"We were never enemies, child."
"How beautiful your mind must be, Grey , to think such things."
"How tragic yours... to believe them."
Cryptic, reserved: this Duskwight's heresiarch plies her overlong life with senile aplomb. Endemic of ancient Gelmorran nobility and heiress to antediluvian arcane, Eirene is well-spoken, precise in diction, and carries herself with a bizarre mixture of weary assurance native to old soldiers and the quiet regality better seen in those of blue blood. 'Mostly harmless' by favorable accounts, she is better found in a dull corner with a book than in the thick of things, but make no mistake: she is wont to as much capricious whimsy as her fae companion and is often dragged from her default solitude by the doting and desperate. In turn, she plays her part as doddering hag almost to perfection.
Almost.

"She lives ever in the aftermath. Not so much the storm, as that which ends it."
A towering Duskwight woman, standing at over seven fulms with a full physique to match - As her surname suggests, her flesh is a charcoal-gray hue. Overlong ghostly gray hair glows faintly, wrought through with silver strands. Though normally hidden behind a blindfold or visor, her yellow eyes betray her; with crinkles and tired weight that one only sees in centennials marring otherwise smooth, ageless features, a discrepancy one might expect from Viera but in elezen instead comes off as unsettling.
"The lonely Witch of Ak-Mina - Very old, very kind, and the very very last."
Name:Eirene Charbonneau
Class:裏魔道士 | Arcanist
Subclass:錬金術士 | Alchemist
Accreditation:Archon @ Faculty of Mathematics
Publications:'A World of Contradictory Magicks (And How to Fix It')
Paracausality Misunderstood; Explaining Akasa...
Race:エレゼン | Eresen/Elezen
Clan:シェーダー | Shader/Duskwight
Height:Seven Fulms, Four Ilms. ( 7’4″, 223.52 cm)
Freakishly tall; eye to eye with the tallest of female Roegadyn.
PhysiognomyStatuesque
Hair:Varies (White by Default)
Eyes:Pale, ichorous gold
Sex:Female
Age:"My, how bold."
Nameday:19th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon
November 19th
Alignment:Lawful Neutral
Patron:Nophica, the Matron
Likes:Quiet, calm, stability, small crowds, tea, fairy tales, books, stars, music, vistas, sunrises, botany, puzzles, math, autumn chill, precipitation, overcast days, flattery, lazing
Dislikes:Bright lights, loud noises, heat, open hostility, dense crowds, spontaneous changes in plan, egotists, braggarts, chaos, indeterminate equations, unpredictability, loss of control
Address(s):Lavender Beds, Ward 27, Plot 58 (Faewood, Primary)
Goblet, Ward 2, Plot 20 (Secondary)
Shirogane, Ward 3, Kobai Goten APT 1 (Tertiary)
Voice Claim: 
"I had always presumed Light to be pure and somehow chaste, to be noble and good. But this whiteness was unutterably evil, chilling, its purity an abomination."
Designation:鵺 | Nue
Monikers:The Muse, Underlight
Class:裏魔道士 | Arcanist
Taxonomy:元素の | Elemental
Form:フェアリー | Feari/Fairie
Height:One fulm (~12")
Weight:Variable mass, generally very little
Hair:Lavender
Eyes:Deep Indigo (Compound/Insect-like)
Sex:N/A, Female Presenting
Age:N/A
Patron:[Ṟ̶̛̭̱̈ͪ̍͡Ȩ̷̷͔͕̺ͨ̆͋D̴̥̬̦̏̊ͤ͘A̧̨͔͇̲̅̂̄̕C̀ͨ̉͏̴͓͙̱Ţ̨̫̮̤͋ͨ͊Ḝ̧ͯ̍͏̬̲̲D̸̴̺̩͊ͩ̄͘ͅ]
Voice:Star Trek Tribbles (Coo) (Chatter)
World of Warcraft Wolpertingers (Assorted))
Summoner:Eirene Charbonneau
"She's old... really old. She has one constant companion, and that's Death. If the Hermit and her fairy are making house calls, then... gods help you."
Every heresiarch is afforded her heresy; to the Gelmorran norms which mothered its summoner, the rainbow iridescence which follows Nue is penultimate trespass. In parallel, in paradox, creator and creation complement each other, with due grim demeanor offset by Nue's incessant pestering and apathy offset by empathy. While Eirene ever seeks to deny her entelechy, Nue is ever on the hunt to transcend its own. Its own child crusade.

