#lore review

damn, that sure is something I said years before Zibai called Zhongli "Heaven's Star" in front of everyone.

The small room plunged into semi-lit darkness, suddenly, a mosaic of light began to dance along the dark wood paneling. Outlined by a white glow, an orb appeared above the round table. While Philippa Eilhart chanted the last incantations, the orb came up right in front of her, on top of one of the twelve chairs placed around the table. An indistinct silhouette took shape inside it. The projection was not very stable, the image flickered, but it soon became clearer. 

“Holy shit,” Keira muttered, wiping her forehead. “Do they not know of glamarye or any other beauty spells in Nilfgaard?” “Apparently not.” said Triss from the corner of her mouth. “They certainly have not heard of fashion either.” “Neither have they heard of make-up.” said Philippa quietly. “But don't say a word now, girls. And do not gape at her. We must stabilize the projection and greet our guest. Strengthen me, Rita.”

Margarita Laux-Antille repeated the formula of the incantation and gestured to Philippa. The image flickered several times, it started to lose its vague picture and unnatural glow, the contours and colours became more acute. The sorceresses were now carefully observing the silhouette that was facing them. Triss bit her lip and glanced at Keira.

The woman within the projection was pale and her complexion was ugly. She had bland, expressionless eyes, narrow bluish lips and a slightly hooked nose. She wore a bizarre, conical, rather crumpled hat. Thin, dark, greasy hair hung from underneath it. Her robes were loose and shapeless, black with a silver trim, and frayed at the shoulder making her look unattractive and neglected. They were embroidered with a circle and a crescent star which served as the only decoration worn by the Nilfgaardian sorceress. Philippa Eilhart rose, trying not to unduly expose her jewels, her laces and her cleavage. 

“The venerable Lady Assire,” she said. “Welcome to Montecalvo. We are delighted that you have accepted our invitation.” “I accepted out of curiosity.” said the Nilfgaardian sorceress with an unexpectedly pleasant and melodious voice, instinctively adjusting her hat. Her hands were thin, marked with yellow spots, and her nails were broken and uneven, obviously bitten. “Only out of curiosity,” she reiterated, “however the consequences could indeed prove to be disasterous for me. I beg you to give me an explanation.”

“I will do so in a moment,” Philippa nodded, motioning the other sorceresses. “But before then, allow me to call the projections of the other participants of the meeting and make a cross-presentation. I ask a little patience.” The sorceresses united hands again and resumed their incantations. The air in the chamber rang like taut wire from the ceiling coffers and once again descended in a glowing haze, filling the room with flickering shadows. Above three of the unoccupied chairs, spheres of pulsating light began to form, the outlines of the silhouettes within becoming visible. 

The first to appear was Sabrina Glevissig, wearing a provocatively low-cut turquoise dress with a large, standing lace collar, which formed a beautiful setting for her curly hair crowned with a brilliant diadem. Next to her, emerging from the misty light projection, was Sheala de Tancarville in a black velvet gown trimmed with pearls, her neck wrapped with a silver fox boa. The Nilfgaardian sorceress nervously licked her thin lips. Just wait for Francesca, thought Triss. When you see Francesca, little black rat, your eyes will pop out of your head. Francesca Findabair did not disappoint. Her dress was the colour of blood, revealing her appetizing form. She wore a necklace of rubies, an ambitious hairdo, and her doe eyes were encircled with keen elven makeup.

“Ladies, I wish you all welcome to Montecalvo,” said Philippa. “I took the liberty of inviting you here to address some issues of significant importance. I regret that we meet as teleprojections, however, due to the times and the distances between us, a real meeting would have been impossible. I, Philippa Eilhart, the mistress of this castle, as hostess and instigator of this meeting will handle the introductions. To my right, Margarita Laux-Antille, the head of the Academy of Aretuza. To my left, Triss Merigold, of Maribor, and Keira Metz, of Carreras. Next, we have Sabrina Glevissig, of Ard Carraigh and Sheala Tancarville of Creyden, representing Kovir. Then Francesca Findabair, known as Enid an Gleanna, the current ruler of the Valley of Flowers. And finally Assire var Anahid of Vicovaro, from the Empire of Nilfgaard. And now ...”

