Animancer https://animancer.com RPG Content with Soul Thu, 18 Aug 2022 16:22:02 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.0.2 https://i0.wp.com/animancer.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/cropped-Animancer-Logo-Blue-1.png?fit=32%2C32&ssl=1 Animancer https://animancer.com 32 32 181797063 From the Desk of the Animancer, August 18th 2022: Vaz’kin’rai Now Available on Fantasy Grounds! https://animancer.com/news/from-the-desk-of-the-animancer-august-18th-2022-vazkinrai-now-available-on-fantasy-grounds/ https://animancer.com/news/from-the-desk-of-the-animancer-august-18th-2022-vazkinrai-now-available-on-fantasy-grounds/#respond Thu, 18 Aug 2022 16:21:36 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1693 Hi folks! Been a while since last we spoke, and I’m coming to you today with a short update regarding VTT support for the Vaz’kin’rai suite (I’m not sure if suite’s the best word. Line? Trio? Family? Slate? You know what I mean.) – they’re all available for Fantasy Grounds! The eagle-eyed among you may …

From the Desk of the Animancer, August 18th 2022: Vaz’kin’rai Now Available on Fantasy Grounds! Read More »

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Hi folks!

Been a while since last we spoke, and I’m coming to you today with a short update regarding VTT support for the Vaz’kin’rai suite (I’m not sure if suite’s the best word. Line? Trio? Family? Slate? You know what I mean.) – they’re all available for Fantasy Grounds! The eagle-eyed among you may have noticed this has been the case for some time, I’ve just had other things getting in the way of letting folks know.

If you’ve picked up the Fantasy Grounds conversion of Corwyn, you’ll already have an idea of what’s in store for you, but here’s the headline features!

Vaz’kin’rai on Fantasy Grounds

An image of a large stone door in a cave. Three white salamanders stand in front of it. Text reads 'Vaz'kin'rai'. The Animancer logo, an icon signifying 5th Edition compatibility, and a sigil of the door are featured in the lower left.

The core adventure’s fully converted for use with Fantasy Grounds and to take advantage of its best features. This means:

  • The adventure text is separated into hyperlinked, discrete chunks so you can grab the relevant information quickly and easily.
  • The adventure map is configured with Fantasy Grounds’ Line of Sight system.
  • All five premade characters are ready to go out of the box.
  • All creatures in the adventure are setup with tokens and statblocks so they can slot right in to encounters.
  • The adventure art is all available as shareable handouts for your players.

You can pick up the adventure on the Smiteworks store or on Steam, or as part of the Deluxe bundle on the Smiteworks store or Steam.

Enchiridion: Vaz’kin’rai on Fantasy Grounds

A grey background with a sigil of the Vaz'kin'rai door. Text reads 'Enchiridion: Vaz'kin'rai'. Symbols in the lower left show the Animancer logo and a symbol denoting D&D 5E compatibility.

The Enchiridion is also fully converted and ready to roll for your Fantsy Grounds game, meaning:

  • The lineage options, background, feats, and monk subclass are set up to function with the Fantasy Grounds character wizard.
  • All the contents of the Silver Staff Vaults are ready to drag-and-drop onto your characters and treasure parcels.
  • There are two tokens, one for salari and one for vor’tai characters included so you can visually represent your funky new PCs.

You can grab your Enchiridion on the Smiteworks store or on Steam, or as part of the Deluxe bundle on the Smiteworks store or Steam.

Other VTTs

This conversion means you can get a top-notch experience using the Vaz’kin’rai content on Fantasy Grounds, but don’t forget that you can do the same on Foundry and Roll20!

Fantasy Grounds rounds out our planned stable of VTT conversions for Vaz’kin’rai, so any further development cycles on Vaz’kin’rai will be spent improving and maintaining the core texts and these three conversions. If there’s a format you’d really love to see, you can of course get in touch and let us know (no promises!), and otherwise the best place to keep up to date on this stuff is through our mailing list below.

Thanks for reading, and we hope you’ll put these conversions to good use in your Fantasy Grounds campaigns!

Join our Mailing List

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https://animancer.com/news/from-the-desk-of-the-animancer-august-18th-2022-vazkinrai-now-available-on-fantasy-grounds/feed/ 0 1693
End Credits Scene: Skellos Taikim [S1E95] https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-skellos-taikim-s1e95/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-skellos-taikim-s1e95/#respond Thu, 28 Jul 2022 11:20:37 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1686 “When gold scales return,And rule the palace of glass,Peace will reign, once more.” — The Prophecy of the Golden Dragonborn Lord Markex, without saying a word, descended the steps before his throne, his corded muscles rippling with every movement, armour glinting, reflecting the sunbeams that shimmered through the glass walls of the palace. Glass that …

End Credits Scene: Skellos Taikim [S1E95] Read More »

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“When gold scales return,
And rule the palace of glass,
Peace will reign, once more.”

— The Prophecy of the Golden Dragonborn

Lord Markex, without saying a word, descended the steps before his throne, his corded muscles rippling with every movement, armour glinting, reflecting the sunbeams that shimmered through the glass walls of the palace. Glass that in days past had hues of green, blue, red. Glass that should now have a golden sheen. Glass that was without hint of colour.

“This way, my lord. Lady Markex is within the hatchery.”

Tygon gave a curt nod, striding ahead of the servant.

“My lord, I should temper your expectations before entering. The Lady Markex sent me without glimpsing the child, but please sire, remember how long it has been since Scale has seen any of the Gild. The hatchling has Markex blood regardless of scale. They will still be a worthy heir.”

The Scalelord paused his stride for the briefest of moments, before continuing. The pair strode on through the palace’s halls, the servant on the verge of jogging to keep up with Tygon’s stride. Other members of the palace retinue passed them, bowing and curtsying to the king. Tygon took no notice. As the pair came to a small door, the servant placed one hand upon the Scalelord’s chest.

“My lord, please. Do not hold anything against the hatchling. It’s been centuries since the last.”

Icy blue eyes met the servant’s, below bronze scales.

“You need not remind me.”

Tygon pushed the servant’s hand from his chest, firmly, but not forcefully. He was a strong man, and a strong leader, but he knew the servant’s sentiment was meant well. Pushing the oaken door, he bent to enter the hatchery.

“My love. I thought you might have kept me waiting all day.”

The voice had a feminine lilt, but was still harsh to the ear. Resting in a seat, holding a bundle of cloths, Tygon met the gaze of the Lady Markex.