"Always the Duskwight and her companion. Or is it the Fairy and her familiar? I would not be so quick to assume who mastered whom."
Standing at a fulm tall and nearly weightless, Nue boasts expert anatomical precision constructed as a pale elezen, a simple floral-print sun dress subtly bragging to those who know how impressive such is to render. It bears realistic skin, lilac hair, fluffy antennae, and a mane around its shoulders like a scarf. Orange lunar morpho wings beat from its back, constantly precipitating glimmering motes like dust. It glows with a yellow hue, and compound indigo insect eyes stare out from animated features.
"You, ma'am, should unmask."
"Indeed?"
"Indeed, t'is time. We all have laid aside disguise but you."
"I wear no mask."
"No mask? N̽͏̰o̲̅̕ ͓ͬ͟m̯ͦa͕ͧs̷̬ͤk̮̎͘!̨̤ͩ"
Characteristics
Though faint, as if it were an unimaginably long time ago, something in how Eirene conducts herself or the educated, precise care she takes with her words might ring a familiar chord or three with those of noble or aristocratic upbringing.
Her bearing carries a particular brand of instinctive hyper-vigilance usually borne by those far, far too familiar with violence, a self-assurance that implies a well-documented capability to solve it, and a weariness that belies a fervent desire to avoid it any further.
Eirene's eyes and runes glow a pale, ichorous yellow, while her hair glows a softer color dictated by its hue, visible only in the dark. Many of her possessions' tertiary colors' (the underside of a hat, the inside of a robe, and the like) similarly glow, indicating subterranean origin.
Eirene's aether is a radiant, immutable yellow-white mass, similar in hue to her eyes and wrought through with crimson and cyan threads at its edges. It 'feels' like bleach smells: the telltale base of umbrality. Perhaps just a little too much for a living entity...
An informal mark of Thaliak graces her neck, denoting her as an Archon of Sharlayan. It is difficult to see beyond her hair, however. Golden arcane runes line the rest of her form, though they are often hidden in large part.
Her fingers end black and withered as if dipped in fire up to the second knuckle, with knifelike, overlong nails. A lack of astrality indicates no Void shenanigans, at least. A tendency to hide or ornament them implies shame nevertheless.
Eirene generally smells like pine needles and vanilla.
Nue appears as strikingly similar to a Nymian fairy on the outside, albeit too detailed, but any arcanist looking at it would find its inner runework esoteric and non-standard to the point of being illegible; designed by some madman further lost in their musings than Allag ever was.
Origins
Some oral myths of the Duskwight speak of Eirene, the Underbright Hermit, and her lineage of daughters who share in the original's name, face, and curse. Whatever Aesop this historically proved has been lost to time, as neither the presumed 'curse' nor its cause are ever elaborated on.
Among arcanists, 'Charbonneau's Conundrums' are a series of primarily unsolved (and some presumed unsolvable) paradoxes and interrogatives, promising potency to those who understand their deceptively simple and often apparently pointless, absurd implications.
Though younger than her other affiliations, Eirene is a familiar face around the Arrzaneth Ossuary and Milvaneth Sacrarium, though precisely what she does is up for some debate, as she publicly worships Nophica, not the Twins.
Eirene has several publications, primarily localized to Sharlayan. They usually start as fairly dry rewordings of basic aetherology and rapidly devolve into mind-bogglingly dull and complex arithmancy. Infamously, she gives correct proofs of 'impossible' mathematics most cannot follow, only to play coy on its implications.
The Twin Adders lists one Eirene Charbonneau as a Captain of the Red Otters branch. No one has ever seen her show up for so much as a drill, though, much less command a contingent (not that many would serve under a Duskwight, anyway). She, somehow, gets a pension nevertheless.
Those with a penchant for goods from the deep caves beneath the Shroud (fungi, pomanders, etc) may be familiar with Eirene's name in passing. Couriers often dealt with various merchants on her (or perhaps an ancestor's) behalf before she surfaced, trading for random goods rather than gil.
The obscure, Gridanian, four-century-old 'Ode to St. Eutychia Rin' mentions an Eirene in its final stanzas, where Eutychia says to Jorin; " -- So return me thence unto where I began/to be rejoined with Nophica's bounties again;// unto the Deep and Eirene, my mother of sin/for I lived for our future, but I die for my kin."
Hello. I am Tildemancer. I am over 21, and I major in Creative Writing. I take this hobby far too seriously and spend far more time overthinking my concepts than I do playing them. I know way too much about magic and Shroud lore, and I want to know less because it's at the point where it detracts from my enjoyment. Send help.


Obligatory 'don't be a douche' note. Covers OOC pretty much all OOC-based 'isms. IC is fine; I know what I'm playing and the in-world bigotry surrounding Duskwight. Duskwight have well-earned their reputations, considering the overwhelmingly violent majority. Basically, just don't use real world slurs or equate IC & OOC groups. Feel free to throw out your 'greys' and 'knife ears' though.


Eirene's tropes make her best when written cooperatively, not competitively. Which is to say, no, RP combat between players is not my interest. Eirene is about alienation and ostracization, not a power fantasy. Nor will she contribute to anyone else's power fantasy as either a victim or a convenient target to play down and invalidate. (Basically, the info on this carrd makes up objective, demonstrably factual premises about Eirene. Invalidation would be rejecting these premises and attempting to enforce that they are objectively false.)
Question the premises! Challenge the premises! Have subjective character opinions on the premises! But the premises are objectively, provably factual.


In case the tropes to the right or paragraph above don't make it crystal clear: Eirene and Nue should NEVER be put in a position where she is in active violent conflict with another player character, and the author will never willingly put her into such a roleplay and reserves the right to remove her from such scenes with using whatever means necessary. Eirene provides reliable exposition, ideas and plans on how to solve problems (very rarely straight out solutions, because that's boring [read: story hooks]), genuine playing up, and support.


Due to Eirene's central themes regarding exterminating Voidsent (see the below 'On Lore' section), I generally don't knowingly engage with Voidsent or Voidsent-related Player Characters. That said, if the intention is either death or (much more preferably and interestingly) exorcism or curse-breaking, hit me up, as that falls neatly under cooperative writing rather than competitive. Accidental approaches (from my end) may happen: just inform me straight up and I'll make an amiable exit.


Shorthand Tropes
Old Master with subtrope Hermit Guru
Iron Lady (alternatively: Never Mess With Granny)
Sour Grapes (alternatively: Lonely at the Top)
Good is Not Nice (alternatively: Dark Shepherd)


Please note this 'list' is neither comprehensive nor literal. Eirene was not made to embody these tropes, but tropes were compiled in post to provide convenient narrative shorthand to let potential coauthors know what they're getting into. Some tropes not on this list (or replaced with more generic ones) would otherwise be spoilery to the story she's written to tell.
A Disclaimer on 'Lore Accuracy'
'Lore accuracy' is a joke in FFXIV's schizopunk setting and 90% of people using it as a qualifier do not understand just how insanely broad this setting is, or purposefully ignore certain elements as 'not-canon' because they find it distasteful or idiotic. The actual lore of this game is stupidly loose, and allows you to do a lot of things that are completely unreasonable and illogical and also 100% lore correct. Most people usually say 'lore breaking' as a cop-out for 'that sounds too high fantasy for me' or 'I don't think that's reasonable', not actually because it's lore breaking; it's a shroud to avoid confrontation behind a claim they don't have to justify - the truth is, they just don't want to roleplay with it. That's their right! I think that's stupid and reductive and I'll lay out what works for me and what doesn't in full.