“And now I will say goodbye!” Sabrina Glevissig yelled, pointing at Francesca with her hand covered in rings. “You went too far, Philippa! I'm not going to sit at the same table as the damn elf, even as an illusion! She failed to clean the blood from the walls and floors of Garstang. The blood she and Vilgefortz spilled!” “I beg you to observe the proprieties and keep your cool.” Philippa leaned on the edge of the table with both hands. “Listen to what I have to say. I do not ask anything more. When I finish, each of you will decide whether to stay or leave. The projection is voluntary, it can be interrupted at any time. The only thing I ask of those who decide to leave, is to keep the secrecy of this meeting.”

“I knew it!” Sabrina moved so suddenly that for a moment she came out of the projection. “A secret meeting! Secret arrangements! In short, a conspiracy! And the intent is clear. Do you mock us, Philippa? First you demand that we keep this from our kings and our colleagues, which you have not seen fit to invite. And there sits Enid Findabair, by the grace of Emhyr var Emreis the reigning ruler of the elves of Dol Blathanna, who actively supports and arms Nilfgaard. That's not to say I'm not more amazed at the projection of a Nilfgaardian sorceress here in this room. Since when did the sorcerers of Nilfgaard cease to profess blind obedience and docile servility towards the Imperial power? And what secrets are we talking about here? If she's here, its at the knowledge and consent of Emhyr! At his command! She is the eyes and ears of the Emperor!”

“I doubt it.” said Assire var Anahid calmly. “Nobody knows that I participate in this meeting. I was asked in secrecy, which I have preserved and will maintain. It is also in my own interest to do so - if my participation came to light, I'd lose my head. For that is why there is such servility among sorcerers in the Empire, they have a choice between slavery and the scaffold. I have undertaken a risk by accepting your invitation. I did not come here as a spy and I have only one way to prove it, my own death. Just break Lady Eilharts request of secrecy. If the news of our meeting leaves these walls, I lose my life.”

“For me, the betrayal of this secret could also have unpleasant consequences,” Francesca smiled charmingly. “You would have a marvelous opportunity for revenge, Sabrina.” “I will get revenge in some other way, elf.” Sabrina's black eyes flashed ominously. “If the secret comes to light, it will not be through my fault or carelessness. Not mine!” “Are you implying something?” “Of course,” Philippa Eilhart interjected. “Of course, Sabrina gently reminds us of my work with Sigismund Dijkstra. As if she herself had never maintained any contact with the agents of King Henselt.” “There is a difference,” Sabrina growled. “I was not Henselt's mistress for three years, let alone his spies!” “Enough of this! Shut up!”

“I agree.” Sheala de Tancarville suddenly said outloud. “You've said enough, Sabrina. Enough already about Thanedd, enough about espionage and personal affairs. I do not come here to take part in such discussions or to listen to you spread your resentment and bombard us with insults. I'm not interested in the role of mediator, and if you invited me here with this intention, I will say it was to no avail. Indeed, I already suspect that I participate in vain, and I unnecessarily lose precious time at the great expense of my research work. However, I will refrain from making assumptions. Finally, I propose we call on Philippa Eilhart to begin, so we can finally learn the reason for this gathering. We will learn the role in which we play here. Then, without unnecessary emotions we will decide whether we should continue the show or lower the curtain. The discretion of which we are asked to commit, of course, obliges us all. And I, Sheala de Tancarville, will personally take appropriate action against the indiscreet.”

None of the sorceresses moved nor uttered a word. Triss did not for a moment doubt Sheala's warning. The Koviri  recluse did not make threats she threw to the wind. “We give you the stage, Philippa. I ask that the venerable congregation remain silent until you are finished.”

Philippa Eilhart rose, rustling her dress.

“Dear sisters,” she said. “The situation is serious. Magic is threatened. The tragic events of Thanedd, thoughts that I remember with regret and reluctance, have shown that the effects of hundreds of years of seemingly conflict-free cooperation, can be forgotten in the blink of an eye, when excessive private interests and ambitions emerge. Today we are in a breakdown, a disorder, and we run into mutual hostility and distrust. This is what happens, when things begin to spiral out of control. To regain control, to prevent a terrible disaster, we should take a strong hand to the helm of this ship carried away by the storm. Lady Laux-Antille, Lady Metz, Lady Merigold and I have already discussed this matter and have reached an agreement. Rebuilding the Chapter and Council destroyed at Thanedd is not enough. Besides, no one is capable of rebuilding both of these institutions, and there is no guarantee that it will not be infected by the same disease that destroyed the previous one. We propose a completely different, secret organization that will serve only the affairs of magic, which will do everything in its powers to prevent a disaster. For if magic dies, this world will perish. Just as centuries ago, a world devoid of magic and the progress it brings will plunge into chaos and darkness, it will be drowned in blood and barbarity. All ladies present here are welcome to join our initiative, to actively participate in the proposed secret group. We have invited you here to hear your views on on this matter. I am done.”