“Sora. You know I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That I do. Come here. You’ve someone to meet.”

Tygon inhaled slowly, then exhaled, taking three slow paces to stand next to Sora. He took the bundle of cloths from her, peering down at the tiny form within.

“Our son.”

“Our son.”

“I’m sorry. I know you hoped it would be him.”

Tygon sighed. “It wasn’t hope, Sora. It was something more. I’ve always known we had the Gild within us, I feel it in my bones. I was so certain…”

“You Markex and your prophecies. The Gild means nothing, Tygon. No more than our scales dictate who we are. You need to put this out of your head – we have a son now. A son that doesn’t deserve to grow up with a father who expects something he can never give.”

The Scalelord folded back the cloths, getting a better look at the ebon hatchling within.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“Every one of you Markex hopes to be the one to return the Gild to Scale, and no Markex has done it. And yet, the Markex rule Scale. You rule Scale – as our son will when we pass. And it isn’t the Gild that ensures that.”

Tygon Markex’s gaze remained firmly fixed on the bundle of cloths, his blue eyes locked with his son’s.

“One day, he will be great,” the Scalelord said after some time.

“He will. And he’ll need a name worthy of that greatness.”

The pair were silent for a moment, until Tygon wrested his gaze away from the infant’s.

“Valasar. Valasar Markex.”


“People of Scale!”

Tygon’s voice rang out over the streets of Karan Taul, loud and clear. Valasar was fidgeting with his collar.

“Stop it,” hissed Sora, slapping the boy lightly on the wrist before turning back to face the gathered crowds, a pleasant, empty smile on her face. “Sit up straight, everyone’s watching,” she whispered out the corner of her mouth.

“No they’re not,” whispered Valasar. “They’re all watching Dad anyway.”

“Another year, and another Kal’dai celebration is upon us.”

“They are, you know,” whispered Sora. “There’s a lot of people very interested in the crown prince.”

Valasar scowled, and straightened his back.

“I can’t breathe in this collar.”

“Yes you can, stop being dramatic.”

“These seats are so uncomfortable.”

“Everyone has to do uncomfortable things now and then.”

“I’m thirsty.”

“Well sit still and you won’t waste all your energy. You can have something to drink soon.”

“I want to have wine.”

“You can’t have wine.”

“Why not?”

“You’re too young for wine.”

“Raikos gets to have wine.”

“Raikos isn’t a prince though, is he?”

“No but I’m already five and he’s only four and four months.”

“That’s between Raikos and his father. You’re not allowed any wine.”

“It’s because my scales aren’t the right colour.”

Sora’s queenly expression broke, and she turned to her son, concern and confusion writ on her face. “What?”

“Raikos gets to have wine because his scales are red and Clan Keldrath have red scales doesn’t he. I don’t match and that’s why you won’t give me wine.”

“That has nothing to do with it. Nobody in Clan Markex has golden scales.”

“But my scales don’t match your scales or Dad’s scales either.”

“Valasar, the scales have nothing to do with it. You’re five years old, that’s why you’re not allowed wine.”

“But if I had golden scales you and Dad would love me more and you’d let me have wine.”

Sora leaned down to be level with her son, disregarding her presentation before the citizenry momentarily. “Where did you get that idea?”

“I heard Dad talking to Uncle Saris and he said he wished my scales were golden.”

Sora flashed a momentary glare at her husband, still speaking before the enraptured crowd. “You must have misheard him.”

“No he was talking about me and he said he ‘wished I had the Gild’. That means he wishes I had golden scales.”

“He was probably talking about the mining guilds.”

Valasar furrowed his brow. “But it’s true though, isn’t it? He does wish I had golden scales. I can tell.”

Sora looked the boy in his wide eyes and took one of his hands in hers. “That’s not true. Your father and I love you more than anything in the world, alright? And you know that. The scales don’t matter, not one bit. And even if they did, look how impressive yours are. How rich and deep the colour is, how shiny they are, the way they make your eyes gleam. So many people would love to have scales like yours. You should be proud of them.”

The boy looked at his hand in his mother’s, then up to her face, trying not to smile. “You really think so?”


The door to the courtyard opened, and Valasar swiftly stood to his feet. In the doorway, Tygon narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not ready.”

Valasar’s eyes went wide. “I…I don’t know how to put the breastplate on myself.”

Tygon crossed to the far end of the courtyard and bent forward to retrieve two of the dull blades on the rack. “Too much time out with your friends and not enough time with your tutors, then. A king ought to know how to don his own armour.”

The boy, now with eight summers under his belt, looked dejected. “Will you help me?”

Tygon shook his head and tossed one of the blades to his son. “An enemy isn’t going to help you protect yourself.”

“…But we’re not enemies.”

“Right now we are,” said Tygon, pacing into the centre of the sparring ring, Valasar following without thinking. “You always have to be prepared,” he said, then launched forward with an overhead strike. Valasar tumbled to the floor, narrowly avoiding the blow, and scrambled back to his feet.

“Please, Dad, it’s so sore without armour.”

Tygon shrugged. “All the more reason for you to learn how to fasten it yourself.” He struck again, but this time the boy parried. His countenance was focused.

“Alright, then.”

The clash of steel rang across the courtyard, followed by a yelp.

“And that’d be you dead.”

Valasar rubbed his temple. “Please, Dad, I just need help fastening the side straps, I can’t reach them.”

Tygon shook his head. “You’ll have to go without, then. A king can’t rely on anyone but himself.”

Another flurry of strikes and the pair recoiled, Valasar panting. “I don’t understand, all my friends are still using wooden swords. Raikos uses steel but he always gets armour. Why do we have to do it like this?”

“I need you to be better than them,” snarled Tygon as he lunged forward. Valasar tumbled forward into a roll, emerging on the other side of his father.

“But I am better!”

The ring of steel on glass filled the air as Valasar’s practice blade connected with his father’s backplate.

“See? That’d be you dead!”

Tygon turned to face the boy, nodding sagely. The boy lowered his weapon, then Tygon tapped his glass chestplate. “Except I have armour,” he said, then a lightning-quick strike knocked Valasar to the ground, flat on his back.

Tygon knelt down next to his son, the boy groaning.

“You’ve still got a lot to learn.”


The sound of feasting and merriment echoed around the great hall, the crown prince and his friends laughing and joking at the far end of one table while the other nobles enjoyed themselves throughout the rest of the hall.