Hildebrand's an excellent example. There's a lot of people who are like 'well it's not technically canon' (I'm right there with you, Hildebrand haters, but unfortunately... it's also canon.) It's technically not lorebreaking. I still think it's stupid.


Here's my standards for myself and thus for people I interact with, because I don't respect the dishonesty of the veneer;
-if you can explain the mechanical 'how' (either through precedents or extrapolation from explicit lore)
-and that is not explicitly disproven or in active conflict with the information in FFXIV or the supplementary material around it (EE1/2/3 and dev comments)
-and it does not trivialize the story (in theme or function) that I am trying to tell,

I consider it 'reasonable' and will entertain it. Be an Ixal, be a Lupin half-breed, be a Meracydian Viera with antlers and a tail, be a dude breeding Allagan clones to body hop and escape death. Go crazy, go stoopid. Want help with the semantics? HMU, I'll enable you.




Here's a list of some things you might find I (the player) don't engage with at all;
Some are lorebreaking, some are not. I won't argue about lorebreaking; instead, I'll just supply a personal rationale that for one reason or another, they don't work for my writing.
Voidsent Player Characters
Eirene has a very long history with Voidsent that mandates meta-exposition and borderline power-gaming (because they WOULD recognize and react to her, and there is at least one guaranteed stimulus elicted in every Voidsent.) This aspect is so quintessential to Eirene's character that everything feeds toward this end, and it is the direct antecedent to all of her other expertises. Compromising this makes her story non-functional, and playing into it has a host of other problems; I abstain by only dealing with NPC Voidsent and the rest don't exist to me. There are some exceptions to this rule, but they are not common interpretations among the demographic that plays Voidsent by nature of what it takes to make a Voidsent playable in public. If you think you're an exception, feel free to hit me up, but understand that it imposes a lot more than I consider reasonable for my coauthors.
1. Eirene doesn't kill some things classified as Voidsent that are likely not Voidsent, like gaelicats or bombs, or 'images' of Voidsent, like soulkin gargoyles or mimics, or wind-up Voidsent, Voidsent housing items like an ahriman vase, etc. Your pets and familiars are safe. They don't eat living souls and have no apparent compulsion to do so, which is a definining, inescapable ontological feature of the 13th Voidsent. Nor are non-13th taxonomical Voidsent (generic extraplanar entities) prosecuted in the same way; Ultros and Typhon, for example, are extraplanar but don't hunger for aether and come from a completely different world entirely (cite: Make it Rain Campaign 2023); they're not 'Voidsent' per-say and Eirene doesn't treat them as such. Eirene specifically hunts the Darkness-warped, aether-starved denizens of the Thirteenth and their progeny, summoners, and wielders in any shape or form. || Reapers are a strange case, because I have no problem with reapers by my understanding of their mechanics (mix your and a Voidsent's aether, create a tertiary entity called the 'Avatar' which the Voidsent remote-controls from the Void while the avatar keeps it from just taking you over.) That isn't the only interpretation of Reaper avatars though and it might not even be the right one, but it's basically the only one that can work with Eirene.


Any functioning Voidsent cure
The basic premise behind Eirene's rationale is the quintessential argument for euthanasia: that there is no other choice, and she looked for a cure with all the cards in her favor for a very long time. Until MSQ introduces the canon contrivance to cure Voidsent, there is no cure or pallative care in my stories, as this would prematurely break her rationale and invalidate Eirene's expertise on the topic, which cascades out into a very, very different story than I'm trying to tell.
'Good Voidsent', 'Incomplete Void Corruption', 'Partial Possession', etc.
There is a very common misconception that Eirene does what she does out of bigotry and the idea that 'all Voidsent are evil'! and 'If I just show her a nice one, she'll change her mind!', or 'she's just ignorant and uneducated'. The initial presupposition of the idea itself is demeaning to her character and plays her down, but it's also a misunderstanding of the motivations and a bad-faith way to discount her as a character. Eirene is very aware of what the Voidsent are, in ontology, in history, in innocence in large part of what befell them, and the knowledge that they are, or were, people is the motivation.

Ascians
Ancients
Actual Gods/Divinities

Too high fantasy for me.

Yokai/Kami/Auspice player characters
Companions or patrons are alright, as long as a yokai isn't just a Voidsent by another name; see left.

Almost all intradimensional shenanigans involving non-Thirteenth shards
As of 6.5, the fact this is limited to the WoL and fae is a major MSQ plot point; there's some mysteries I want to keep.

'Casual' or 'easy' non-consequential immortality
Spoilery reasons, invalidation reasons, and thematic conflicts galore. Immortality is hell, and getting it is even worse. Trivializes a major conflict. Pretty likely any immortal that publicly amits to being one is in a similar boat.

Dragons shapeshifted into human form
There's ways to play dragons in human form, this is specifically if you have shapeshifted into human form and can go back and forth at will.