“Thank you.” Nodded Sheala de Tancarville. “If the ladies will allow me, I will begin. My first question, Philippa; why me? Why was I invited? Repeatedly, I rejected my candidacy for the Chapter, and I refused a chair on the Council. Firstly, my work consumes me. Secondly, I thought then and still think that there are, in Kovir, Hengfors and Poviss others, more deserving of these honors. I ask, why I was invited here and not Carduin? Not Istredd of Aedd Gynvael, Tugdual or Zangenis?”

“Because they are men.” said Philippa. “The organization, which I have mentioned should be composed exclusively of women. And you Assire?” “I withdraw my question.” The Nilfgaardian sorceress smiled. “It was the same as Lady de Tancarville's. The answer satisfied me.”

“This smacks of feminist chauvinism.” sneered Sabrina Glevissig. “Especially from your mouth, Philippa, after your change of ... sexual orientation. I have nothing against men. In fact, I love men, and life without them I can not imagine. But ... After a moment's thought ... I believe this to be a wise concept. Men are mentally unstable, too sensitive to their emotions and you can not count on them in times of crisis.”

“It is true.” admitted Margarita Laux-Antille calmly. “We constantly compare the results of the of the Aretuza adepts to those boys from the school in Ban Ard and the comparison falls invariably in favour of the girls. Magic requires patience, delicacy, intelligence, common sense and tenacity. It needs one to bear calmly and humbly their setbacks and failures. Men lose to ambition. They always want what they know is impossible and unattainable, and they do not notice what is possible.”

“Enough, enough, enough.” Sheala pouted, though not hiding her smile. “There is nothing worse than scientifically manufactured chauvinism, shame on you, Rita! Although ... I agree also with the unisex structure of the proposed convention... or, if preferred, Lodge. As we understand this is for the future of magic, and magic is too serious a matter to entrust its fate to men.”

“If I may,” Francesca Findabair said in her melodious voice, “I would like us to stop the rambling speculation about the nature of the domination of our gender, this harbours no discussion. Let us instead focus on matters relating to the proposed initiative, the purpose of which is still not entirely clear to me. The timing is not accidental, and is clearly related to the war. Nilfgaard has invaded and forced the Northern Kingdoms to the wall. So behind the vague slogans that I have heard, is hidden understandably, the desire to reverse the situation and defeat Nilfgaard? And then to skin the audacious elves? If so, Philippa, we do not find common ground.”

“Is this the reason why I have been invited here?” Asked Assire var Anahid. “I do not devote much attention to politics, but I know that the Imperial army has the advantage over your troops. Aside from Lady Francesca and Madame de Tancarville coming from a neutral kingdom, all the ladies represent kingdoms which are hostile to the Nilfgaardian Empire. Do you expect me to see this magic word of solidarity, as an incentive for treason? I'm sorry, but I do not see myself in that role.”

Having finished her speech, Assire leant, as if to lay her hand on something that was not in the projection. Triss thought she heard meowing. “She has a cat!” whispered Keira Metz. “I bet he's black ...” “Not so loud.” Philippa hissed. “Dear Francesca, dear Assire. Our initiative should be absolutely apolitical, that is its basic premise. We will not be guided by the interests of races, kingdoms, kings and emperors, but the good magic and its future.”

“Driven by the good magic,” Sabrina Glevissig smiled mockingly, “but still forgetting to ensure the welfare of witches? And yet we know how our fellow sorcerers are treated in Nilfgaard. We talk of being apolitical, but when Nilfgaard wins and we find ourselves under Imperial power, we will all look like ...” Triss moved uneasily, Philippa let out a barely audible sigh. Keira looked down, Sheala pretended to adjust her boa. Francesca bit her lip. Assire var Anahid's face did not flinch, but was covered with a slight blush.