“And so then,” began Raikos Keldrath, heir-apparent to Keld Rock seated next to Valasar, “he looks at me and—”

The doors to the hall opened loudly and the chatter died to a lull as the herald scuttled forth. “The delegation of Clan Rakesh, if it pleases his Grace.”

Tygon nodded and he and Sora rose and proceeded forward towards the doors as a number of ebon-scaled Ka’man nobles entered the hall. Tygon and Sora busied themselves greeting the foremost among the group, but standing shyly among them, a young val caught the prince’s eyes. Elegant half-moon spectacles framed striking eyes, and she wore a long dress of flowing black fabric, set with beads of metallic dragonglass which glittered like stars.

Raikos looked from Valasar to Garn Vexir, the lanky green vak seated opposite, and the two began to grin, watching as the prince seemed to take no notice of them. Across the room, Valasar’s eyes met with the val’s, who hurriedly looked away and down to her feet before the delegation were seated.

Garn and Raikos stared at Valasar, grinning expectantly. The prince came back down to earth and looked from Raikos to Garn.

“What?”

Garn flashed his brow at Raikos, but said nothing.

“Someone catch your eye?” asked Raikos, trying not to smile as he busied himself with the kalakar haunch on his plate.

“What? No…”

“You met her before?” asked Garn, taking a sip of wine from his glass.

Valasar blushed, and said nothing.

“That one’s…Illia? Ie…Ielar?” asked Raikos.

“Yeah, she’s Ielar,” said Garn. “Illia’s the mother.”

“Trust you to know,” said Raikos. Garn shrugged and reached for more food from further up the table.

Raikos turned back to Valasar. “You gonna talk to her?

Valasar looked embarrassed. “What, me? No…”

“Why not?” asked Garn.

“Well, I mean, I…she wouldn’t want anything to do with me…”

Garn and Raikos looked at each other and laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Raikos, trying his best to stifle his laughter.

Valasar chanced a look over towards where Ielar had been, saw her seated towards the end of another table. Their eyes met again and both hurriedly looked away. Raikos and Garn erupted into laughter again.

“What?!”

Raikos composed himself, as did Garn. He started speaking, and Garn fell back into a fit of giggles. “You know you’re the crown prince, right?”

Valasar looked from one to the other.

“Like, you know you’re going to be Scalelord one day, don’t you?” said Garn.

“Well, I, yeah, I mean…”

Everyone wants something to do with you, Valasar,” said Raikos. “It’s as if you’re the only person who hasn’t noticed you’ll be the most powerful vak in the country one day.”

Garn and Raikos started laughing again. Valasar’s expression was stony.

The pair gradually calmed down, then noticed the prince’s face.

“You alright?” asked Garn.

Valasar nodded. “Yeah. I’m just…I’m gonna get some air,” he said, standing up and leaving the hall. Garn and Raikos looked at one another and shrugged.

The young prince headed outside to the gardens, took a seat on a bench and looked out onto the Glass Bay. The sea was like it’s namesake, flat as a sheet and pristine, a wide expanse of water, perfectly still. He looked out over the shimmering glass roofs of Karan Taul, and his head swam thinking about the road ahead of him. Time passed, he wasn’t sure how long, and he stood and turned to leave.

Ielar stood in the doorway and their eyes met. Hers went wide.

“Oh!”

“Oh!”

“Sorry, I…” Ielar mustered a haphazard curtsy, still surprised.

“No, it’s alright, I was just…”

“…”

“Hello.”

“Hello! Ah, uh, hello.”

“…”

“My name’s Ielar.”

“I’m Valasar.”

“Ah, yes, I…I know who you are.”

“Oh.”

“…”

“…”

“Hello!”


Valasar eased the book shut, then stood and stretched. His golden glassmail shimmered as he did so, and he remarked to himself how comfortable he was in it now. The Golden Claw’s traditional regalia had chafed and weighed on him when he first was assigned the title, but it had become like a second skin in the year or so since. He replaced the book on the shelf it had come from. If he was quick, he’d be able to get a quick sparring session in with Sir Kliric before his watch began. His bladework was the equal of vak many years his senior at this point, and he was hopeful his father would notice this in their next bout.

He descended the stairs from the study quickly, and as he did so heard voices drifting out into the landing below. He could recognise them as belonging to his mother and father, but the words decayed in the air and he couldn’t decipher their meaning.

“Two?”

“I’m as surprised as you are.”

Alighting from the stairs, Valasar turned his head and saw them in their quarters, the door left ajar. They were studying…something, but he couldn’t make out what.

“We’ll have to tell Valasar, this will be a big change for him.”

Valasar watched as his father took a pace back, revealing the target of their attention.

His heart plummeted and his eyes went wide in shock as he saw his mother cradling two eggs, the sunlight streaming through the window reflecting off their deep golden shells.

They hadn’t noticed him, and in a panic he fled quickly down the stairs, his head spinning.

Eggs. Golden eggs. He had to steady himself on the banister, took slow, deep breaths. He looked at his gauntleted hand, looked at the deep ebon scales covered by the gold-tinted glass. Tears streamed down his face before he was even aware they’d begun to flow.

Thousands of hours of princely education flashed through his memory, the immensity of the work he’d done to prepare himself for the throne that it was his duty to assume. His birthright. A birthright and a duty that would be stripped from him were his parents to bring forth the Gild again.

Hearing footsteps coming from below, he fled to his quarters, sat heavily on his bed, and began to sob.


“What’s the meaning of this?”

Valasar’s expression was grim, his hand quivering on the hilt of his sword. “You’ve left me no choice, father.”

Tygon looked with pity at his son, and shook his head. The other nine Claws stood to attention at the sides of the room, watching the exchange between father and son.

“You told me once that a king can’t rely on anyone other than himself. You told me I needed to be better than everyone else.”

“My son…”

“I’ve spent my life working to prove I am.”

“Valasar, don’t do this.”

“Silence!” The prince’s voice reverberated around the throne room, shaking with emotion. “I won’t let you take everything I’ve worked for away from me,” he said, barely more than a whisper.

“Valasar, what are you talking about?” Tygon descended from the throne until he stood halfway up its stairs.

“I know you don’t believe I’m worthy. I know you’re disappointed by me.” There was venom in the prince’s voice.

“That’s not true…”

“I know you love those eggs more than me. I know I’m a burden, but I won’t be any longer.”