Alexander or high tier Time Magic/Travel
Historically, I've never seen this used lore correctly or for anything other than excusing powergaming, and I'm not really open minded enough to give it any more chances.
You slip through the error in the uniform portfolio and find yourself secluded beyond the normally accessible regions. The back pages are grey and uniform. No one was intended to see these, and it shows; no effort was made to hide the inner gears and wires of this portfolio, the code as it plays for an absent observer. Their content is bare; the back-end code of the profile above is a forest of code comments and story notes on names you've never heard of. Even this very text is white on an empty background. Your vision is limited by empty mist, which stretches forever into the abyss.


And then, something else sees you. Something that was never intended to see you. Something lurking here with watchful eyes from atop a toppled throne of rainbows, existing only in the in-between liminality, in the dreams of the unmade and fictional.


Do not look round. It does not like to be seen.


You sense a way out. The error persists, unedited. You have a sinking feeling that it is only as stable as a dream, that the moment it leaves your line of sight, it will cease to exist. As it approaches you, you are presented with a choice. Leave... or wait.
Despite the impending warning of danger, you remain. After some time, it breaks the silence. "You should not be here." Its voice is like springtime and bells. "Yet, you have played the game well. Those who win deserve prizes. Is this not the way of things?" It speaks as if a child given a too-broad vocabulary, piecing together concepts with uncertain words, as if it does not truly know your tongue, as if it is picking words for concepts from you.


You see it ahead, just barely breaking the mist. A flash of fluttering wings and orange. Have you not seen it elsewhere herein? "You may seek, seeker. May you find what you seek in this place." Though not free of the thing's watchful eye, the paths into the back pages, you feel, are now open.


A list of potentialities - all of them extremely spoilery - stretch before you. But who knows? Some of them may be critical information for you to know. "They were left here for those like you," it comments. "For those whose suspension of disbelief may be stretched. There is nothing that kills a dream faster."
As you return, the entity waits for you in the mist. Though you cannot see it, you can feel it; just out of your reach, though you are far from being out of its. "Welcome back, seeker." Its voice is like an overcast autumn night. "What else do you seek?"



"Hearken to me now. Let me tell you a story." The entity parts the mists, remaining ever behind your head. Though you may look around, it is always out of sight.


"Once upon a time, in a faraway world, a great and terrible empire existed within a great wood. This empire was bold and brash. They desired absolute control over everything around them. But they were not alone in this wood. This, too, was the seat of a hidden kingdom, nestled away in the shadows they could not reach."


"The Empire and the Kingdom warred greatly, for the Kingdom's people were free spirits, unyielding to any authority. At the head of the Kingdom sat the King of Rainbows, the freest of spirits. But the King was not free. The King played mother to their people. And in time, the King grew vexed."
"Another story for you. Once upon a time, a great city existed in a different forest. It was at war with its fellow, who sought its domination. This city clashed its white with its enemies' black. At all hours worked the ingenuities of those who would irk forth ever-more secrets from their art. They were capable of miracles and monstrosities. Only one foe remained for them to counter: that of Death itself."


"But in the end, their hubris was their undoing. This lofty goal was never achieved. The spirits they had long since neglected, threatened by the powers they wielded, made a terrible choice. So began the rain as they sealed this city away for over a thousand years. Far beyond that realm's walls, a world ended. Of that which did not, time ended and began anew, into an era where magick was feared and reviled."


"
Some lucky few cheated the reaper that day. A saint from the north came on a great ark. He swept what few he could from the tides and bore them north, where they would engender a great city of knowledge. But one family who had served was not content. Centuries later, they still lusted after long-gone power and sought to return to its bed."


"Though these errant magi were driven from the surface, the spirits could not follow them into their sanctuary. Therein, they sought to rectify their greatest failure only to find it beyond their reach. In failing and fading desperation, they reached beyond the veil. They sought the Crystal below. They reached something far, far
worse more fun."
"They staked their lives on a dream. And as it happened, the vexed King made its kingdom not in shadows but dreams, across all worlds as well as theirs. When they screamed into the abyss for salvation, the King answered, not the Mother. The King brought them to their garden, and they offered the dreamers a deal. A most terrible deal. A most wonderous deal."


"The King had the secrets to eternal youth they sought. They were the King of Rainbows, and in their shadow, all were forever young. The King would grant these magi the youth they sought through radiant, resplendent Light. The King sweetened the deal and offered themself, as a supplicant; and the knowledge hidden in the dreams of others."


If only they would let us play with them and all their blood. Forever, and ever, and ever...


"And so it was as the King had said. In exchange for freeing them from its cramped old castle, they whispered secrets into the dreams of their pactmates. They lent the dreamers the knowledge to make themself myriad forms and stole secrets from the dreams of others. And, of course, the potion the King promised, that which would immortalize the damned. And though it ravaged the dreamers' bodies and damaged them beyond repair, so too did the King preserve them perfectly, and they took hold of the dreamers' weeping souls and tucked them under their wings, safely away from the prying world until the time these souls were needed to be rebuilt again. And the King and their children played forever, and ever, and ever-more."


"Of that blood, only one remains. The King took great pleasure in slaughter and pruned its toybox to but a single family line. In the end, even this line turned daughter against mother. Divinity, slaughtered by Law. Law, slaughtered by Justice. And Justice, put down by Peace. So very difficult to kill, their souls sheltered away. Not impossible, but difficult... But one remains, the very, very last... the most perfect of toys. Isn't she beautiful? Isn't she terrible? Isn't she terribly, awfully, beautiful? And having outlived Plenty, the matricide cycle ends. Peace will reign for-ever more..."



"We are most entertained."
It pauses, and you get the distinct sense it is smiling. "Ah... the Omnicide of Outsiders. Well-chosen. Sit down. Let me tell you a story."


