Since before the corona times, my tabletop group has been playing a 13th Age campaign. We’re using City in Mist style character sheets, WaRP System resolution (2d6 with twists), and modules kitbashed from D&D and our GM’s imagination. It’s light roleplay, high immersion (in the sense of being ecologically self-consistent), and the hit points don’t matter.

By now some Actions have had Consequences, and it’s possible that our Inquisitors have saved a city by dooming the nation. (But to be fair, Krievan entered that contract of her own free will.) Here’s a cast list:

  • Balakog, Orcish Bard and Orc Lord fanboy, but well-meaning. Wields a drum with stoneshaping powers.
    In our coffee shop AU, he’d be the barista who works at Starbucks across the street.

  • Beleth, Tiefling Sorceror and divination expert. Once sought any means to disable their own magical potential.
    The hypercompetent barista, who doesn’t drink coffee.

  • Idyll (yours truly), Human Witch and potions expert. Murdered her own coven for serious crimes.
    The enthusiastic barista with a list of drink-boost experiments, and suggestions for the regulars.

  • Krievan, Tiefling Paladin and burnt-out reformer. Our beloved leader; a heavy drinker.
    The manager freshly promoted to corporate, who is definitely too busy to answer the phone.

  • Quill, Tabaxi Alchemist and solar daguerrotypist, except the camera incinerates things.

  • Sir Justin, Human Knight and monster-hunting scion. Haunted by own psychic powers.
    The handsome but functionally powerless assistant manager.

  • Slobberchomps, Tressym Rogue who’s seen things. Is a cat, in every world.

Splinter Kingdom is the name of the coffee shop in the Avernus district, on a street with cool gothic architecture. Alternatively:

Around us a hundred kingdoms have come and gone, each claiming to be the true heir to the glory of a long-lost Empire. An Empire we first defined ourselves by rejecting.

On the borders of the Splinter Kingdom, Inquisitorial Squads enforce the prohibition on magic. In a region still haunted by screaming ghosts, nightmarish living dungeons, hostile silences, mushroom monstrosities, twisted terrain, and the remnants of feral wards, the temptation to employ arcane protections is always high. But magic always turns on you…

❄​☠⚗​♝

As the GM hinted we’d be having a particularly climactic session (after a couple weeks off), I decided to paint one of my latest fortnightly druid doodles.
In hindsight - probably don’t start with your darkest black, unless the background is really that uniformly bright.
Then I looked up mantling raptors, and surprise character lighting refs which got me excited.

At some point the top layer of paint got a 50% Dissolve blend to add grain.
Here’s that gulf once you realize the contrast has gone while you worked focal points, and decide to go back over the rest of it with a layer of black ink.
Ultimately put the Color (and not the value) of the details on top again via blend mode.

Scene: The Diabolist’s daughter makes her entrance.

Context: Idyll got waylaid in hell by the evil witches she killed. Oops. They separated her from the group via bike race through a forest, and then fought over terms of a one-sided contract. On the other hand, she got to see her girlfriend out of it.


Rahel appears on the scene of battle. She wears a spiked leather jacket and a laurel crown. Her skin is darkest red, like the clouds at dawn, carrying the sun in her eyes.

IDYLL: I’ve missed you so.

RAHEL: And I, you. Now, how would you like me to save you?

Her black lips curve in a smile. My gaze catches on pearly fangs.

IDYLL: God, don’t play games with me.

RAHEL: You play of your own free will! All is as I promised you.

IDYLL: I don’t want it anymore. You’ve seen that I care for them.

RAHEL: So do I.

IDYLL: They’re not like fruit, ripening on the vine.

RAHEL: Of course they are. You can’t choose whether that’s true. Someone… will pick them.

IDYLL: They will be blessed by their own hand. As I was by freeing myself, in your name. You cannot make me hurt them.

The sense of ease around Rahel drops. Her brilliant hatred remains.

RAHEL: You’ve forgiven their crimes?

I touch the space behind her jaw, drawing her close.

IYDLL: I understand their reasons. Their ideals. I don’t disagree.

RAHEL: Heh. You liar. I think you know what they each… shall reap. You will agree, it is fair.

Yes.

RAHEL: Yet, in this matter, I care only for your desires. Therefore, if I choose to act, I will act- in- accordance-

Rahel punctuates each word with a kiss. My lips welcome hers.

RAHEL: -with your true wish.


Scene: The party has defeated their big bad, who was a guise of the Diabolist.

Context: Idyll picked up a sword to resolve an argument, because it was a plot sword that would kill the bearer. Then it un-killed her. Now she has wings that are very fun to draw. Also, the worthless pity of real angels.


Idyll relaxes against a tree on a hill, shading Rahel with her wings. Rahel licks the juice of a strawberry off her claws.

RAHEL: When were you going to tell me about your new death drive, anyway? I swear - Mother will kill you next time, you know-

IDYLL: Well, I’m glad you two are speaking again. Did she leave out the part where the cat got her killed?

RAHEL: What?

IDYLL: Slobberchomps landed squarely on her head- that was on fire, mind you- straight out of a vent. Then Beleth stabbed her with my sword. It was incredibly noble.

Rahel laughs abruptly.

RAHEL: Oh, good. Your friends, is that it? You’ve gotten to thinking they’d be better without you?

IDYLL: No, that’s… not true.

RAHEL: Why do you pretend to care for your champion, and her weakness? The people of your world, who fear us?

Idyll fans out her feathers. Rahel reaches for one of the primaries, with sticky fingers. The eye nearest to it glares at her. She backs off.

IDYLL: Because we don’t want to be alone in the world, you asshole. Look at that spire, on the palace. I’d put apprentices in there. They’d learn what justice means.

RAHEL: Are you saying that you’d wish to start an occult order in the government? Alchemists and magi, as security advisors?

RAHEL: What a lovely intelligence service, ripe with secrets they’d murder to keep. What a beautiful disaster.

Rahel pivots Idyll's luminous gaze toward herself, grasping by the chin. Idyll's wings open their eyes, one at a time, to enjoy Rahel's excitement from every possible angle.

IDYLL: Have a little faith. I would still be there, wouldn’t I?

RAHEL: I’d try to get you away.

IDYLL: All of that power, and you wouldn’t tempt me to use it?

RAHEL: Then, you must be suggesting a new game. Tell me more.


☀️

Nobody in our position can afford to treat the damned fairly. They might appreciate the cruelty of it. I don’t really think our conscripts will survive.

Any god is only a monster that we worship, and transform thus. It makes us more than our errors, and mortal appetites.

I love my liege, and my god. So I grieve for my dead, and I laugh for my sins. For their cause - for what is just - I rebel! As we all have done.

But in the end, my faith cannot save me.

are you protecting yours from damnation, then? will they protect you, even if you are broken, and your heart is black? trust in your strength, not your power. understand the cost of your sacrifice.

there will never be another love equal to ours. in the painful gap between us - beneath the faces we show to each other, - there is a goddess born of contradiction, whose sight bears no injustice, who is fit to worship.

but any god that would punish you is weak, fearing to lose their grasp. this means they are unworthy. I learned this one from you.

come back to me alive.