Yeah, Olan, wouldn't want to push it too fast.

Also, YAY RAVEN! He is going to have quite a bit hitting him at once.

I will only wear a Team Davena shirt, but I'm on board

Re: Morgana: ah! Jeez! Where did you come from?! Nice mask.

"Hey, Mistress, maybe don't go near the cat. He's not good with necromancers."

Olan had told me a little of Davena's story, as she likely would have shared a bit of it with Kith, and while he had mentioned that her upbringing reflected a lot of what Kith's fate had come to be, I couldn't help but to align it more with Tara's childhood and all that had happened to her. This, of course, led to a lot of my own personal brainwashing to D's side haha everyone just being a product of their circumstances, and taking slightly different paths that drastically altered who they became.

Complex stuff.

Davey's pretty cool, I think you all need to give her a chance.

How happy I am that you took her on

Flipping back and forth between that, and writing Tara/Tara's death in Little Kithran was . . . really rough. I spent a lot of time petting dogs to get through that.

To reiterate though, and maybe this is more a reflection on my weird self, it was still fun and interesting to write. Emotionally destructive, for sure, but an interesting challenge to try to get into the psyche of someone losing control.

AND LOOK, all you have to do is throw a net over Kith and just get her like, all of the therapy. Bing bang boom.

Despite sobbing just a little bit on the bus a minute ago, and hating myself just a little bit more for *gestures to betraying everyone* it's been a sincere pleasure for me to write and play with you all on this jovial little adventure as well!

Olan and I have had several conversations along these lines, like "oh yeah, this is going to rip our hearts out and be teeerrrriiibbllllllle . . . But . . . We're doing this for fun?"

I, breebles, think and am rooting for you guys to survive, but no matter what happens, to me a fun and interesting story is one that has the ability to futz with your emotions. This one has truly done that for me--granted my experience has been a little different than all of yours, but I hope you all feel the same way too.

tl;dr I like you guys a LOT, and I hope that despite the ish, you've gotten as much enjoyment out of this sex ghoul/necro slitch game as I have.

And thank you Olan for providing us with such as unique, heartbreaking, and (for me at least ) incredibly fun experience.

Except for the Mistress lulz

I also made a Kithy-side post that'll be at the very bottom of the previous page and . . . Yeah. That's all. Good morning.

Kithran lay there on the odd piece of furniture, basking both in the warmth and haze brought on by that sweet, spicy liquid in the goblet Davena had offered her before the ceremony, as well as in the afterglow of the priestess’ own attentions. Her breath begins to come back to her and she smiles; it was completed. Finally. Davena would be so happy.

She swings her feet down and sits up, her smile fading as she begins to take in the scene around her. The devout are fighting each other? That is not right. She shakes her head at the chaos, but it remains and she feels her fist tighten around something in her hand. Looking down in her slowly fading haze, at the familiar, intricate hilt, she wonders when she had drawn her new weapon, but the thought is ignored as she realizes the fight before her. Davena is there, uncharacteristically disheveled and fighting . . . Aranwen?

No. Aranwen was dead.

Kithran looks around and there is a Ch’dau, a Gib, a Cedric . . . but they were all dead.

She shakes her head again and rubs her eyes. It is a betrayal. They were being betrayed. There were many powerful who worshipped the Devourer, who wandered these halls, none so powerful as the high priestess herself, of course, but powerful enough to have created these replicas of her family. Anger and humor wells in her heart at their ridiculous ploy, and rages as their fake Kazari strikes Davena down.

Kithran had lost everyone she had loved over and over and over again throughout her life, she would not let these monsters and their disgusting replications of her family do it to her again.

With the cat creature’s attention on Davena, Kithran found her opening. His falcata raised up above his head, Kith lunges. The longer blade was still awkward in the hands of one used to much smaller weapons, but she had been practicing, and her aim now was true. The blade sunk easily into his gut, and she met his eyes as he realized he had been run through.