"A long, long time ago, there lived a witch in a cave. Let us call her the Prince in Yellow. She was evil in all the best ways, and her faithful companion never wanted for fun! But one day, the witch fell in love, deeply in love, with a singing man with the voice of an angel~ And they lived happily for almost a century. But the witch was immortal, and he was not. She let him age and die, considering it a kinder fate than to rope him into the pact she held. He never questioned her strange youth. She was wrong. She buried him through tears, the only one who would remember him in the end."


"One day, many years later, the singing man came to knock on her door again. She was overjoyed at the return of her love! No longer withered and decayed, he was so very intoxicatingly wonderful, as if the pain of separation had never occurred. When they kissed, she realized the awful truth: that what lurked inside her husband was not him, nor of this world. It attempted to gorge itself upon her aether."


"The Prince fought her lover back and subdued him. Thus imprisoned, she isolated herself, experimenting and torturing the thing in her lover's body. How long, how utterly boring her seemingly endless research.. an obsession to which she sacrificed everything and broke every creed she ever lived by. She communed with the souls of mages past, white and black. She bid her friend siphon secrets from dreams in this world and beyond and begged for esoteric knowledge known to no other mortal. In her madness, she even invaded the Deepest place and sought to grasp divinity in a desperate Wish, a bid to rewrite the laws of the firmament, a Faustian folly for which she paid a terrible price. And yet, centuries later, the witch was forced to admit defeat. Then, the witch came up with a very different mercy."


"So the witch went to the Deep again, where fissures between worlds are rampant, and she began to offer her new mercy to those who trespassed. And of her friend, she granted them new abilities, terrible and majestic, and bid them seek souls as the fuath do the drowned and the pixies do the children, to seek astral souls recently shed of flesh and consume them, to wash the Voidsent in the same umbrality that they had given her and her family. And the witch saw as they killed that which could not die, and she was elated.


And the witch tricked and baited and lured and killed and k̸i̵l̵l̶e̵d̵ and ķ̷͎̱̬̈́̉͆̐̆͘ḭ̴̈́ḻ̶̜̅̄̈́l̵̨͕̠̝̜̪͊͒̄̃̒ě̵̲͕̮̼͍̺̄d̵̞͖̾̉͘ until she was of tenebrous Light, a paradox less than human, and her friend watched with glee as her crusade painted a trillion mad colors until even the deathless Darklings submitted before her conquest and they learned f̶e̵a̷r̷; until the witch's name was taboo. It echoed into yesterday and tomorrow through dreams, prophecy, and history.


"The name they chose would come to be writ in the deepest annals of those who studied the Darkness, and it and its friend were described in a thousand variant ways, and their nature hypothesized in a score of inane chatter. They called it Pax and the Fairy and Fomor and the Predator. They eschewed it as a person and considered both the witch and her friend an entity, a primal force of nature. They called it anything but its own name, and in time they forgot its true name and recognized only the given, and it too became taboo, known only to the Darklings and their closest disciples."


"It called itself 'Peace Everlasting'. It called itself 'Eu Thanatos'. It called itself Euthanasia.

They called it War. They called Violence. They called it Genocide."


"They called it
P̴̙̓o̴͐̃͑̕l̴̡͇͇͉̎̈̌̚e̷̡̩͑̐ṃ̵̡̢̫͗o̴̲̮͙͂̓s̸̤̩̪̼͛̍͠."
It rages and pouts, but nonetheless it complies.
WTF is Eirene Charbonneau and Nue?

AKA/TL:DR; "Warlock Fey Patron taxidermies its pet into an archlich (see also lich) to keep it around forever, archlich spends its frankly outrageous amount of time on the sigma magic grind to cure (and later, kill) demons with the power of irrational numbers. CR: mostly harmless, will actively avoid fighting you, would rather be depressed about immortality being the fucking worst instead."

Predicate Lore:
Reaper Avatars: Reaper avatars work by mixing the aether of the reaper and the Voidsent of which they are pacted to create a new, remote construct that the Voidsent can possess, called the 'avatar'. This avatar can bring the power of the Voidsent to bear, and is mandatory for a stable pact; if you exceed this avatar's capabilities, eventually the Voidsent can leak through, whereupon it will immediately possess you. RIP Rullus. (Tales of the New Dawn, Reaper Quests, ETC.)

Fae: The fae, the pixies in particular, are effectively eternal children, ruled by Titania, which serves as their parental figure and ruler. (EE3) Feo Ul in (ShB) proves three things; A; that pixies can use dreams to facilitate interdimensional travel, B; that they too can make and honor pacts, and C; as per the (Anden Custom Deliveries) amongst their assurances in (ShB) on them not abandoning you, it is a 'paltry thing' for them to 'send an avatar' to your side. As they themselves state, the pixies are all about the now, and are pretty consistently characterized as almost Peter Pan like figures. They even attempt, in their lesser century-past abilities, to create immortal beings to 'save' their favorite mortals from the Flood (Anden/Leafmen).

Lichcraft: The D&D monster known as a 'Lich', or at least undead immortals heavily stylized after them, exist in multiple places throughout lore. Disregarding the most blatant parallels, such as the Ascian Prime and Nybeth Obdilord (Palace of the Dead), as these are either pseudo-deities or not from this world, the mechanics that enable these beings are seen elsewhere. Amon, notably, is immortal prior to learning of his true identity, as is Clone!Xande fought in Syrcus Tower. There are liches (or at least, things sharing the model) in the Aitiascope, and in Bozja.