Tygon shook his head slowly. “Please, my son…”

“Valasar, he’s unarmed and unarmoured!” called Arem Ulriss, the Blue Claw.

“I challenge you to Skellos Taikim,” said Valasar, his head bowed and his eyes fixed on his father’s.

“We don’t have to do this,” said Tygon.

“I do,” said Valasar.

Tygon sighed slowly. He regarded his son for a long moment, blinked slowly, then looked down, himself dressed in simple, elegant finery, but without armour or weapon. “This is how you wish to take your crown?”

Valasar set his jaw. “An enemy isn’t going to help you protect yourself.”

Tygon nodded, hearing his words spat back at him. “Very well, then. I accept your challenge.”

“Sire!” barked Kallos Orn, the Silver Claw.

“Quiet, Kallos. My son has decided this is to be the way of it.”

“But, sire!”

Tygon waved a hand towards Kallos, silencing him, then turned to Valasar. He paused, looked up once towards the glass ceiling and the night sky outside. “I am ready when you are.”

Valasar drew his blade and darted up the stairs, delivering one quick slash that connected with his father’s arm, blood spilling down it. Tygon grunted, and closed his eyes, standing passively. Valasar took one step back, adopting a ready stance.

“Fight back,” he said, grimacing. Tygon shook his head.

Valasar delivered another slash, more of his father’s blood splashing onto the glass stairs. “Fight back!”

Tygon winced, but did nothing.

Valasar struck again, the Scalelord giving no response. Valasar took one step back. “Hit me!” he roared.

Tygon shook his head.

Valasar’s expression was black. “You must draw blood.”

Tygon nodded, and slowly moved forward to close the gap between father and son. Gently, he reached one hand out, placed it on Valasar’s cheek. Confusion and rage set on the prince’s face.

“Goodbye, my son,” said Tygon. He pressed one claw firmly into Valasar’s cheek, until a trickle of red blood broke between the black scales.

Valasar roared in wordless anger and lashed out, his sword biting into his father’s chest, ending the challenge as swiftly as it had begun.


Valasar approached the door, Garn Vexir and Hath Suros, the Bronze Claw, saluting from their positions at either side of it.

“She’s inside,” said Garn.

Valasar nodded and said nothing, moving past the two guards and entering into the room beyond. At the far end, his mother stood by the expansive window, the great glass panel running floor to ceiling, looking out onto the darkened streets of Karan Taul.

“Where are they, mother?”

Sora turned to face her son. He could see the tears streaming down her face, her eyes red, her expression disgusted. For a moment, he felt a twang of guilt, felt that this was all some terrible dream that he’d awaken from in only a moment.

But he didn’t.

“How could you?” Sora whispered, her voice cracked.

“I did what I had to.”

“That’s not true…”

“Where are the eggs, mother?”

Sora’s expression hardened, something of the warrior she used to be showing through. “Far away from you.”

Valasar closed the distance between them. The heavy glass crown was uncomfortable on him, weighed down on his skull. Sora backed away.

“Stay away from me. You’re no son of mine.”

Valasar stopped mid-step, obeying his mother’s instructions without thinking. “As you wish.”

Sora and Valasar regarded each other in silence, only a few feet separating them physically, but a gulf of miles between them nonetheless.

“You’d better just kill me like your father and be done with it.”

Valasar narrowed his eyes. “…Where are they, mother?”

“I’ve no words for you.”

Valasar stared his mother down, his expression turbulent, before he snapped. “I obeyed the rules!”

“You killed your father!”

“I had to!”

Sora broke down in tears, her chest wracked with sobs. Valasar bristled, fists clenched, before he turned to depart.

“You had better give me answers tomorrow.”

Valasar left, shutting the door on his mother’s tears behind him. He turned to Garn and Hath.

“I want them found. Every available ship, every available vak. See to it those eggs are brought to me.”


There was a soft knock on the door, and Valasar rose. The handle turned gently, and Ielar eased the door open slowly, entering and closing it behind her.

“Ielar…” Valasar crossed quickly to her, reached out a hand towards her shoulder. She recoiled, and he froze. “What’s wrong?”

Ielar looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes watering. “What have you done?”

Valasar’s expression fell. “I…I did what I had to.”

“What you had to?!” Ielar’s expression was a mixture of anger and confusion.

Valasar took a step back, straightened his posture. “It was the only way.”

Ielar shook her head. “No.”

Valasar’s face hardened. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I don’t understand who you are.” She took a step back from him, tears rolling down her face.

“I did what I had to! I’ve spent my whole life training for this! For the throne, for iakim, for all of it!”

“It didn’t have to be this way…”

“Yes, it did! You don’t understand how close it was, how near it came to slipping through my fingers!”

“What are you talking about?! Why would anyone deny you the throne?”

“Because I don’t deserve it!”

“You’re scaring me,” whispered Ielar, as Valasar stalked forward, continuing.

“All my life, I’ve trained for this throne. I did everything my father asked of me, and it was never enough. Never! All the hours of study, all the hours of statecraft, of bladework. He never believed I could be Claw! I worked so hard for his love, his approval, and everything I did only showed me that I wasn’t worthy of it, wasn’t worthy to replace him, because I didn’t have the Gild!”

“The Gild means nothing…”

“It means everything.”

“It’s a story!”

“It’s a prophecy.”

Ielar shook her head and backed towards the door. “I’m leaving.”

Valasar kept pace with her. “Stay.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Stay!”

“And what if I don’t?! What will you do then?! Kill me too? Goodbye, Valasar.”

Ielar turned quickly and fled the room, sobbing as she ran from the palace.


Valasar stood in front of the window, the night wind buffeting him as he looked out through the shattered pane and towards the dark waters below.

“Nobody could have survived such a fall,” said Garn from his position by the king’s shoulder.

Valasar grimaced and knelt down, retrieving a shred of golden fabric caught on the jagged edge of the glass. It smelled like her, like the comfort of his mother’s embrace as a young boy. He clenched it in his fist, the cloth whipping in the wind from the window.

“She’s gone, then.”

Garn was silent for a moment, not sure what to say. The only sound in the room was the howling of the night wind outside, the battering of the stormy rain on the palace.

“I’m sorry,” Garn ventured after a while.

Valasar ground his teeth and said nothing.

There was a knock at the door, and Garn turned to see Hath stood in the open doorway.

“Sire,” said the Surosi.

“What is it, Hath?” Valasar kept his position and gaze at the window.

“Sire, they found the vessel. No sign of any eggs.”

