Archives of Nethys
The pain of loss, the weight of grief, the anguish which swallows the fire-ice of feeling and leaves the barest tatters of memories, the bitterness unspoken that yearns for the sweetness of a particular ear, the irresolute comforts granted by remnants of ritual and duress of duty as unending indignities accrete into unmoving monuments of familiarity: such are the bleak associations flitting about the Lost Prince, whispering unkindnesses thicker than the shadows of his dismal domain.
There's far more to the Prince than rumination over interminable agonies and obsession with the shambles of decorum. His retinue consists of large numbers of devoted servants, seemingly unliked and yet quietly aided by their patron in their loneliest moments. Outside his Crumbling Tower's groaning walls, lines of diplomats await, carrying missives that cajole or threaten, and bearing every tribute imaginable. Meager or mighty, these delegates are feted with a drearily perfunctory courtesy. Their requests and demands, no matter how captivating or coercive, he barely hears, yet never ignores. Their gifts he receives politely, then leaves them to languish in some dusty corner alongside all the others over the ages. Almost invariably, all are turned away.
Yet despite the Lost Prince's assiduous rejections, there remains an unremitting stream of those seeking audience with him. His courtiers have, in a semiserious exercise of empiricism, noted patterns in the appeals that are more or less likely to intrigue their ruler. Those who suffer desolation and isolation, cast adrift and alone by the exigencies of fate, homed only in humility's dregs— these tremulous few the Prince bequests a downcast murmur, whereupon they're escorted out of his sight and ably aided by his subjects and servants.
Further insight into the Prince's quietism can be inferred from a rare gift he granted a mortal vengeance-seeker, long ago. “What of them, once you are done? Would you have them so bereft, like you?” When she acceded, so did he, in exchange for her loyal service. Her campaign was vindicated, leaving a single survivor, who, too, sought the Lost Prince's favor. Instead of revenge, the survivor desired only shelter. The Prince agreed and left their care to the vengeance-seeker—a painful arrangement all around. The Melancholy Lord well knows it's not dying which brings suffering, but killing and surviving. He accepts all those who have no one else.
Category Eldest
Edicts Aid the depressed, wear somber clothing, maintain neutrality, ruminate on the past
Anathema Abandon someone who has no family, take public credit for your good deeds
Areas of Concern Forgotten things, sadness, solitude
Religious Symbol Crumbling black tower
Sacred Animal Raven
Sacred Color(s) Black, gray
Devotee Benefits
Divine Attribute Intelligence or WisdomDivine Font harm or heal
Divine Sanctification none
Divine Skill Society
Favored Weapon staff
Domains knowledge, repose, sorrow, vigil
Alternate Domains introspection
Cleric Spells 1st: soothe, 4th: rewrite memory, 5th: wave of despair
Shelyn's Corner
×Classic Feel
Classic Feel
Classic Feel
The classic look for the Archives of Nethys.
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Book Feel
Book Feel
Book Feel
An alternative feel, based on the Rulebooks.
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Round Feel
Round Feel
Round Feel
A rounded, modern look for the archives.
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Slim Feel
Slim Feel
Slim Feel
A variant of the Round feel, more compact.
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