Jean Riudaure is not the only person in Avistan to have devoted his life and soul to the overthrow of the Infernal Empire only to have someone else do it so fast he barely had a chance to notice. No, actually, there are kind of a lot of those. He is, at eighth circle, one of the most powerful, and as Lastwall’s spymaster, he’s supposed to be one of the best-informed. It was, he supposes, hardly shocking that the Duchess de Litran, part of an adventuring party that included at least two archmages and according to rumor an archmage herself, might have been planning to make a bid for the throne—really, the Four-Day War was entirely predictable. It’s just that, when it actually happened, it still left him feeling like he had gotten something terribly, colossally wrong.

It’s been the better part of a year, now, since Egorian fell (literally, in an archmage-triggered earthquake), and six months since the bizarre day in which Arazni had summoned the Tarrasque to Westcrown, had a public swordfight with the new Queen of Cheliax, and then told Alexeara Cansellarion that said Queen was actually a nine-hundred-year-old Evil archmage who had once been in love with the mortal Iomedae. (Lastwall had, obviously, checked Arazni’s claims via Commune; Iomedae confirmed they were true. Which must have been a little awkward if that’s still a way Iomedae is capable of feeling at all.) Cansellarion won’t discuss what the Hell else happened that day; obviously, he has good reasons, and they don’t push him on it.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Cansellarion. He really does. It’s just that this situation is INCREDIBLY SUSPICIOUS. The revelations about Litran do, at least, rule out some of his theories, like that she’s an archdevil in disguise and the war for Cheliax was a proxy for a war between factions in Hell. It seems likelier, now, that Arazni was in on it, and the public fight with Her was a deception; ancient archmages who are actually trying to kill each other don’t use swords, obviously.

The lich-goddess who was once Arazni, he knows, almost certainly wants the world destroyed. It’s something Lastwall has been tracking since they first learned of the horror that Geb had wrought centuries ago. And it’s not so implausible that an otherwise Good adventuring party might have decided that the suffering in the Evil afterlives outweighs the good in the rest of Creation, and decided to release Rovagug, distracting the gods with enormous public defeats of His soon-to-be-irrelevant spawn. In which case—it may be that the only reason the world still exists is that Asmodeus, at the last, appealed to the party and offered to lessen the torments of Hell to a level they would find tolerable. Cansellarion can’t talk about it, because Asmodeus wouldn’t have done this if it would have become known that He could be moved in this way. And from Cansellarion’s perspective, this is fine—a great and glorious triumph, even, hardly lessened by the fact that no one will ever know about it. But Alexeara Cansellarion doesn’t have to choose between permanent cessation and inevitable damnation. Jean Riudaure, for his part, is going to figure out what’s actually going on.

Jean Riudaure is not the only person in Avistan to have devoted his life and soul to the overthrow of the Infernal Empire only to have someone else do it so fast he barely had a chance to notice. No, actually, there are kind of a lot of those. He is, at eighth circle, one of the most powerful, and as Lastwall’s spymaster, he’s supposed to be one of the best-informed. It was, he supposes, hardly shocking that the Duchess de Litran, part of an adventuring party that included at least two archmages and according to rumor an archmage herself, might have been planning to make a bid for the throne—really, the Four-Day War was entirely predictable. It’s just that, when it actually happened, it still left him feeling like he had gotten something terribly, colossally wrong.

It’s been the better part of a year, now, since Egorian fell (literally, in an archmage-triggered earthquake), and six months since the bizarre day in which Arazni had summoned the Tarrasque to Westcrown, had a public swordfight with the new Queen of Cheliax, and then told Alexeara Cansellarion that said Queen was actually an immortal evil archmage, which a Commune confirmed. Cansellarion won’t discuss what the Hell else happened that day; obviously, he has good reasons, and they don’t push him on it.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Cansellarion. He really does. It’s just that this situation is INCREDIBLY SUSPICIOUS. The revelations about Litran don't do anything to contradict his theory that she’s an archdevil in disguise and the war for Cheliax was a proxy for a war between factions in Hell, though, on the other hand, there are a lot of ancient mysterious powers on Golarion and most of them aren't Mephistopheles. It seems likelier, now, that Arazni was in on it, and the public fight with Her was a deception; ancient archmages who are actually trying to kill each other don’t use swords, obviously.

The lich-goddess who was once Arazni, he knows, almost certainly wants the world destroyed. It’s something Lastwall has been tracking since they first learned of the horror that Geb had wrought centuries ago. And it’s not so implausible that an otherwise Good adventuring party might have decided that the suffering in the Evil afterlives outweighs the good in the rest of Creation, and decided to release Rovagug, distracting the gods with enormous public defeats of His soon-to-be-irrelevant spawn. In which case—it may be that the only reason the world still exists is that Asmodeus, at the last, appealed to the party and offered to lessen the torments of Hell to a level they would find tolerable. Cansellarion can’t talk about it, because Asmodeus wouldn’t have done this if it would have become known that He could be moved in this way. And from Cansellarion’s perspective, this is fine—a great and glorious triumph, even, hardly lessened by the fact that no one will ever know about it. But Alexeara Cansellarion doesn’t have to choose between permanent cessation and inevitable damnation. Jean Riudaure, for his part, is going to figure out what’s actually going on.