Valasar closed his eyes and leant one fist on the window frame.

“We scuttled the ship. If anything was on board, there’ll be nothing left of it.”

Valasar nodded.

“I…I heard about the Scalemother, sire. My condolences.”

There was no response from the Scalelord. Hath crossed to where Garn stood and the two exchanged a look.

“Leave me,” said Valasar. The two Claws bowed, then turned and left.

Valasar stood in silence for a long time, then yelled and struck the wall with his fist. He felt a crunch, and knew the hand would be swollen by morning.

He kept his gaze fixed on the dark waters below, where his mother had thrown herself to her death to escape him and what he’d become. He tore the glassmail gauntlet from his bruised hand, stared for a long time at the cracked black scales.

“How rich and deep the colour is, how shiny they are, the way they make your eyes gleam. So many people would love to have scales like yours. You should be proud of them.”

In the privacy of his parents’ chambers, a single tear rolled down the king’s cheek. His grip on the shred of cloth loosened slowly, until the storm winds whipped it from his grasp. He watched it fly out into the night, the elegant golden fabric a gradually fading light as it disappeared into the darkness.

“Goodbye, mother.”


“My lord, there’s been a sighting. A phalanx of dragonborn troops were spotted heading north towards Rell. Their leader matched Gaur’s description.”

The Scalelord turned to face the visitor. The setting sun shone through the palace walls, casting his dark scales in prismatic light.

“My lord, what are your orders? Shall I send for the Greenfangs?” inquired the visitor, rather urgently. Valasar paused a moment, as if considering something, before replying calmly.

“The Greenfangs will not be necessary.”

“But, my lord, is it not wise to enact swift retribution? Cut off a dragon’s head, and the body will perish, no?”

“The Greenfangs failed to deliver last I tasked them with removing that head.” The visitor seemed confused.

“Sire, you knew about Gaur? You suspected him of treason?”

Valasar paused, choosing his words carefully, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Gaur was…unexpected. But he is no longer our priority.”

“My lord, I’m afraid I do not follow.”

Valasar began to descend the steps from the throne, making his way towards the door connecting the throne room to the rest of the palace. He continued speaking as he went, “You wouldn’t. It’s simple really, the Legion have defected – gone north to pledge service to another lord. The two that claim to be my clansmen.”

“My liege, surely that is all the more reason to act swiftly? A legion of troops and a seasoned commander to lead them will lend legitimacy to their claim, no?” The visitor scurried after the Lord Markex, trying to keep pace with him as best he could.

“It is of little concern. One must allow their opponents to posture, to cultivate their hubris. When their arrogance has swelled, and they give challenge, then one makes an example of them. This is how the game is played.”

Scale’s king paused at the door, leaving the visitor with one last remark before departing.

“We must let them make the first move.”


Valasar’s head swam, and he fell to his knees under the weight of the strike. He looked up, saw the red vak before him rear up for another blow, the silver trident singing through the air. He tried to lift his blade up for another parry, but the muscles wouldn’t obey. Time slowed.

He looked to his right, his eye meeting with Garn’s, the Green Claw’s eyes wide as he looked on, then looked back to face his brother. For a split-second, he saw the imposing figure of his father, the glass blade he wielded thursting forward towards him, then he blinked and saw the three tines, Narinn’s face a snarl as he stabbed forward.

Valasar dredged his last reserves and reached up with his left hand, feeling the point of the weapon slice into his fingers as they clasped around the central spar of the trident. His muscles burned as he pushed forward, trying to resist with what strength he had left.

The two locked eyes as they struggled for control, and Valasar saw in Narinn’s the stern gaze of his father, the fierce stare his mother used to have when he was punished as a boy, and something else, a focus and hardness that he didn’t recognise.

His arm burned, and he released his grip on his sword, bringing the other up to push back on the weapon, pushing his feet against the ground as best he could to prise the trident away from his chest and himself back to his feet. His face contorted with the effort, and from the corner of his eye he thought he spied two figures amongst the crowd of onlookers – one with the bronze scales and comforting eyes of his mother, her head shrouded in elegant golden fabric that he’d watched whip away into the darkness of a stormy night so many years ago, and one dressed in a long dress of black fabric, set with beads of metallic glass that glittered like stars, a pair of elegant half-moon spectacles framing striking eyes.

His grip weakened, and he felt himself forced to his knees. He turned his head to face them, and heard a singing whistle approaching him.

The pair smiled, and he wasn’t afraid any longer.

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End Credits Scene: Change of Course [S1E94] https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-change-of-course-s1e94/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-change-of-course-s1e94/#respond Mon, 18 Jul 2022 10:02:13 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1681 “Well then, to those no longer with us. To Pimm. To Waylon, to Jenna.” “To Nala.” “Aye. To Nala.” — Overheard in Mistport harbour, circa 400 4E The door opened swiftly, rousing Feral and the crew from their slumber. The Suros guards filed in, began unlocking the cells and manhandling the prisoners to their feet, …

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“Well then, to those no longer with us. To Pimm. To Waylon, to Jenna.”

“To Nala.”

“Aye. To Nala.”

— Overheard in Mistport harbour, circa 400 4E

The door opened swiftly, rousing Feral and the crew from their slumber. The Suros guards filed in, began unlocking the cells and manhandling the prisoners to their feet, and out on to deck.

“What’s happening?” hissed Rathkran.

“Where are they taking us?” asked Waylon.

“We’ve arrived,” muttered Petarix.

Rathkran and Waylon fell silent.

The crew blinked in the sunlight of the winter’s morning, shimmering and reflecting off the prismatic shingles of Karan Taul’s buildings. The guards forced them roughly to their knees, facing the gangplank down into the harbour. Ahead of them, a procession of knights approached, each clad in glassmail of the ten Ka’ma clans.

The Ten Claws filed onto the deck and spread out, revealing the Scalelord himself, his long cape trailing behind him. He too was clad in glassmail, a deep black that matched his scales, marked with gold trim, a great broadsword on his hip, and a heavy crown on his brow. He walked forward and scanned the crew before him, one eye probing and searching, the other a milky white.

“You serve the traitor known as Narinn Markex.”

The crew looked at each other.

“The traitor known as who now?” asked Feral. He furrowed his brow in mock confusion.

“Never heard of him.” said Petarix.

“I think there’s been some confusion,” added Trynnicus, trying not to smile.

