Every run I do I'm like "ok, I'll romance someone different now" but then he's like "hello" in that cheerful cute way and I can't resist his invitations to do magic, and suddenly I'm SUFFERING cause his voice when he's hurt/rejected/feeling cheated on cuts me deep to the point I can't enjoy romancing anyone else
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was supposed to wait until I finished the game to start drawing but then shenanigans happened
Baldur's Gate 3 Cast play D&D #1 | High Rollers Presents: Shadows of Athkatla
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It's rare that I critique bg3 but I do feel like the sussur blooms not having a massive impact on Gale's orb was a missed opportunity. Gimme the orb freaking out bc suddenly there is no weave for it to feed off of, gimme Gale in more pain than normal because of the pure Karsite weave sitting in his chest with only his life as fuel. Gimme a ticking timer until the orb explodes unless Gale gets far enough away from the blooms.
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When I think about Gale and Mystra, I'm reminded of the Greek myth of the moon goddess who fell in love with a shepherd and asked Zeus to place him in an enchanted sleep, so that he would never change. So he would be beautiful and hers forever.
There are different versions of the myth, but this is the one I knew as a kid - and it always made me so fucking sad. And now I see why, because Selene loves Endymion - and her love takes his life from him. A god could not love Endymion as a mortal loves a mortal; she wants his presence to gaze on, to soak in, his body to hold. Perhaps he's a balm to her immortal existence; perhaps his beauty is an inspiration to her - but she does not want him, not all of him, not really. She doesn't want his sheep flock, the evenings where his fingers burn from the cold. She doesn't want his voice, or the lines and experience he'll gather as he ages. She doesn't want to live a life alongisde his.
Selene would say she loves Endymion, and perhaps, yes, Mystra would say she loved Gale. But how can a god love a mortal in a way that a mortal can recognise as love? You soak up his company, you laugh with him, you value his mind and his talent and his deftness with words. His presence is a spot of bright difference in your endless existence. But will you change with him? Will you be vulnerable with him? Will you look him in the eye, as an equal? Will you stroke his cat and put a blanket over his shoulder when he falls asleep reading, make soup for him when he's sick? Would you love him as a person, not a treasure? You can't.
Gale wanted to be loved with a devotion to match his own. Mystra wanted him to live in the enchanted sleep of being hers, something to smile at and hold but never, never to live beside. And she knew - she must have known - how unequal their desires were. She kept him anyway, until she didn't. Until he woke up.
A god's love ruins mortals.
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