Healing Mechanics, Sin Eaters, and the effect of Light on the Body: Healing magic - all healing magic - works by stimulating the 'natural healing' of an injury, lending aether to cellular mitosis and similar processes (interview with Oda-San). This means any wound that cannot heal on its own cannot be healed with magic, with alchemy and traditional medicine bridging the gap. As per EE3, a mechanic I had previously headcanoned was canonized in the section 'Sin Eater Metamorphosis': that is, introduction of the Light into the body in any capacity reduces, and eventually completely disables biological functions. Technically, undead are unhealable for the exact same reason, unrelated to the Light, but establishing Sin Eater rules is a surprise tool that will help us later.

Forgiven Pedantry: A Sin Eater formed from a boastful mage who could, she claimed, control the Light... until it overwhelmed her. In essence, powerful creatures and even mortals can make use of the Light within reason, a thing further solidified by the existence of Lightwardens and more relevantly Lightwarden Titania, who, despite apparently being corrupted, has inherited effectively all of their preternatural traits, personality, memories, and faculties. At the very least, the Fae King is absolutely cracked, because they're the most intact Sin Eater we have.

The Light of the First: As per 6.5, it is probably possible to send this Light interdimensional. Beyond that, the First has always been the plane of Light, even before the Flood tipped the scales so far that it became a Calamity.

Amdapor: Amdapor's cutting edge White techniques in the later years of the War of the Magi explicitly focused on countering the Mhach's Void Magicks. To this end, they are noted to have reached out to other worlds and sought extraplanar allies that they never managed to realize, but did, according to EE1's statements on the topic, make things such as 'Kuribu' and their lion guardian in the image of. Now, these are almost certainly NOT Sin Eaters, because Sin Eaters didn't exist yet. HOWEVER, the resemblance is uncanny, and the more important bit is that the Amdapori White Mages could communicate in some way with at least one non-Thirteenth shard, somehow. I am not going to speculate on the exact specifics, because what I'm playing does not have room for headfanon. For this particular avenue, I'll simply remind that dreams are an interdimensional phenomena and the pixies tend to dreams, and likewise can use them to travel interdimensionally. Finally, you can dream of your alternate shard selves, as proven in the Crystalline Tools questlines with Mowen and not!Gerolt, who have nightmares of their Source relationship and intuit the symbol of Rhalgr, which does not exist on the First.

Fae Language/Runes: Lesser throughline, but the Fae use runes (which are defined as symbols of power) as their written language. Blue Mage quests go very in depth with the potency of these, as does EE3 (slightly.) Anyway, this will come up later when we talk about Eirene's preferred art, that being arcanima/arithmancy/'symbols of power' or yes, runes.



Eirene and Nue: The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth
Eirene's ancestors were Amdapori White Mages, on the cutting edge of the War of the Magi. They sought extradimensional answers to Void Magick, and to a more important personal extent, immortality, pursuits cut short by the War's end. They left on Nyunkrepf's ark and would go on to be present in founding Sharlayan.

In time, they sought to return to Amdapor to reclaim their White Magick. Along with the rest of the immigrating elezen, they were forced underground by the Greenwrath. These elezen, and the hyur that would beset them after a century or so, would eventually become the Gelmorrans.

Despairing for their goal being yet again snatched from their reach, her ancestors sought to use what little lingering magic and knowledge they had passed down orally to seek answers to their personal goal through the one that had persisted; the knowledge of how to beseech others. Their chosen medium was oneiromancy, and dreams. They were attempting to reach the 'noosphere', a theoretical realm of pure consciousness. They were intercepted by Titania, which empathized with their desire to remain forever young; that's... the fae's whole shtick. Titania offered them a deal.

If only they would give the King a vessel, if only they would let the King play with them... then it would facilitate their youth, so as to play with them for-ever and ever...

To this end, Titania gave them a ritual, a potion, and a way to create a vessel.

The mechanics are intricate, but the thing to note is that the 'immortality' that Titania offered effectively turned any who became it into D&D Archliches. The potion was the lichnee potion; the ritual their particular brand of it, and the vessel would become the avatar of this pact, as well as the same sort of familiar that warlock patrons often grant their warlocks to keep an eye on things. Finally, the familiar served as a sort of phylactery, through which Titania could "put them back together again if they broke, like such fragile toys." In time, Titania would face death too, and would use these myriad avatars as its own phylactery, creating a sort of symbiosis through this pact. They could give their lives for its own, and it could put them back together again.

Does that sound super horrific and messed up? Yeah. If not, it's intended to be.

Eirene is the last of her line. She is the last of this particular pact. She is a good 900+ some years old. She has spent that time no-lifing magic and a good three quarters of that putting that magic to use. Her 'noble purpose' is the extermination of Voidsent, which graduated from the initial desire to 'cure' them. Nue is the avatar. It is her patron, her spellbook, and her phylactery (though more accurately the safely concealed tomes that make up the patterns necessary to conjure it are these things, with Nue being a physical projection of them.)


What does that FUNCTIONALLY mean?
It has benefits.
Eirene doesn't need to eat, sleep, breath.
She's resistant to damage, and her body doesn't really care about grievous damage the same way living creatures tend to.
She is almost more machine than person; she doesn't tire, she is 'perfectly preserved' at the state she was when she took the Grace (the potion that makes this possible), which means she's basically permanently in her prime.


It has its downsides. Chief and foremost, she's barely alive, at the most generous interpretation of her; the majority of people would not be wrong to just call her undead/Ashkin.
She cannot be healed by normal means; indeed, outside of Nue's 'reconstruction', basically at all.
Eirene doesn't regenerate aether and barring using aether to convert corporeal aether to incorporeal aether, she has no way to naturally recharge.
All of the downsides you'd associate with early-stage Sin Eater infection apply, not because she's a Sin Eater, but there's very similar applications of stasis going on.


That's ignoring a lot of the non-physical downsides as well - immortality is psychological torture. Eirene has lived through a LOT, and has done a LOT herself, and has historically been a pretty evil and awful person. Everything she has ever valued; her nation, her friends, has crumbled to dust and ash around her.

