[OOC/SIGNUP/ROLL20] Pathfinder: The Depths of Cetlicca

{Dear Father}Dearest Father,

    I understand your frustration. The anxiety of the living is crushing. Of the people I have met in my travels, very few seem untroubled, and at best the ones who seem so have merely found a way to not let their troubles affect them. I pity them all, but they also greatly frustrate me. I suppose as well that I share all their faults in addition to our own kind's. This realization makes me wonder then, if I give up on why I ran away and join your ideals, will I truly belong in your Dead World either? I don't believe so. For this reason, I've yet to abandon my hopes that I can find a place among the living, though I find that hope much more difficult to cling to as days pass by.

    I wish to inform you of the faithful of this land. Cetlicca is blessed with a patron deity, a god of society by the name Abadar. Two of my newfound allies are devout followers, and I find myself getting along with them the best of my companions. One is a priest by the name of Baldwin, who spends his days among the common man, serving as a spiritual leader and preaching the ways of order and society. He is always the most rational and clear headed of my companions. I greatly respect his wisdom. The other follower follows a different path of Abadar. Where Baldwin preaches to the followers, Sir Ornstain is a knight dedicated to hunting the enemies of Abadar and the city. He is by far the most dedicated of our allies, and I am hard pressed to ever see him in a state of rest. While I greatly admire and appreciate his dedication to the city and his god, he is still a member of the living, and as such I worry about his apparent disdain towards obtaining rest. For one not of our kind, forgoing such needs has dire consequences I fear he will succumb to.

    The other faith seems to be that of a goddess named Sarenrae. At first, she was introduced to me as a goddess of Redemption. Fitting, as the woman within our group who follows her most dearly is a self-redeeming succubus. However, as days go on, and I learn more of this 'Dawnflower' as she is often referred to as, I grow wary that this is the same goddess of the sun that the Cult of Light followed. Lady Octavia seems to be accepting towards me, however, so I mustn't let such fears overwhelm me. The second member of this faith I have been introduced to is someone difficult to speak to, by the name of Sister Alya. I know very little about her outside her faith, save for the fact she looks exactly the way you described mother looking. Lady Octavia informed me she is related to angels. This worries me deeply that you might have been right about mother. I still hope you are wrong.

Of our other allies, some such as Brock, Dara, and Panmore are warriors whom seem all good hearted but confuse me regularly with their strange mannerisms. Some such as Gareth and Dagen are thieves whom at times are interested in a higher cause, or at least seem to be. And then there is Ceoneral...

    You would not like Ceoneral.

    Last night Gareth and Ceoneral were taken away to a mutual friend of ours named Hagaar. He is a lich, much like Father Alerik, though Hagaar seems to be entirely unrelated to our beliefs. In fact, Hagaar has abandoned the teachings of undeath almost entirely, seeking to fit in within the living, taking pity on them, much like myself. He is very wise, and I trust him most of all our allies. Even still, being forced to abandon our allies due to circumstance is very troubling, and I can stop the feeling of knowing at least part of it is my own fault.

    Perhaps I'll send another letter about what lead up to these events. But now I wished to let you know that I can sympathize with your actions now, for better or worse. Perhaps one day I shall return home and restore the Blackwell name to one of respect rather than fear. Until that day, however, I sincerely hope that you are dead like how I left you. Otherwise, the ashes of this letter when I burn it will have no way of finding you.



Your daughter,

Vivian

{Adrian}Adrian Thornwood is a strong young man. He's visits often, and always speaks politely. He first started visiting during the Winter Equinox last year. His father, Lord Garrus Thornwood was a landowner from one of the villages nearby, and as such was invited to the Blackwell manor for our gathering. Lord Thornwood and I have spoken on many occasions beforehand, but this was the first time he had brought his son with him.

At first, I was very fond of the young man. Adrian was very formal with all the other guests, mingling with his peers. What impressed me the most, however, was how he approached my daughter. Vivian had grown to view potential suiters as a game more than anything, which was something I didn't discourage. I greatly enjoy seeing my angel enjoy herself when she does so properly. Though it did make her seem almost untouchable by the men who approached her. She would start with a compliment, and then as soon as their guard was down, she'd call attention to their intent of courting her, and they young men would flee in embarrassment. Adrian approached her much like the others, but played the game expertly. As Vivian claimed he was only trying to court her, he merely smiled, chuckled, and claimed "I'd be a fool not to try."

The two bantered back and forth, and before long Garrus and I were speaking of how well our children were getting along. I knew that I would be seeing much more of Adrian from that night onward. And indeed, I did. Vivian was called on many nights. I learned that Adrian was fond of archery, and Vivian showed him my grandfather's great bow. Adrian enjoyed hunting, and Vivian enjoyed hearing the stories he'd tell even if she herself had little interest in the hobby herself. And I learned that Adrian was an explorer. And this is where I got concerned.

I began to follow my daughter when Adrian called on her. Adrian was fond of taking her riding. Vivian has no skill with animals, so found herself clinging to Adrian as he guided the reigns. They did this several nights over the course of a month, and I decided to turn my suspicion elsewhere. I paid a visit to Lord Thornwood himself. It was there I learned that my worries were well founded. Garrus Thornwood was a follower of the Light, and had funded several expeditions towards haunted locations to purge the unholy. His son, Adrian, was often part of these, and had records of several aberrations being slain by his bow. I quickly dealt with Garrus before returning towards the Manor, worried for the safety of my daughter.

I was too late. It seemed in my absence that a pack of wolves had attacked the two on one of their rides. My angel hid behind Adrian, who fended off most of them from a distance, though to my horror one latched onto her. Adrian pried off the creature and slew it, but his attention was quickly changed towards the woman he'd be courting. He stared in confusion and horror at Vivian's wound. I remember clearly the fear in his eyes at seeing the blood of the Blackwell family line. And then he shook his head, and placed a hand on Vivian's shoulder. I noticed him casting a spell, and I clearly remember the cries of pain that Vivian shouted afterwards. I stood by no longer, assuming my true form from the one I had followed them with, and approached Adrian with my blade brandished.

The young man tried to defend his actions. He claimed he was trying to heal her wounds. But I would not listen to the cries of a boy who had harmed my own flesh and blood. I don't recall how the boy got away. But I did not care to follow. He had no home to return to, and he had learned to fear me and my family name. I knelt back down by my daughter and healed her wounds. She looked at me, crying, and I spoke to her.

"Forget about that boy. Forget everything that happened. You are safe."

She nodded, slowly, as the tears quickly went away. Vivian is a very obedient child. I could not ask to be blessed with a purer angel to inherit the family. But she would not do so with a Light Cultist, and not one who would seek to destroy the blessings of our family.