Early Sunday D&D: Sick Day

I was planning to go to the game. I was looking forward to it on Friday morning and said as much on our Discord server. But things did not go as planned or as desired. By Sunday morning I was not feeling well. Sick as a dog. Unable to make the game.

The game was canceled. Which is good for me, but bad for the game. It's been a long time since the group has gotten together. Apparently, the turnout was low and they decided not to play. So that means the story hasn't advanced and our big decision is still needing to be made. Destroy the floating base and everyone in it, around it, and probably below it... or take our chances fighting this ever growing fleet of airships and the people behind the trouble. How will we balance this equation. How great is the cost in lives now versus the cost of the lives in the inevitable future? Whatever will we do?

Let's look again at our hero and distract ourselves from these unpleasant choices. Instead, let's look at the pact between Thergale the Verdant and the archfey Lilliane.

I have no true idea what this creature is. Archfey? Most certainly, but a goddess, possibly. A true queen of the Feywild? Most probably, but I have no true way to know. Such knowledge is secret from foreigners in the land of the fae and I circumspect of those paths to inquire. I am allowed to know what I must and see what I may, only to interpret it as I will.

Whatever she is, is very powerful, frighteningly beautiful, and has a presence that cannot be denied. She is the source of my power: bane and blessing. She is the holder of my soul, desire of my heart, liege to my honor: courtesan and queen. We are bound together, though the tendril is within her hand and around my throat.

I have engaged Lilliane in the Court of Dawn, where all seem to defer to her. I have lain with her on the loam during the new moon at the height of spring, and the stars themselves seemed to arrange themselves for her. I watched as she disemboweled the hag, Auntie Em, and it cost her as but nothing. I know little else of this patron of mine.

The Pact of Verdant Blossoms

This agreement is not one that was created out of whole cloth for Thergale, but rather a thing that was passed on to him by the previous herald of Lilliane. A thing handed from herald to herald as the soil within is leached of beneficent. 

Thergale accepted the Pact of Blossoms from a galenician woman in Geblhom, Dorothy the Radiant, who had it passed to her by a cecaelian woodward, and so it has gone far back beyond memory or mark. As the Pact was exchanged, the beautiful woman before him began to fade and wither, as a blossom wilts on the stem. What fate befell her; he did not follow to know. He knew only that the Pact was to be held for a century’s time and then he must find another of which the Lady approve and pass it on.

To honor the Pact with the Lady, it is a must that one should invoke it in name and deed. And so, he became Thergale the Verdant and with each manifestation of her power gifted he proclaim her in name or title, lest the wrath of Lilliane be incurred and with it the uncertain action of her displeasure.

The Pact of Blossoms once invoked embues the recipient with eldritch powers and abilities, but with that boon comes a physical change. These are the binding marks of being in service to the Lady. The hair of the sworn becomes attuned to the season; becoming white in the winter, auburn in the fall, in the spring and summer it is mostly normal, though a time or two small  flowers have blossomed amongst the strands. Though this could be a sign of grace when Lilliane’s particular favor has been earned. And a secondary effect of the Pact is that the sworn always smells faintly of flowers.

Patron Attitudes

Thergale is mostly left to his own devices with no interference from Lilliane. Her whims are unfathomable and unpredictable. Sometimes he is overcome with a horrible dread of the demands she will make of him as her champion when she does appear. She is both sovereign and consort, patron and spouse, and like those relationships his place within each can be both uncertain and vulnerable.

Like a bored child, spoiled by near-limitless power, Lilliane has on a whim, created the lineage of this warlock champion. Her interest in her toy waxes and wans, seemingly without meaning. She likes this latest champion, enjoys hearing her name spoke by mortals, shivers with the portents of each interaction between them, but in truth there is no plan. This is a whim, an experiment, a trifling with the power and value of a mortal soul. A bargain or a game or something else. Whatever it proves to be, this piece has proven to be pawn, knight, and king through past incarnations.

Special Terms of the Pact

Lilliane has whispered in the night that this contract is little more than a security that the nuptials will be honored and their union remain true. For a period of 100 years, they are bound one to another. Beyond the span of years, if the soil remains fertile, they might renew the bond and continue on together.

If the vow is not renewed and a suitable replacement not found, then the benefit shall be limited, and no new powers can be gained. Lilliane shall hold Thergale’s heart as collateral against deception. At such time as the separation is completed, the bond is exchanged with a suitable candidate, and the patronage of the lady released to the new suitor, then she will release her claim upon his heart and return it to Thergale.

If the terms of the pact are broken Lilliane has warned that she will send minions to capture Thergale and bring him to her palace in Fairyland, where she will make judgment on his disloyalty and actions.

If Thergale dies while in service to Lilliane, she will travel to his realm, with his heart, and will perform his duties under the guise of his departed identity.

If somehow Lilliane dies while the pact is in effect, Thergale’s heart will find itself in the possession and ownership of whoever killed her.

“I, Thergale Sabahn, this day pledge fealty to the Verdant Mother of Dawn, Lilliane, Queen of Fairyland. Taking, for the period of 100 years, the nomenclature and succor of the great lady and vowing to provide my spirit in times of war, my mind in times of peace, and my heart in times of need. I promise to defend her fair Realm against all that desire her harm with word, deed, or force. From this day forward, as long as my Queen allows, I am bound to be faithful, holding honor and courtesy above all.”

“Let all here bear witness, that I, Lilliane, Lady of the Wood, Queen of Fairyland, hear and accept your vow, given in good faith. In turn, I vow to defend and support you and your person, with word, deed, and force. You who keep and hold this vow true will be rewarded with My favor.  You that forget this oath and break faith shall be repaid with My judgement and dreadful wrath. Now, join with me, arise with the dawn, and go forth, keeping Honor and Courtesy above all.”