“I just wanted to say... It's a sad fate that awaits us all.” Sabrina finished quickly. “Philippa, Triss and I, all three of us were at Sodden Hill. Emhyr will make us pay, as we will pay forThanedd, and for the entirety of our involvement. But this is just one of the reservations that stops me from agreeing to the declared political neutrality of the convention. Does participation in it mean the immediate resignation of the active and political, after all, service that we act in now with our kings? Or will we remain in this service and serve two masters at once: magic and power?”

“When someone tells me that he is apolitical,”Francesca smiled, “I always ask which of the policies he is referring to.” “And you know for certain he does not mean the one that he follows.” said Assire var Anahid, looking at Philippa. “I am apolitical,” Margarita Laux-Antille raised her head. “And my school is apolitical. I mean all political types that exist!” “Dear ladies,” Sheala spoke. She had remained silent for a long time. “Remember that you are the superior sex. So do not behave like girls who are fighting over bowl of sweet treats on the table. The principle proposed by Philippa is clear. At least to me, and I still don't have enough reason to consider you to be less keen of mind than I am. Outside of this room, be who you want, and serve whom you want and for whatever reason you choose to, as faithfully as you wish. But when the convention is gathered, we will deal exclusively with magic and its future.”

“This is exactly how I imagine it.” Philippa Eilhart confirmed. “I know that there are many problems, as well as doubts and ambiguities. We will discuss them at the next meeting in which all will take part, not as a projection or illusion, but in their own person. Your presence will be regarded not as a formal act of accession to the convention, but as a goodwill gesture. We will decide together whether such a convention should be created. All of us. Fairly.”

then later on when assire and fringilla attended in person they legit crossed that entire distance in like two or three portals once again that is a massive long way and a huge effort esp given it took multiple portals. 

the games also refer to her as teleporting all the way from nilfgaard to loc muinne once again a long as way, even further than redania this time. 

all i’m saying is that assire might not be great at spontaneous casting, and she might not be the most versatile or accomplished compared to the other lodge mages but the things she specialises in she is fucking outstanding at. 

so I was going through old Archive entries on Genshin in preparation for the next chunk of the Archon quest that’s dropping tonight, and here are some interesting bits of information I had completely forgotten about in the last 4+ years:

“We Will Be Reunited” (Ch. 1. Act IV)

the Treasure Hoarders potentially worship, or are lead by, a “God of Thieves.” Whether this entity is an actual god, or whether that god is or isn’t one of the Seven, has not been confirmed. HOWEVER, when we find the Fontanian “Grand Thief” (who was supposed to be as renowned in Teyvat as Alice…lol) dead in front of the inverted Venti statue, he looks to be praying. Hermes/Mercury is the god of winds, travelers, and thieves. A stretch? Maybe so, but I’ll leave that up to the reader. :p

When the Traveler first hears from Dainsleif that Khaenri’ah was destroyed by the gods, they think about what they’ll do or say the next time they see Venti or Zhongli. As far as I can remember, nothing ever comes of that potential discussion…since we’ve seen both Venti and Zhongli multiple times since.

The initial “test” or operative step for the Abyss Order’s Loom of Fate Project pertained to using the “Eye” of the first Ruin Guard (“Field Tiller”), the Defiled Statue, and the body of Osial (the ocean serpent in Liyue) to build a mechanized god. This mechanized-god project mirrors the intentions that the Fatui and Akademiya had for Scaramouche during the Sumeru Archon Quest - with the Gnosis instead of the “eye,” and Scaramouche himself instead of the Defiled Statue. What the Akademiya used to create Shouki no Kami’s body, I don’t think we know.

Dainsleif confirms that the reason we find Ruin Guards NEAR ruins to begin with is NOT because those ruins are part of Khaenri’ah - it’s because the machines are drawn to old, lonely places that they perceive as being like themselves.

Dainsleif doesn’t trust the Church or Knights of Favonius. We now know (through Mika and his Windblume Festival introduction) that the Knights have some sort of “agreement” with the Fatui (Varka and Capitano claim to be “on the same side, currently).

The Abyss Twin says that they’ve “already gone through this world once.” As far as either twin knows, they’ve only experienced one past loop in Teyvat.

Abyss Twin wants to “engulf the thrones” - that is, specifically, the thrones granted by Celestia.

