Runar's Rising Star Part 1 (Patreon)

After Snugglemagne, Conner and I are back with another Interactive Story, this time featuring Runar, the pure cat boi from Final Fantasy XIV! Like last time, your votes will decide how big Runar gets, but we're going to be a little more coy with it- read the story for clues about which option will lead to different types of growth. Enjoy!

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A new night was cast over Norvrandt, and deep in the Rak’tika Greatwood, the Priests of the Night’s Blessed gave their thanks as once again the heavens revealed the splendor of the Sunless Sea, each star in the night sky a beloved soul reveling in heaven’s embrace. For a period of a hundred years, Norvrandt had not known the concealing embrace of shadow or the coolness of night; all had been under an oppressive, unceasing Flood of Light. It was for this reason that the Priests gave their thanks night after night; after their world had nearly been consumed by light, seeing the stars was every prayer answered for the Night’s Blessed.

The most senior of the Night’s Blessed, however, did not have his heart in the nightly rituals. Runar’s mind was elsewhere; it was with the Warriors of Darkness, the heroes who had come from another world to save Norvrandt and bring back the night. In particular, it was with Master Matoya, the cat-like Mystel that had protected and led the Night’s Blessed for years, before she and her companions were called back to their home. Runar’s heart ached for her- there were so many things he had left unsaid, and he had no idea when or if he would ever see her again.

Of course, in truth, he had little time to yearn for her; the Night’s Blessed were busy at all hours of the night and day. Fort Gohn needed to be rebuilt, and Slitherbough was far from the meager cult’s hideaway it had been just a few months ago, as more and more people embraced the Night’s Blessed and made pilgrimages to walk the path of the Warriors of Darkness and see where night had been returned to Rak’tika. It was only natural that the other Priests would turn to Runar; he was the longest serving priest, he had been Master Matoya’s second, and he was also a Ronso. Naturally larger, stronger, and hardier than the other races in Norvrandt, he certainly looked like a leader; besides the galdjent, he stood head and shoulders above the others, and his white and black-striped fur was reminiscent of deadly jungle predators. His face was crowned by a wild mane of black hair, and for his race, he was reasonably well built, which meant he had three times the amount of muscle of an average hume. Runar was even willing to take on the responsibility; it’s what Master Matoya would have encouraged him to do. Only, he had no idea of where to start.

The ronso poured out bowls of his famous stew for the other priests as they met to discuss the challenges facing the Night’s Blessed. “We really need to settle the problem of wild animal attacks on the road,” one elf said. “I’m starting to worry that it’s more than just a hungry coeurl or two- I think we have to start thinking about bandits in these woods, using animal attacks as a cover- they’re too well coordinated, otherwise. We need a strong arm to ward them off.”

“Maybe,” another ronso spoke up. “But we need to focus on the people we’ve already taken into our care. We’ve got dozens of builders from the Crystarium working at Fort Gohn- they need more support, or it will start to reflect badly on us. They’re fine workers, but they have no idea of what life is like in these woods. We need them to have good food and full bellies if we expect them to work well.”

The other priests all turned to Runar, who had been silent and looking down at his own bowl of stew. “Runar?”

“Hm? Oh- I apologize, brothers and sisters, my mind was elsewhere,” the ronso replied.

“What do you think, Runar? Should we focus on protecting the roads, or providing more for the Crystarium workers at Fort Gohn?” the other ronso priest asked.

Runar stroked his chin. “I… am unsure. Surely, we must find a way to do both? Our roads must be safe, and Fort Gohn must be rebuilt. We need both to have a life in these woods, to do more than merely survive.”

“But one must come first, Runar,” the elf priest urged.

“Well- why is everyone looking at me?” Runar blustered.

The other priests exchanged looks with one another. “You are the leader of the Night’s Blessed. We greatly value your wisdom, Runar.”

“Bah! We always made decisions by consensus. Now that Master Matoya is gone, you all have lost your way, and can’t make any decisions on your own!” The ronso shot up from his place at the table.

“But, Runar-!”

“I am going to meditate. I ask that you don’t disturb me,” the large cat grunted, stalking away from the other priests.

As he retreated into a cave, meditating before a pool of Dark-blessed Water, Runar tried to clear his mind. It took longer than he would care to admit for him to realize he had acted rashly. The other priests had chosen him, they looked up to him- and all he could do is wonder what Master Matoya would have done.

He sighed heavily; even if Master Matoya did return one day, he had to be his own man again. Someone she would be proud of. His resolve strengthened, Runar pulled himself up and exited the cave, only to find the other priests waiting for him.

“What- are you all really so lost without me?” he asked, half joking.

“If you keep giving us lip,” the other ronso said, “we’ll show you just how independent we really are, Runar.”

The elf priest nodded. “We were worried about you, of course. We know how keenly you felt Master Matoya’s departure- but we do trust you to lead us.”

Runar chuckled softly. “Well, I thank you, brothers and sisters- my friends.” He clapped hands on the shoulders of two of his fellow priests, drawing them into a quick embrace. “I want you to know I have thought about our course of action. And if you are really that interested in my opinion, I think we should first focus our efforts on…”