Valasar smirked mirthlessly, and nodded. He pointed at Waylon. “Kill that one to begin with.”

The crew’s eyes went wide, none wider than Waylon’s, and their smiles faded instantly. The green knight behind Valasar strode forward, drew a dagger from his belt with a glassy ring, and knelt down before Waylon. He reached one mailed hand forward, wrapping his fingers in the man’s hair.

“Please…”

There was a sharp sound of blade against flesh, a spray, and a thud as Feral found himself staring into the chef’s lifeless eyes from their new position on the deck in front of him.

Jenna screamed.

Valasar winced. “Such an awful sound, that,” he said. “…Kill her too.”

Garn stood from his crouched position, taking a pace back from the pool of blood spilling out steadily onto the deck from Waylon’s body.

The crew watched in shock as he crossed over to Jenna and knelt to look her in her tearful eyes.

“No, please! Ple–”

A flock of birds alighted from the harbourmaster’s office as Garn performed another swift cut.

Valasar inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “I assure you that contrary to what your…captain has clearly led you to believe, I am not to be toyed with. You now live at my pleasure. Take those two as…an example. If you do not wish their fate, you will give me the information I desire.”

The crew were silent, still in shock. The only sound on deck was a low gurgling.

“You’ll get nothing from us,” whispered Nala.

Valasar’s head darted round, and he crossed to stand in front of the val, her head low. He knelt down, placed two fingers under her chin, and raised her eyeline to meet his. Her white scales were spotted with red spray, and her eyes fierce.

“What was that?”

Nala set her jaw, looked the Scalelord directly in his eye. “You will get nothing from us.”

Valasar smiled.

“You are a monster,” she said quietly, mustering what saliva she could.

“Nala…” Feral began, his voice catching.

“You are not fit to rule Scale.” She spat forward, the thin water landing on the glass crown atop Valasar’s head. “You are not fit to rule Scale, and you are scared of the captain because you know that.”

“Nala, please…”

“You have taken so much from us. So much from me.

Valasar narrowed his eyes.

“My son died for you!” Nala began sobbing, her voice quivering with rage. “He was everything I had in this world, and you took him from me! You will get nothing from me, you will get nothing from us, and when you lose, I will…I…I…” she trailed off, her chest heaving with sobs.

Valasar stood to his feet slowly, then turned and walked towards the gangplank.

“Mount her as well.”

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End Credits Scene: New Management [S1E93] https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-new-management-s1e93/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-new-management-s1e93/#respond Sun, 10 Jul 2022 18:26:19 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1675 “The Siege of Orminth was a real turning point for our effort. I think up until that point, nobody really believed we stood a chance, not even in our own troop. Perhaps not even the commander. But seeing that flag hoisted for all to see, we realised there would be no turning back.” — “The …

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“The Siege of Orminth was a real turning point for our effort. I think up until that point, nobody really believed we stood a chance, not even in our own troop. Perhaps not even the commander. But seeing that flag hoisted for all to see, we realised there would be no turning back.”

— “The Markex War”, Sargon Telar

There was a knock at the door, and both Raikos and Valasar halted their conversation, looking expectantly towards it. The heavy glass door eased open, revealing Sarix Keldrath standing at attention.

“Sire,” she saluted.

“What news?” asked the Scalelord. Raikos raised a browplate.

“Orminth’s fallen, sire.”

Valasar’s eyes widened. “Fallen?!”

“Aye, sire. The separatists have seized the city chambers and the garrison are no longer giving resistance.” Sarix shut the door behind her, stood with her hands clasped behind her back.

Valasar slammed the table he and Raikos stood before, looked incredulously at Lord Keldrath. “What say you now, Raikos? Hmm? Still feel they’ve not the force for it?!”

“Sire, I…” Raikos began, faltering.

Valasar fixed Sarix in his gaze. “How did this information come? We’ve reports from Orminth already?”

Sarix shook her head. “Not yet, sire. The Ist’s wizard reported it directly, sire. Scryed the chambers not an hour ago.”

Valasar closed his eyes and was silent for a moment. “How are their forces now? They’ll have taken heavy losses.”

“…”

Valasar looked expectantly at Sarix.

“…We’re still awaiting a full appraisal, sire, but…no. The majority of their force appears to be intact.” The Red Claw delivered the sentence with a rare level of trepidation in her voice.

“That’s preposterous,” said Raikos, “a force that size attacking a fortified, garrisoned city like Orminth? They’ll have lost half their vak if not more!”

“Regretfully, my lord, it appears not.”

The three stood in silence for a long moment, before Sarix eventually spoke.

“Have you any orders, sire?”

Valasar looked to Raikos. “Your suggestions, Lord Keldrath?”

Raikos set his jaw. “…It might do well to proceed cautiously, sire. It’s possible that this is some sort of trick, some doing of the wizard… Until we can verify the Ist’s intelligence, I’d advise we keep our forces in station.”

Valasar nodded slowly, stroked his chin. He didn’t say anything for a long time.

“It may well be that when we have reports from the Vth the situation is rather different, sire,” Raikos continued.

“Mm,” said Valasar. “I think not.”

Raikos and Sarix looked warily at the Scalelord.

“Send a force immediately.”

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End Credits Scene: The Siege of Orminth [S1E92] https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-the-siege-of-orminth-s1e92/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-the-siege-of-orminth-s1e92/#respond Sun, 03 Jul 2022 11:10:39 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1670 “Hubris. Arrogance. These have brought low countless strategists, and they will bring low countless more. One must keep careful watch of both, if one wishes not to join them. Trust not an easy victory or a weak foe. Consider others your superior in everything, or risk becoming another monument to the strength of these forces.” …

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“Hubris. Arrogance. These have brought low countless strategists, and they will bring low countless more. One must keep careful watch of both, if one wishes not to join them. Trust not an easy victory or a weak foe. Consider others your superior in everything, or risk becoming another monument to the strength of these forces.”

— “Strategy: A Primer”

Two golden eyes looked upon the weft of time, smiling as they scanned through a uniform nexus point – the magewright’s body reduced to golden sand, her companions pursued by his servants. Across all the minute differences of time’s inexorable march, her death was destined.

A grin began to form at the edges of his mouth. He cast his gaze forward from that moment, watched its ramifications in countless worlds. In some, her six comrades perished alongside her, golden sand wicking away in the northern wind the only record they had ever existed. In others, they continued, slowly meeting her fate one-by-one, the survivors clinging on desperately to life as their compatriots steadily vanished. In one, all seven of them stood victorious in the aftermath of battle.