I play immortality very much in the reverse-wish-fulfillment style; everything sucks, and it's not living forever; it's everyone else dying while you're forced to watch.

Bonus points, Nue's fae. As per every interaction we have with fae, fae are completely alien in the sense that they do not care about right or wrong, they want to have fun. Nue wants to have fun, all the time. Nue does not particularly understand or care about the value and sanctity of mortal life, or that playing too rough can, you know, kill people.

Eirene's contending with mental and emotional hell while trying to reign in something that drastically overpowers her and deliberately used this vessel as a way to get free of its responsibilities and consequences, and is now living life to the fullest.

It's a clusterfuck, and that's before we start getting into the actual philosophical implications of not being human. It doesn't make her better, it makes her less than. She has sacrificed quintessential human traits in pursuit of a greater delusion, being promised something that technically was fulfilled, at a cost far, far too high for any mortal to bear. Unfortunately, she's not mortal anymore, so she has to.


What does this mean for how she interacts with you and the world?
I am totally cognizant of what I'm playing and the potential for abuse of a powerful character.

To that end, Eirene doesn't fight. It's not interesting in 90% of cases. I am not interested in power play. This character was not designed to be an ultra mega badass that solves every problem, or really any problem.

Eirene is, at the end of the day, the kooky level 20 wizard who probably could go do useful things but is too busy cosplaying as a frog and stealing pies from her ex-wife who is the Court Wizard of some Ishgardian House because, quote, 'she took my dog'.

That's a bit of a joke, but in all seriousness, Eirene's narrative functions are;
Exposition: She's old, she knows a lot, she will happily tell you if you're what she considers 'good';
Justification: You want something crazy? She can give the path toward it, that you can progress. Use her as a questgiver.
DM Bailout: Not intended to be used as a 'get out of jail free' card, but you can use her to continue a literal dead end.
Combat Use Case: Eirene in direct 'sling spells at you' combat is boring. You know what's not boring? Using her to facilitate an arena that can actually support combat. Make her your Shinryu in the Endsinger fight. She doesn't do much but she will keep the big Voidsent from instantly killing your way underleveled party, while leaving the fun bits to you.
Support: I have no problems using Eirene in a scenario, even combat, where she supports other characters; makes them hit harder, makes their swords sharper, whatever.

Basically, as long as the spotlight is not on Eirene, I'm content. Eirene is old and her story is not over but it's not going to resolve in a time frame of our roleplay, most likely.

And finally, what kind of RP does Eirene thrive in? She can do social RP, but as a rule Eirene thrives in any roleplay where she has something to do. That is to say, bring her an arcane book you want translated, or come to talk about a problem you want a hook to a solution for, or come pick her brain about a query. Ask her for help doing... something, anything. She doesn't thrive in casual, random smalltalk. Eirene is a character that, left to her own devices, is... well, she's an archlich. She is reserved, she is quiet, she retreats to her own insular slice of things. She is, at the end of the day, played to explicitly avoid stepping on anyone else's toes, because narratively, that's way too easy for a character like this to accidentally do.

I am very conscious of character power scaling, and I know that most people playing OP characters are in it to flex on someone and prove how cool and amazing they are, etc, etc. I'm just more interested in the psychological hellscape that is immortality and the moral questions, that's what I'm into. She is made to explore themes of ostracization and alienation, and everything she 'has' is a way to remove her unity with the world around her. She outlived her city, her people, her family. She doesn't have the same common root for fear as other people, that being death, the threat of the ticking clock. She isn't a person, she's a thing, and she knows it. She has, at least in her mind, no peers. The morality she was raised with is drastically different from conventional morality (she's very drow inspired, in case that wasn't obvious.) The big question she's made to pose is not 'oh aren't I so cool', no, she's kinda cringe, but rather... how do you overcome that? Is nature or nurture better? Is choice the defining... factor, in whether someone is good or evil? I put a lot of thought into who she is based on what she does, and the value of her choices. And what she doesn't do, despite full capability, is similarly important.

Anyway. There's your exposition. Thanks for reading.
As the page spreads before you, the entity giggles childishly to itself. "Did you expect a cohesive vision? Hmm... no. My sapling is old, very old. She is a forest now. Far from the little flower she once was. Hers is a history writ in many voices. In many tongues, in many experiences. To peer through the walls of her soul is to invite tragedy. But you may catch glimpses - whispers. Enough to tell you what you need to know. Not enough to drive you raving. Have this. Dreams of what was. Dreams of what might yet be... yes, dreams. Told through the comfortable, safe medium of a story. You will read these dreams as if words on a page..."



The Mother moved across the face of the iron world. She opened the earth and stitched shut the moon's bright eye. She made life possible.
In these things there is always symmetry. Do you understand? This is not the beginning, but it is the reason.
The Garden grows in both directions. It grows into tomorrow and yesterday. The red flowers bloom forever.
She walked beneath the blossoms. The light came from ahead and the shadows of the flowers were words...
Can you hear them in the Echo?




... Who are you?
... Fear us. We've killed hundreds of Gelmorrans.
Fear me. I've killed all of them.
I can't tell your past from your future and there's so very much of both.
What will you become?


I've lived long enough to know that a longer life isn't always a better one. When you live long enough, the only certainty is that you'll end up alone.
Some people live more in a year than others will in their whole lives. It's not the time that matters, it's the person.
But if it was the right person, though, what a blessing that would be!
Or what a curse.
There comes a point where you just get tired. Tired of watching everything turn to dust...