A playful grin touches the corner of her mouth, one the real Ch’dau would have been well acquainted with, “Mistress,” she calls over her shoulder, “you would let these imposters give you such trouble?” She shakes her head, the grin widening, “Tsk tsk tsk, well we can’t have that.” She rips the lovely blade from the creature’s belly, and swipes the dagger out of its sheath at his side as he slumps before her, “I believe this is mine, thank you.” She flips it once, the Sylvari words “Debts Paid” gleaming on the blade as she catches it and tucks it into her scabbard's belt. “See Mistress? Not much to it.”

Kithran then notices the weak, fake bladesinger and laughs, pointing her bloodied blade at it, “That one doesn’t even have a bladesinger’s sword!” She scoffs and turns back to Davena, finally and truly taking in her condition. She drops to her knees beside her and wishes she knew just one healing chant for the priestess. The thief quickly wipes the gift the priestess had given her clean of blood before resheathing it and taking the blonde woman’s face into her hands. Pressing her forehead to hers, she whispers, “You have won today, Mistress. Despite this madness,” Kithran takes the priestess’ bloodied hand in hers and places it on her stomach, “You have won. Come now,” she lowers her arm under Davena’s shoulders and helps her to her feet, “let’s be free of this place.”

And without another look at the chaos behind her, Kithran helps Davena away from the fight.

The knife is withdrawn - this time, thankfully, without the twist. Kith can feel her eyes roll back in her head, but something is denying her the solace of unconsciousness. Davena's expression is sorrowful. "No, child... you may not faint," she states. "I am so very sorry, but you need this pain to help you truly learn your lesson this time."

The knife is wiped clean, then sheathed.  Davena's eyes are almost pleading. "Darling… please.”

Please stop calling me that, she cries silently to herself, as Tara grins at her in the streets of Calestra.

“Let go of your stubbornness and learn." Davena then forces two fingers into each wound, twisting and tearing the flesh inside, causing blinding waves of pain to rack Kithran's body on and on and on...

*    *    *

At some point, Davena does allow Kithran to lapse into blissful unconsciousness; when she awakens next, the rogue finds herself stiff, still unable to move... but the pain is gone. Both wounds in her abdomen are erased as if they never existed, as are almost all of her bruises. 

Davena smiles warmly. "Ah, you are awake, darling. That is good. I wanted you to enjoy this next part." She indicates the still kneeling form of Brother Hagan with a gesture. 

"Your disobedience had to be dealt with severely, as you can surely understand... but you, at least, have unique circumstances to help explain your rebellion," she explains to Kith. "Hagan here is an ordained priest of the Dark Lord, who has himself acted as a conduit for the Devourer's awful glory. And yet, he allowed mere pleasures of the flesh to cloud his judgment, to bring harm to the chosen anchor. His punishment must of course be much more severe."

And with that, Hagan is subjected to some of the most horrific torture that Kithran could have ever imagined - and then some; it would seem that if Davena considered any sort of mercy for the big man, she decided against it. As opposed to the sorrow with which Davena punished Kith, she seems to treat Hagan with a more matter-of-fact - even angry - manner. 

Many places on the man's body are blistered open and weeping from Davena's stone implement. He is covered with cuts, has shattered fingers and toes, part of his abdomen has been completely opened up to expose the organs inside. The big man weeps, moans, soils himself, begs again and again for death... but Davena is not apparently inclined to grant it just yet. 

Kithran watches, enthralled, grateful that the lack of mercy Davena had shown during her own punishment seemed to be a trait of the D’hurgen priestess’ devotion to her lord, rather than an exception made to the sly thief herself. It is a work of art, the horror she is capable of bestowing upon the human body, and a pleasure to watch those once lecherous eyes screaming in terror.

Eventually, the paralysis wears off, and Kith is able to move again. She sits up and stretches her sore, yet pleasantly healed body, and Davena notices. "Darling," Kithran looks up at the woman as she speaks softly to her, and it sounds like the comforting, cheerful voice of someone she had lost so long ago, "this wicked man caused you terrible pain, did he not?"

The thief looks over to the man covered in blood and sneers, feeling no pity for what had been done to him, still infuriated at the punishment he had wrought upon her when he had called her escape out to the priestess. She looks back up to Davena sternly and nods.