The grin faded instantly. Eyebrows furrowed.

“No…”

He cast his gaze further back, watched the dwarf and the greenwarden collecting her remains, watched their petition to the Stormbearer and the dwarf’s sacrifice. Watched her body reform in white light that shimmered in the great hall his presence had graced once before.

“No no no no no…”

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End Credits Scene: Ashes to Ashes. Sand to Sand, Pt. 3 https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-ashes-to-ashes-sand-to-sand-pt-3/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-ashes-to-ashes-sand-to-sand-pt-3/#respond Mon, 27 Jun 2022 10:03:52 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1666 “Come to think of it, family was a…sore subject for most of them.” — Excerpt from “Rinn’s Heroes” “And no sign of her?” “Not in her cell, no,” said Kalanmyr, looking up at his aunt from his seat behind the large desk. Anvara frowned. “And the sunlighter that arrived after her?” “Gone too,” said Kalanmyr. …

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“Come to think of it, family was a…sore subject for most of them.”

— Excerpt from “Rinn’s Heroes”

“And no sign of her?”

“Not in her cell, no,” said Kalanmyr, looking up at his aunt from his seat behind the large desk.

Anvara frowned. “And the sunlighter that arrived after her?”

“Gone too,” said Kalanmyr. “Their belongings were taken from the guardroom and both cells empty.”

A smile played at the corner of Anvara’s mouth. “Molly, Molly, Molly… Just as devious as your mother. Whatever are we going to do with you?”

The words hung in the air for a moment before Kalanmyr spoke. “I’ve doubled Matron Morennel’s guard. I suspect she’ll be her primary target if she’s still in the city.”

“And if she’s already left?”

Kalanmyr shrugged. “She’ll return.” He tapped the white blade on his hip. “I doubt she’d walk away from both.”

Anvara mused wordlessly in agreement. “Your mother never gave her hers, then.”

“Not so far as I can tell.”

Anvara nodded. “Let’s hope she’s foolish enough to stay then. If she flees she may bring the rest of her sunlighter allies when she returns.”

Kalanmyr shrugged. “She’s the dangerous one.”

“I’m sure. Your soldiers had best find her quickly then. You’ve bolstered the guard rotations I assume?”

“No.”

Anvara raised an eyebrow.

“If I did it wouldn’t matter. They won’t catch her. Not unless she wants to be caught. If we find her anywhere it’ll be the throne room.”

Anvara glanced at the blade on Kalanmyr’s belt. “Or here.”

“I’ll be ready for her.”

“…You’ll do what must be done?”

“Of course.”

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End Credits Scene: Ashes to Ashes, Sand to Sand, Pt. 2 [S1E90] https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-ashes-to-ashes-sand-to-sand-pt-2-s1e90/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-ashes-to-ashes-sand-to-sand-pt-2-s1e90/#respond Sun, 19 Jun 2022 23:30:14 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1663 “Unit Designation: ‘Ward’“Classification: Original classification Gladiator (MKIV-A). Current classification Dreadnought (Unknown Model)“Years of Service: 396“Employment History: 26th Aetherforged Battalion, Great War; Man-at-Arms, Meriden Constabulary; Guard Captain, Village of Kilmoor“Current Occupation: Personal Bodyguard, Muir Kelly” — Aetherforged Registry, Accessed 397 4E Heavy metal footsteps could be heard over the din of the Legion’s encampment, and Gek …

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“Unit Designation: ‘Ward’
“Classification: Original classification Gladiator (MKIV-A). Current classification Dreadnought (Unknown Model)
“Years of Service: 396
“Employment History: 26th Aetherforged Battalion, Great War; Man-at-Arms, Meriden Constabulary; Guard Captain, Village of Kilmoor
“Current Occupation: Personal Bodyguard, Muir Kelly”

— Aetherforged Registry, Accessed 397 4E

Heavy metal footsteps could be heard over the din of the Legion’s encampment, and Gek looked up as Ward approached.

“How long till there?” asked Gek, looking up at the behemoth of purple metal from where he sat.

Ward eased himself down to a sitting position next to the kobold. “Well, my geography of Scale isn’t all that good but I spoke to Balax,” he said, gesturing towards the distant city, “and I think that’s where we’re headed. Should be there tomorrow.”

Gek craned his neck to follow Ward’s stubby metal finger. “There?”

“Think so.”

“That fing there?”

“Yep.”

“…But is SO BIG!

“Well…yes, I suppose so.”

Gek blinked twice at the aetherforged. Ward’s eye stared back implacably.

“But how we gon’ kill it if so big?!”

Motors in Ward’s jaw whirred with confusion. “…We’re…we’re not trying to kill the city. We’re trying to capture the city.”

Gek leant his chin on one hand and narrowed his eyes.

“We’re gonna sort of…go in and…then it’ll be our city.”

“…All of it?”

“I…I suppose so, yeah.”

“Whole fing? All Gek’s?!”

“Well, I suppose it’d be Narinn and Zorgar’s if it’s anyone’s.”

“Ok. Guess Narn have this one. Gek have next one.”

Gek looked cheerfully at Ward, who didn’t quite know how to reply. “I…Yeah. Ok. However you want to decide that stuff.”

Gek beamed. “So walk in, then ours?”

“Well…”

“That EASY! Why not everyone got own city?”

“Well, it’s not quite as simple as that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. We…we’ll have to fight them. Probably.”

Gek slowly drew his dagger, maintaining eye contact with Ward.

“Yeah…”

“Well that ok. Narn and Zorgor good fighting.”

“They are. But it’s more than just fighting too. People will get hurt, they’ll need looked after.”

“Harfn and the Ru..Rur…–hairy one– they good that.”

“Yep. But they might have more soldiers than us, so we have to be clever too.”

“Clever?”

“Like…smart.”

Gek furrowed his brow.

“Good at thinking.”

“Oh! Lidder good thinking.”

“She is good at that.”

“And Moor.”

“Yeah, and Muir.”

“Miss Moor.”

“Yeah, can’t wait to see Muir again.”

