack feat.
Weapon Familiarity (Ex) Gnolls treat flails and heavy flails as if they were simple weapons, and nunchaku and flindbars as martial weapons.
In addition, there are two subraces of gnolls, the Carrion Crewe and the Packmasters. Carrion Crewe gnolls tend to be chaotic evil in alignment, whereas Packmaster gnolls tend to be neutral. Each has an additional unique ability modifier, and its own racial ability.
Carrion Crewe Gnolls: +2 Con
Plague Born (Ex) Carrion Crewe gnolls gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against disease, ingested poisons, and becoming nauseated or sickened.
Packmaster Gnolls: +2 Wis
Hopeful (Ex) Packmaster gnolls gain a +2 racial bonus on saving throws against fear effects and emotion effects such as despair, grief or boredom. They do not gain this bonus against rage effects, or other types of emotion effects, such as an unnatural lust or overwhelming presence spell (GM’s discretion).
Goblin
-2 Str, +4 Dex, -2 Wis: Goblins are fast, but physically weak and prone to foolishness
Hobgoblin
Spurn Elf-Magic (Ex) Hobgoblins gain a +2 racial bonus to all saving throws against arcane spells.
Kobold
-4 Str, +2 Dex, +2 Cha: Kobolds are physically very weak, but have agile muscles and strong personalities
Ogre
+10 Str, -2 Dex, +4 Con, -4 Int. Ogres do not have a penalty to Charisma, as they are very good at jug playing, dancing, and terrifying their victims.
Orc
+4 Str, -2 Int, -2 Cha. Orcs are in tune with their senses and surroundings, even if they do tend to fight first and think later.
Troll
+10 Str, +4 Dex, +12 Con, -2 Int, +2 Wis, -2 Cha. Golarion’s trolls are not as stupid as their cohorts in other versions of reality. They are stubborn, and have the keen senses of a predator.
Vegepygmy
A vegepygmy is as it appears in Pathfinder Bestiary 1, but is a CR 1/3 creature. Their endonym is a succession of short popping sounds. If you dislike the word “pygmy” in the name (which is fair, and I’ve had people discuss in my notes before), consider calling them “russetoids” or “stemons” (named after the brown slime mold genus Stemonitis)
#if i ran the zoo#pathfinder 1e#orc#ogre#troll#goblin#goblinoid#kobold#bugbear#drow#giant#hobgoblin#vegepygmy#age of monsters#i take a hammer and fix the canon
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Token of the Packmaster~
I’ve always loved the walk-through-the-blizzard, post-Haven scene. Also found it interesting how you can hear wolves howling in the distance...
#dragon age#da#lavellan#solavellan#dai#dragon age inquisition#inquisitor#fen’harel#mage inquisitor#elf inquisitor#female inquisitor#skyhold#my art#iliana lavellan#mage lavellan
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packmaster and broodfather B)
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Hybrid Class Review: Hunter part 3
(art by CariadArt on DeviantArt)
Archetypes
The hunter has a decent number of archetypes attached to it, and they do a good job of playing with the concept, playing with what abilities are granted by their special bond with their companions.
Certain hunters draw upon more specialized environments, such as the aquatic beastmaster and pelagic hunter, which draw upon the creatures of the deep both natural and supernatural, as well as the scarab stalker, which draws upon the desert and it’s denizens. Also consider the urban hunter, who master a different sort of jungle in civilization, and the treestrider, who favors the trees and jungle.
Others specialize in unusual types of companions. Plant masters cultivate and bond with a monstrous plant companion, while verminous hunters find kinship with various giant vermin.
Some, however, are defined by how their exact bond with their companion differs. Chameleon adepts are good at transforming their companions to blend in with civilization, while divine hunters bless their companion with divine energies. Meanwhile, packmasters bond with multiple companions at once, while primal companion hunters infuse their companion with transformative power, making them resemble an otherworldly being rather than a mortal beast. Additionally, totem-bonded become more beastlike with their bond, while their companion becomes smarter.
Of course, some are defined by how they work with their companions for a specific job. Colluding scoundrels are cold-hearted sorts that use their own allies and companion as bait to give them the perfect shot, for example. Meanwhile, courtly hunters mix courtly knowledge with their natural arts, while feykillers specialize in fighting against fey influences as one of the dangers of the wilds. Flood flourishers specialize in hunting in deep water, while patient ambushers do the same in most any environment. Back in civilization, roof runners move about the rooftops for noble or ignoble reasons, while the uprooter scouts venture into the blighted Tanglebriar in hopes of one day removing Treerazer from their homeland.
Finally, there is one archetype that actually forgoes having a companion altogether, instead turning the class into a mid-power druidic caster akin to a nature-themed magus, in the form of the shapeshifting and beast-summoning feral hunters,
As you can see, these archetypes cover a lot of themes and variations of the idea of a bonded warrior of nature and their companion, so you’ll not want for anything when it comes to choice with this class.
Tune in tomorrow with some more thoughts about the class!
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Hi! I'm a fic writer. Not too sure the best way to get fic out there outside of people just finding it on AO3.
I am currently writing The Many Faces of Izzy Hands. It's rated E and is updating at least once, often twice or three times a week. I'm attempting to play with and subvert the usual bodyswap tropes. Contains Steddyhands content.
Izzy pisses off the wrong person in a market on a strange island and receives a strange mark for his troubles. He initially arrives back at the Revenge as his twentysomething self. But he soon learns that there's more to the curse he's been afflicted with than simply making him younger. He discovers that he has the ability to become other people, though it's difficult and hard to control. Is it actually a curse? Or is there more going on than meets the eye?
I also have two Vianton fics.
At First Bite (complete, 12k)
Anton has always had a thing for vampires, but lately he's had a crush on one vampire in particular. But supernatural politics and other relationships always got in the way of him trying to make a move. One night, at the Unholy Masquerade, the werewolf finally shoots his shot - much to the surprise of Viago.
But Anton has a few complications of his own that tie directly into werewolf politics. And why does Viago find being with Anton so...familiar?
Hair of the Dog (complete, 19.4k)
The vampire and werewolf communities in Wellington are at each others' throats again after a period of peace. They go to a witch arbiter as a last resort. But her solution is a bit more extreme than any of them ever intended.
Anton and Viago find themselves in each others' bodies and are forced to live the lives of their enemies while trying to find a way to bring peace. That's the only way they have any chance of getting their own lives back.
But Viago finds being alive again with all the senses of a werewolf to be quite intoxicating. And Anton finds his new vampiric life seductive, especially since he's unburdened from the responsibility of being packmaster. Add to that a rising attraction and appreciation for each other, and it all adds up to an interesting scenario.
#our flag means death#izzy hands#ofmd fanfic#vianton#fanfic#ofmdfanfic#wwditsfanfic#bodyswap fanfic#steddyhands
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