Abyss Twin resents Dainsleif for “failing” to protect Khaenri’ah.

“Requiem of Echoing Depths (Ch 2. Act IV)

The Chasm’s underground mines are crawling with former Khaenri’ahn soldiers, but Dainsleif purports to NEVER have stepped foot in the Chasm before. This suggests that the other Khaenri’ahn soldiers there were probably drawn in the same way that the hilichurls were. The Chasm ruins, likewise, are NOT part of Khaenri’ah, but another previous unified civilization. (this is confirmed by Dainsleif explicitly).

The bodies of hilichurls are not burnt or discolored. They’re necrotizing (“eroding,” in Dainsleif’s words). They don’t cover their faces because they’ve become monsters - they’re covering their faces because while they’re suffering the curse of immortality, their bodies are STILL FREAKING DECAYING. This may also be the case with Arlecchino - although because she’s from a different dynasty of Khaenri’ah, the fire/burning aspects may still apply (unsure whether the two dynasties experienced similar or different fates?)

Lumine’s Inteyvat hair ornament will turn to dust when she finally returns it to Khaenri’ah.

At this point, the Loom of Fate is already “almost complete.” The Abysslings are placing “amplification devices” of some sort in the Chasm as part of the project.

“Caribert” (Ch. 3 Act IV)

Kaeya is implied to be only half-Khaenri’ahn, he doesn’t remember anything about Khaenri’ah proper, and he isn’t afflicted with an immortality curse (i.e. he ages normally). This suggests that 1) Khaenri’ahns were still able to reproduce with “regular” humans AFTER the cataclysm occurred (and since some of them can alter their appearance to look like a normal human, I guess it makes sense…), and 2) doing so does not pass the curse down to their children. Caribert was punished because he was alive at the time of the cataclysm.

The “I follow no god…I count some of them as my foes” line you choose during this quest is from your sibling’s memories, not your own thoughts.

Khaenri’ahn citizens who were related to the bloodline of the civilization became Abysslings. Ex-pat citizens who moved to Khaenri’ah from other nations became hilichurls (which was considered a “mercy”).

Medicine, books, and anything else pertaining to the Seven Archons was BANNED in Khaenri’ah.

The “Fortune Lector” (the Abyss Herald-esque enemy that guards the entrance to the Sinner’s chambers) sports decorations on its form that resemble the ruins littered throughout Teyvat, and is therefore likely a being from that previous unified civilization. It tells us that “Fate has not granted you the right to enter.”

The Sinner, likewise, also appears to know of other creatures’ fates (but this can’t really be confirmed with the [canon] information we have on the Sinner so far. Here’s hoping we get more!!!)

Unlike priestesses and druidesses, who only unwillingly took ugly or crippled girls, sorcerers took anyone who showed evidence of a predisposition. If the child passed the first years of training, magic entered into the equation – straightening and evening out legs, repairing bones which had badly knitted, patching hare-lips, removing scars, birthmarks and pox scars. The young sorceress would become attractive because the prestige of her profession demanded it. The result was pseudo-pretty women with the angry and cold eyes of ugly girls. Girls who couldn’t forget their ugliness had been covered by the mask of magic only for the prestige of their profession.”

Andrzej Sapkowski - The Last Wish

Ok but this is a big deal. I hc that Phil got bullied A LOT as a little girl, first and foremost being told over and over “NO ONE LIKES YOU”, when she was just this extroverted little thing that just wanted to belong, that wanted so desperately to be liked and accepted. Then magic is added into the equation and there she is still craving that sense of belonging and being liked and respected, only now she has learned that a) you can FORCE people to like you if you know how to push their buttons and b) that it’s quite acceptable to just destroy anyone who doesn’t. She’s a classic example of a person who has been a victim and then becomes an abuser themselves.

One of the women following them had dark, evenly combed hair, sparkling eyes and thin lips. She wore a short, violet silk coat trimmed with dormice fur.

‘Why aren’t you in school, student?’ she asked coldly, glaring at Ciri.

‘Wait, Tissaia,’ said the other woman, younger, tall and blond, in a green dress with a considerable neckline. ‘I don’t recognize her. I don’t think she’s…’

‘She is.’ Cut the dark-haired one. ‘I’m certain that she’s one of your girls, Rita. You can’t possibly know them all. She must be one of those who sneaked out through Loxia during the chaos when the students changed quarters. And now we shall wait for her explanation. Well, student?’