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End Credits Scene: Ashes to Ashes, Sand to Sand [S1E89] https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-ashes-to-ashes-sand-to-sand-s1e89/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-ashes-to-ashes-sand-to-sand-s1e89/#respond Sun, 12 Jun 2022 13:56:50 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1659 “Paranoia is an insidious disease. It spreads slowly, a thin layer of oil over everything until nothing and no one has escaped the tar. “It is easy as a leader to see threats where there are none – flickering shadows on the wall, a misplaced smile or frown. One must remain vigilant, both of those …

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“Paranoia is an insidious disease. It spreads slowly, a thin layer of oil over everything until nothing and no one has escaped the tar.

“It is easy as a leader to see threats where there are none – flickering shadows on the wall, a misplaced smile or frown. One must remain vigilant, both of those around them, but also of their own mind.”

— “The Practice of Leadership”

The door to the throne room eased open, heralding the arrival of Garn and Sarix. They strode forward and saluted, the Red Claw’s firm, her back straight; the Green’s more understated. Valasar sat up in the glass throne at the hall’s end, looking expectantly at the pair.

The two Claws exchanged a glance, neither wanting to speak first.

“…Still no sign, Your Grace. Nobody in the city’s seen even a shadow of them.” Sarix’s voice was rigid.

Valasar set his jaw and furrowed his browplates. “They’re here. I know they are. Lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. Redouble your efforts – I want them found! Nobody enters or leaves the city until I’ve their heads on pikes.”

“Sire, respectfully…” ventured Garn, the king’s solitary eye darting to fix him in its gaze.

“…We believe strongly that they’re no longer in Karan Taul. Vexir intelligence suggests—”

Vexir intelligence,” scoffed Valasar. “Vexir intelligence did little to assist their capture, and it did little to protect me from that human witch, Garn.”

Garn gulped. “I understand, sire. But as I say, Vexir intelligence suggests their sights are set on another target entirely.”

“We’ve received reports that Captain Gaur was removed from the VIII’s custody by individuals matching the separatists’ description, sire,” cut in Sarix.

“…We’ve also heard reports from the citizenry that military movements have been sighted heading towards Orminth,” continued Garn, “and as Sarix will attest, there have been no planned Keldrath movements matching that description.”

Valasar narrowed his eye.

“We believe they’re marching on Orminth, sire,” said Sarix.

Valasar stood from the throne, descended the steps, faced Sarix. “How quickly can Lord Keldrath be in the capital?”

“By…by drake, sire, perhaps by tomorrow, I’m unsure.”

“I want him here by dawn.”

Sarix saluted. Valasar turned to Garn. “Send for Arturim, ensure he brings me this ‘Vexir intelligence’. I’ll await him in my chambers.”

“Yes, sire.”

Valasar turned and began to stride off.

“Sire?” called Garn after him.

Valasar paused, looked back over his shoulder.

“…The curfew, sir. What shall we tell the citizens?”

“The curfew remains in effect.”

“But sire, we’ve…they’re not in the city. The people already grow restless.”

“It’s a trick. They’re still lurking nearby, waiting for the right moment to strike. I won’t give them the opportunity. The curfew remains in effect. Double the guard rota.”

“Sire…”

“That’s an order, Garn.”

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End Credits Scene: Borrowed Time [S1E88] https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-borrowed-time-s1e88/ https://animancer.com/fiction/cor-end-credits/end-credits-scene-borrowed-time-s1e88/#respond Sun, 05 Jun 2022 22:18:19 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1654 Orphis grinned.]]>

Orphis grinned.

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From the Desk of the Animancer, May 24th 2022: Vaz’kin’rai Now Available on Roll20! https://animancer.com/news/from-the-desk-of-the-animancer-may-24th-2022-vazkinrai-now-available-on-roll20/ https://animancer.com/news/from-the-desk-of-the-animancer-may-24th-2022-vazkinrai-now-available-on-roll20/#respond Tue, 24 May 2022 17:00:16 +0000 https://animancer.com/?p=1644 Hi folks! I hope you’ve all been enjoying delving into Vaz’kin’rai after its release at the start of the month. I’ve got a quick update for you today re: virtual tabletop support – both Vaz’kin’rai and Enchiridion: Vaz’kin’rai are now available for Roll20! Vaz’kin’rai on Roll20 The adventure itself has been fully converted for use …

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Hi folks!

I hope you’ve all been enjoying delving into Vaz’kin’rai after its release at the start of the month. I’ve got a quick update for you today re: virtual tabletop support – both Vaz’kin’rai and Enchiridion: Vaz’kin’rai are now available for Roll20!

Vaz’kin’rai on Roll20

The adventure itself has been fully converted for use with Roll20 – setup to be as easy as possible to use and take advantage of the neat features Roll20 has to offer. As you’d expect, this means it has:

  • The full adventure text separated into bite-sized, hyperlinked chunks so you can refer to what you need, when you need it
  • The adventure map configured for use with Dynamic Lighting
  • The five premade characters set up to be used right from the get-go
  • The three binaural ambiences and five sound effects from the Sonoria already set up as part of the module according to best practices for the platform. Just hit play!
  • Tokens for all the creatures encountered in the adventure
  • All of the adventure art implemented as handouts for sharing with your players

You can grab your copy of the adventure here, or as part of the Deluxe Edition bundle!

Enchiridion: Vaz’kin’rai on Roll20

The Enchiridion is also all set to drop into your Roll20 campaigns, and we’ve gone the extra mile to make it maximally usable for you by implementing it as a Compendium Expansion for 5E! That means:

  • You can access the full text within the 5E compendium in-game and on the Roll20 site.
  • You can use the Compendium Sharing features of Roll20 to allow your players access to the content as well as you.
  • The lineage options, feats, background, and subclass are fully compatible with the Roll20 Charactermancer so it’s super easy to get up and running with a vor’tai or salari character, or a monk of the Silver Staff.
  • The magic items from the Silver Staff vaults are fully drag-and-drop compatible with Roll20 character sheets.

We’ve also packaged up some tokens with the compendium content so you can visually represent salari or vor’tai characters in-game too! Implementing the Enchiridion as a Compendium Expansion gives you the very best experience we can – not many folks do it and we’re very pleased to be able to offer it for you.

You can grab your copy of the Enchiridion here, or as part of the Deluxe Edition bundle.

Between the adventure and the Enchiridion implementation, we think you can have a really first-rate experience using the Vaz’kin’rai content on Roll20, and we can’t wait to see how folks get on with it! We’re already hard at work on what’s next, and we’ll have a further update for you regarding Fantasy Grounds availability for the Vaz’kin’rai slate as soon as that comes online. As always, the best way to keep up with Animancer news is to join our mailing list below, or come by our Discord server!

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