Jean Riudaure is not the only person in Avistan to have devoted his life and soul to the overthrow of the Infernal Empire only to have someone else do it so fast he barely had a chance to notice.

No, actually, there are kind of a lot of those.

But he is, at eighth circle, one of the most powerful, and as Lastwall’s spymaster, he’s supposed to be one of the best-informed. Indeed, it was hardly shocking to him that the Duchess de Litran, part of an adventuring party that included at least two archmages and according to rumor an archmage herself, might have been planning to make a bid for the throne—really, the Four-Day War was entirely predictable. It’s just that, when it actually happened, it still left him feeling like he had gotten something terribly, colossally wrong.

It’s been the better part of a year, now, since Egorian fell (literally, in an archmage-triggered earthquake), and six months since the bizarre day in which Arazni had summoned the Tarrasque to Westcrown, had a public swordfight with the new Queen of Cheliax, and then told Alexeara Cansellarion that said Queen was actually an immortal evil archmage, which a Commune confirmed. Cansellarion won’t discuss what the Hell else happened that day; obviously, he has good reasons, and they don’t push him on it.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Cansellarion. He really does. It’s just that this situation is INCREDIBLY SUSPICIOUS. The revelations about Litran don't do anything to contradict his theory that she’s an archdevil in disguise and the war for Cheliax was a proxy for a war between factions in Hell, though, on the other hand, there are a lot of ancient mysterious powers on Golarion and most of them aren't Mephistopheles. It seems likelier, now, that Arazni was in on it, and the public fight with Her was a deception; ancient archmages who are actually trying to kill each other don’t use swords, obviously.

The lich-goddess who was once Arazni, he knows, almost certainly wants the world destroyed. It’s something Lastwall has been tracking since they first learned of the horror that Geb had wrought centuries ago. And it’s not so implausible that an otherwise Good adventuring party might have decided that the suffering in the Evil afterlives outweighs the good in the rest of Creation, and decided to release Rovagug, distracting the gods with enormous public defeats of His soon-to-be-irrelevant spawn. In which case—it may be that the only reason the world still exists is that Asmodeus, at the last, appealed to the party and offered to lessen the torments of Hell to a level they would find tolerable. Cansellarion can’t talk about it, because Asmodeus wouldn’t have done this if it would have become known that He could be moved in this way. And from Cansellarion’s perspective, this is fine—a great and glorious triumph, even, hardly lessened by the fact that no one will ever know about it. But Alexeara Cansellarion doesn’t have to choose between permanent cessation and inevitable damnation. Jean Riudaure, for his part, is going to figure out what’s actually going on.

Jean Riudaure is not the only person in Avistan to have devoted his life and soul to the overthrow of the Infernal Empire only to have someone else do it so fast he barely had a chance to notice.

No, actually, there are kind of a lot of those.

But he is, at eighth circle, one of the most powerful, and as Lastwall’s spymaster, he’s supposed to be one of the best-informed. Indeed, it was hardly shocking to him that the Duchess de Litran, part of an adventuring party that included at least two archmages and according to rumor an archmage herself, might have been planning to make a bid for the throne—really, the Four-Day War was entirely predictable. It’s just that, when it actually happened, it still left him feeling like he had gotten something terribly, colossally wrong.

It’s been the better part of a year, now, since Egorian fell (literally, in an archmage-triggered earthquake), and six months since the bizarre day in which Arazni had summoned the Tarrasque to Westcrown, had a public swordfight with the new Queen of Cheliax, and then told Alexeara Cansellarion that said Queen was actually an immortal evil archmage, which a Commune confirmed. Cansellarion won’t discuss what the Hell else happened that day; obviously, he has good reasons, and they don’t push him on it.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Cansellarion. He really does. It’s just that this situation is INCREDIBLY SUSPICIOUS. The revelations about Litran don't do anything to contradict his theory that she’s an archdevil in disguise and the war for Cheliax was a proxy for a war between factions in Hell, though, on the other hand, there are a lot of ancient mysterious powers on Golarion and most of them aren't Mephistopheles. It seems likelier, now, that Arazni was in on it, and the public fight with Her was a deception; ancient archmages who are actually trying to kill each other don’t use swords, obviously.

The lich-goddess who was once Arazni, he knows, almost certainly wants the world destroyed. It’s something Lastwall has been tracking since they first learned of the horror that Geb had wrought centuries ago. And it’s not so implausible that an otherwise Good adventuring party might have decided that the suffering in the Evil afterlives outweighs the good in the rest of Creation, and decided to release Rovagug, distracting the gods with enormous public defeats of His soon-to-be-irrelevant spawn. In which case—it may be that the only reason the world still exists is that Asmodeus, at the last, appealed to the party and offered to lessen the torments of Hell to a level they would find tolerable. Cansellarion can’t talk about it, because Asmodeus wouldn’t have done this if it would have become known that He could be moved in this way. And from Cansellarion’s perspective, this is fine—a great and glorious triumph, even, hardly lessened by the fact that no one will ever know about it. But Alexeara Cansellarion doesn’t have to choose between permanent cessation and inevitable damnation. Jean Riudaure, for his part, is going to figure out what’s actually going on.