‘What?’ Ciri frowned.

The woman pursed her thin lips and evened the cuffs of her gloves.

‘Where did you steal that amulet from? Or perhaps someone had given it to you?’

‘What?’

‘Don’t test my patience, student. Tell us your name, class and name of your preceptress. Now!’

‘What?’

‘Are you playing dumb, student? Your name! What is your name?’

Ciri clenched her teeth and her eyes shot green flames at them.

‘Anna Ingeborga Klopstock’ she hissed tactlessly.

The woman raised her hand and Ciri immediately understood the seriousness of her mistake. Yennefer had demonstrated to her paralysing spells only once, tired with her long whining. The feeling had been considerably unpleasant. It was the same now.

Fabio cried terrified and leaped towards her but the other woman, the blond one, caught him by the collar and forced him to stay in place. The boy jerked his arm but the woman had an iron grip. Ciri couldn’t move. The dark-haired one bent down and glared at her.

‘I am not in favour of corporal punishment,’ she drawled her words coldly, evening her cuffs yet again, ‘But I will ensure that you’re whipped, student. Not for misbehaviour, not for the theft or elopement. Not even for wearing illicit clothes, walking out with a boy and telling him about things you were forbidden from discussing. No, you will be whipped for being unable to recognize an Archmistress.’

‘No!’ yelled Fabio. ‘Don’t hurt her, Ma’am! I am a clerk at Molnar Giancardi’s bank and this lady is…’

‘Shut up!’ yelled Ciri. ‘Shut….’ The gagging spell was casted quickly and brutally. She could taste blood in her mouth.

Terry Pratchett – The Fifth Elephant 

I need to talk about ANGUA.

I need to talk about Angua’s background.

Angua, essentially, was raised in a family that considered themselves superhuman. The von Uberwalds are werewolves, in Discworld canon being a werewolf is not a matter of curse or disease but of species (a subset of Undead, to be exact). Angua’s family were speciesist AS FUCK, considering themselves so highly superior, everyone else lesser. It is such a very clear code for white supremacism, it could not be any more obvious. On top of that, they are nobility.

So Angua grew up having her head filled with all this supremacist nonsense, she watched and she listened and she absorbed until eventually she started to question.

Angua’s brother killed one of their siblings purely for the fact that she could not shift shape – she was a yennork, a werewolf by blood but stuck in one form (in her case, human). And Angua’s father let it happen.

I think Angua likely questioned the status quo before – she is intelligent, she has an innate moral compass, but losing her sister and watching her family not just stand by but low key approve of this happening for reasons of racial purity – that was the push Angua needed to break away. Because FUCK THAT. 

Angua, by nature, is a social beast. She is meant to run with a pack, being alone will always be uncomfortable to her on some degree – hence, I think, her decision to join the Watch – Angua did her time as a lone wolf but she needed a pack to thrive. Although she would have rather spent her whole life being miserable alone than to ever go back to that family. Having no pack is still better than running with one that is morally so corrupted, so conceited, so absolutely vile. Angua would have rather died than go back to that family. 

The amount of guilt and shame that Angua carries regarding her background is UNREAL.

It’s interesting, actually – one would think that her internal conflict would be the whole human vs monster thing but given where she’s come from and having seen that high key fascist, supremacist side of people  - that is the conflict. Knowing that she has to some agree absorbed that ideology (she was a child, that was all she knew!) and having to constantly monitor how that might unconsciously affect her thoughts, her actions, her views of other people. Having to question herself constantly. Wanting to be a better person than that, and standing up for those who have been wronged by that kind of ideology.

‘I apologize humbly to the noble ladies!’, Exclaimed a voice from above from the unseen innkeeper. ‘Excuse me for daring to disturb, but… an officer urgently wants to see Madame De Vries! They say that this will suffer no delay!’

Margarita Laux-Antille chuckled and winked at Yennefer, after which both, as to an order, withdrew the towels from their bosoms and adopted a position convoluted and highly challenging.

‘Let the officer enter!’ Cried Margarita, holding back laughter. ‘Go Ahead! We are ready!’

‘Like children’, sighed Tissaia de Vries, shaking her head