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Additionally I'm now imagining under what circumstances Cirrus and Castor would have met... in my mind, because Cirrus is my first Tav he's the one that like lived through the BG3 game "for real", the others may have lived different lives in a setting where they might meet. After the game Cirrus went with Wyll and Karlach to Avernus for 6-12 months, so he doesn't know much about what's been happening in the mortal realm. He was close friends with Shadowheart who is dating Castor in his run, so maybe those two would have met during that time...

When he meets up with Shadowheart again Cirrus would be SO concerned when meeting this man who acts like he's got rabies or something, Shadowheart has to reassure him that it's okay, she can handle him fine, just tell him if he's out of line and he'll fold, Castor is doing his best he's just a big puppy that needs to learn his manners.

(And he IS trying his best it's just that his best is not very good)

(And he does love Shadowheart and will do whatever she says - he trusts her more than he trusts himself, she's not at any risk around him)

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Imagining my Dark Urge Castor (half-elf druid) meeting Cirrus (tiefling sorcerer)... maybe it'd go something like this...

-

Cirrus made sure to not turn his back to the man, turning every time he did, trying to make the grip on his staff look more relaxed than it truly was. This one was not one to be trusted, that much was clear.

"You're small," the man remarked. Cirrus didn't think of himself as particularly small, but compared to the other man he supposed so. Castor (that was his name, was it?) was tall, broad-shouldered and muscled, but it was his eyes that worried Cirrus the most. Yellow like a wolf's they were fixed on him and the intense look in them was... concerning. Cirrus felt like he was being hunted.

"I could snap you in two," the man continued, almost growling. "Just like that. It'd be easy." His fingers twitched, as if he was imagining himself doing it. He then violently shook his head, reminding Cirrus of an animal trying to rid itself of an annoying insect.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Cirrus carefully suggested. "Others have tried. I'm harder to hurt than I look."

The man eyed him curiously, like a cat eyeing a mouse, but said nothing more. His mind seemed to be far, far away. And then he pounced.

Cirrus wasn't sure what the other intended to do; it didn't matter. He would have been dead many times over by now if he hadn't developed lightning reflexes - literally so.

Castor didn't even get to lay a hand on him. Cirrus' body was suddenly surrounded in bright blue electricity snaking all around him, crackling a painful promise to anyone daring to come close enough. Castor leapt back with a pained howl, clearly not appreciating being electrocuted.

"I didn't touch you!" he grumbled. "It was just a game."

Cirrus said nothing, but his tail had started flicking quickly from side to side. Intent. Focused. He lifted his right hand, fingers curled and palm to the sky. More electricity, dancing around his fingers and up his wrist. His magic, his birth right, his instinct.

"There's plenty more where that came from," he calmly promised Castor.

"I can do sparky magic too," Castor warned him, but it came out more like a grumpy pout. He rubbed his tingling hands together.

"I'm sure," Cirrus agreed. "But I doubt at a storm sorcerer's level. Though we can test that theory, if you wish?"

"No," another low grumble, almost a whine. The fight suddenly seemed to have gone out of the man. Castor looked around as if suddenly wondering where he was, brow furrowed in concern.

"Where is she?" He then asked, tone suddenly shifting to something completely different; he sounded scared.

"Who?" Cirrus asked.

"I need her," Castor continued, shaking his head again. He grabbed it with both hands, eyes clenched shut and teeth bared. Was the man... cursed? Possessed? Cirrus took a step back, but whatever Castor was focused on now it was not him. He seemed to have switched to fighting something else now, something inside his own head.

The next time their eyes met the hunting wolf seemed to have turned into a lost dog.

"Can I... help you?" Cirrus tried, filled with a different kind of concern now.

"No. No, I doubt it. I need her." A final shake of his head and Castor turned around and ran off, leaving the sorcerer to ponder who - what - in the world he'd just met.

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very excited to be reaching new ground in act 3 and with it new opportunities to behave in the most deranged manner imaginable

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Too caught up to find the wits to bail

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something something when picturing fictional characters gives you extra motivation and all that

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i am a lover. but underneath that i'm a hater. and then underneath that i'm a lover again

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I think it would be really funny if you could get Wyll out of his pact by having Withers reclass him

Mizora over here pissed off because she didn’t anticipate Wyll being friends with the god of paperwork who would get him out of his devil contract for 100 gold, meanwhile he’s punching trees in half because he’s a monk now and giggling the whole time

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Astarion’s simple plan

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Hard to concentrate on present delights when something else dominates the mind...

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Bg3 companions as Dungeon Masters xD

lae'zel is always good for a last joke

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cat people doing cat people things like involving their cats in everything. Pt. 5 of the portraits. Yippee.

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Gale Dekarios sketchy sketch 💜

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I hear "the only thing a god's ever given me is a cold shoulder," and I think of Wyll Ravenguard, seventeen years old, young and hopeful, in whose care his father, his hero, the greatest man he knows, has left the entire city of Baldur's Gate to, being faced with imminent destruction and death beyond anything he's ever known, and praying, desperately, with everything he has, to the gods- the ones who were meant to be good and kind and care about the lives of tens of thousands of innocent people- and having the only response be a devil, and she wants his soul.

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digitalized that doodle of Wyll from the other day 👍

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❤️‍🔥

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while you were studying girls i was kissing the blade