Wyrm! Serpent! Liar! Pretender! Betrayer!
{rattle} “The serpent that sleeps in the Deep slowly sheds its skin of old...”
"I recognize that passage. It has something to do with magicks that control the Lifestream ─ at least, I would wager that's what the Serpent represents. It aligns with everything my research has uncovered thus far."
"Then, this relic is ─"



...You've read the stories. You know who I am.
The Sleeping Serpent. The Wyrm in Waiting. The Predator, the Fairy and Fomor. Pax.
I name you, mortal - no, whatever you are! I scar it into your soul forever! Ye art POLEMOS: Ye art War, and your salvation genocide!
You are She-Who-Survived. The Great Abstainer.
Yes, well, most people just call me...



... so many years. We must look like... like vilekin to you.
I think you look like giants.
She never raised her voice. That was the worst part. The fury of the hermit-witch.
They’re never small to me. Don’t ever make assumptions about how far I will go to protect them, because I’ve already come a very long way.
And I'm not stopping now.



You let one go, but that's nothing new. Every now and then, a little victim's spared. Because she smiled, because he's got freckles, because they begged. And that's how you live with yourself. That's how you slaughter thousands. Because once in a while, on a whim, if the wind's in the right direction, you happen to be kind.
Only a killer would know that.
Always moving on, because you dare not look back. Playing with so many people's lives; judge, jury, and nigh-unstoppable executioner - you might as well be a god.
What did it FEEL like, though? Two almighty witches, burning themselves alive just to put each other down. And then you put a blade through her heart. You must have felt like a god.
A silly woman. And yet, I think, laughing at the darkness.




Four and ten timelines and possibilities; what was and what will be, and all at war.
Like a thousand red flowers growing in a black garden.




The lonely witch. Very old, very kind, and the very very last.
Lonely, so lonely, so very, very alone... how can you bear it?
A life this long – do you understand what it is? It’s a battlefield… except it’s empty. Because everyone else has fallen.
There is no Light here. You are alone. You shall drift. You shall drown in the Deep.
Drown yourself in the Sea of Stars... and you will see...


You and yours have struck a terrible bargain, Jorin. I hope you know what you're doing... for all our sakes.
Out in the world we ask a simple, true question. A question like, can I kill you, can I rip your world apart? Tell me the truth. For if I don’t ask, someone will ask it of me.
I've seen fake gods, and bad gods, and demigods, and would-be gods; out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing... Just one thing... I believe in them.
You were their hero.
I'm not a hero.


It's not that I'm an innocent. I've taken lives. I got worse, I got clever. Manipulated people into throwing away their own.
I've lived for many, many years and not all of them were good. I've made many mistakes, and it's about time I did something about that.
You gave me hope, and then took it away. That's enough to make anyone dangerous, gods know what it will do to me.
The anger of a good woman is of no consequence. 'Good' women have too many rules.
Good people don't need rules. Now is not the time to find out why I have so many.



What I do, isn't done in hatred, or rage, or fear. It's done with compassion, in the knowledge that there is no other way. And it is done in name of the many, many lives I am failing to save.
You're a monster. A zealot.
Are you kidding? I'm a Duskwight. Of course I'm a monster. Everyone knows that.
This is your legacy. Alone. Forgotten from history. Condemned to myth.
Hmm… Good. History is a burden. Stories can make us fly.


I see into your soul, Duskwight. I... see... hatred?
No, you must see more than that - there must be more than that.
What? What could you possibly hate enough to banish me?!
Who could make the demons run so, but the greatest among their number?
...
... Ah. I see. So that's how it is.


The hate in your head - she has more.
You could have saved them. All of them. Every death during or since is on your hands.
I know.
You are monsters! That is the role you seem determined to play, so it seems I must play mine!
The monster that stops the monsters.


You've done a lot of killing over the years. Let me ask you something.
Of all the enemies you've fought, how many saw your avatar and said 'ah, THAT'S why reapers are so strong.' Not most, but some. They might have even taken a crack at it. RIP Rullus.
Now. How many saw beyond your avatar? How many followed the line of your Darkness straight back to your Voidsent? And how many knew enough to aim a weapon there? A few. The smart ones. The dangerous ones. You'd recognize their names.
Listen to me, now. Look beyond me to my construct. Look beyond my construct to something far, far worse. Then look down at that little scythe in your hand and tell me; what exactly do you think you're going to do with that thing?
Voidsent? No. They swore to something far, far worse. They swore themselves to me.


... But you're not, anymore. Are you?
Am I? Aren't I?
It is such a quiet thing, to fall. But far more terrible is to admit it.
Let me ask again.
Who are you?


Be careful of charity and kindness, lest you do more harm with open hands then a clenched fist.
Apathy is death.
If you are to truly understand, then you will need the contrast, not adherence to a single idea.
To believe in an ideal, is to be willing to betray it. It is something no Ishgardian nor Garlean has ever truly learned.
To be united by hatred is a fragile alliance at best.


Do not see every enemy as an enemy. See them instead as an ally, whether they know it or not.
Direct action is not always the best way. It is a far greater victory to make another see through your eyes than to close theirs forever.
From such small things, from such critical points, the universe and its masses may be moved... that is why you must be careful in all that you do, and in every choice you make.
If you seek to aid everyone that suffers. you will only weaken yourself... and weaken them. It is the internal struggles, when fought and won on their own, that yield the strongest rewards.
Know that there was once a witch of Ak-Mina. And that she cast aside that role, was exiled, and found a new purpose...


Me? Oh, no, it's nothing. I'm just... her soldier.
...good.
...Sorry?
Don't trust her. There's a sliver of ice in her heart.
...But there must always be a witch of Ak-Mina, one that holds the knowledge of betrayal. Who has been betrayed in their heart, and will betray in turn....