The priestess holds her bloody knife up, then carefully grasps it by the blade and extends the handle to the naked rogue. "I think that it is only fitting for you to be the one to end his miserable life," she states. "Feel free to inflict as much misery as your heart requires."

Kithran’s eyebrows raise at the offer, and she gingerly pushes herself back up to her feet. It feels strange to stand again without the urge or intention to flee. She looks from Davena to the blade, then back up to Tara, and back to the blade once more before grasping the handle and making her way to the splayed man.

With whatever was left in him he pleaded with her, begging for death or life, or some sweet form of release from the pain, but she slowly sinks the blade into one of his lecherous eyes and rattles it around a little before ripping it out of its socket. Though he is in her face, his screams do not sway or even register with her as she moves into view of his second eye and grins, then does the same to that one as well.

She lets him writhe for a moment and she basks in this punishment the priestess has allowed her to bestow, before in one swift movement, as she had done to her enemies thousands of times before, she plunges the blade up into his throat where his neck and his jawline meet, then drives the blade down, splitting the neck open and allowing the blood to pour freely from his body.

I am here.

She watches him die, and turns back to Tara who looks back at her proudly, and she stumbles back over to Davena. She lets the blade drop from her bloody fingers and nearly falls into the priestess as she embraces the woman, burying her face into her neck and sobbing with relief

Rer . . . I'm going to be crying as I head into this brewery. Ah, man, with everything that happened to Kith BTS, and everything in KCandK, jeez, this is so heartbreaking. I'm so sorry.

I was truly dreading this too.

Kithran's not here right now, so I'll be giving out the hugs for Ara tonight. Uuuuggh. 

Here, have some of this rum, I found it on a cat in loincloth.

Olan, why would you do that to Ara?

EDIT: Really wishing I could get my Kith-side post up for you all, but IRL is calling me away for most of the night. Will try to get that posted for you ASAP though.

Mistress, am I grounded? *whisper whisper whisper* She says I'm not grounded.

I've also taken all of your Kraken rum *glug glug glug*

Sorry, slicing the Mistress is strictly forbidden.

4. Kith is . . . yeah. I'm sorry.
5. You guys hit Davey pretty bad already, let's just call it. You go your way, we and my dope new sword will go ours.

Not that my character, Kithran Aldeath aka Kithran Ikhari aka Kith Cat Bar aka Kith aka Kithy aka Little Kitten aka #1 Kibibi aka heart eyes McGee doesn't just loooooooooove lounging around all day, buuuuuuuut . . . I mean . . . how's work coming along great and powerful and generous and kind DM?

I was a hardened 9 year old. Spent nearly 45 minutes in the clink!

Self-love and care is very important and sometimes difficult to come by, so a little narcissism here and there isn't bad!

P.S. that troublemaker may also have been a little klepto until she was 9 and her mom found a Pocahontas pog she had tried to steal, took her back to the store and had the manager talk to her, then drove her to the PRISON, to walk through it and have a warden talk to her about stealing and scare the bejeebus out of her.

Moms, you know how they are.

But only because of my unbridled . . . 

RE: Clive Owen as Gib - wow, I always think of him as more husky, but paladins I always imagine as Dwarves by default lol so having CO in my head as Gib would help. My Gib-dar is way off.

RE: Cedric: I want to hug that child and let him know everything will be okay, so he's perfect.

RE: Hobbitses: 

RE: Five-fingers discount: Hmmm, I wasn't planning on her going into another store, buuuuut now that you mention it . . . .

ALSO, Eol, can't forget who we got for very little Kith! She's a pretty difficult get since we need a time machine, but she's perfect for the role . . . .

SURPRISE, IT ME

In an hour long phone meeting about sandwiches . . . BUT AFTER THAT, I'll be able to work on that post a little more and shoot it over to your Rer! 

Stabby face is on point, but the shit-eating grin is equally important, and she has that down as well.

I'll have my people call her people and see if we can sign her for the part.