#he made me a gnoll paladin

[gregrulzok]

Love is when your DM writes you into the campaign as an NPC, then looks at you anxiously and impatiently as they wait for you to figure it out

[marcynomercy]

Fate written in blood

Thank you @littol-rascal for beta-reading and for giving me so many tips and suggestions to improve writing thanks to that the next chapters got better too.

Summary: The blood has always been her way until the day that fate changed, After being kidnapped by mind flayers and the fall of the Nautiloid Calamity had a new opportunity for freedom and strangely her fate crossed with that of Astarion when the elf put that dagger around her neck. 

 Their fate until now was written by others, but now they would write with their own hands in blood. 

Warnings: Violence, blood, game events, mentions of trauma, distress/comfort, mention of abuse. (That’s it for now)

Ship: Astarion and Calamity (Tav), Shadowheart and Carniex (Tav), mentions of other characters.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4.

Chapter 3 - Blood and a song

 That night, Calamity told Astarion her story–vaguely, because it was a bit too foreboding in the middle of the night, and perhaps the details would leave them both with nightmares, she said. 

In turn, Astarion heard everything she was willing to say, making his own mental notes: First, that her masters were two motherfuckers who deserved death just as well as Cazador, and second, that she was clearly broken—she just didn’t know how much. 

 She’d admitted that she was just "acting" the lead role, and Astarion found himself impressed since she’d done so quite it masterfully... so he just realized that she just assumed what she needed at the time, like a good doll and puppet. 

 He felt disgusted by it. 

 For some reason, he began to hate it, the lack of personality, ambition and greed... the lack of life in her. By the gods, he was an undead and had more to live for than she who had a beating heart in her chest! 

 So he started little by little, and when she seemed to want something, he encouraged her to take it, no matter how useless it seemed.

"Darling, if you want something, take it! No one willcare, and it’s better to have than to not, don’t you think?"

Hearing these words, Calamity just kept quiet, but she agreed.

 Calamity went on to pick up a few things, starting with one or two books that she became curious about, and then jewelry–they found a bag with some, and Astarion picked up almost all of it, with the exception of one piece–a silver necklace. After all, he had to stay away from silver, but Calamity kept staring at the necklace with great interest.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"A-Ah... the stone." She pointed to the small stone in the setting, probably a ruby, judging by its crimson hues. "It’s beautiful… I like that color," she said softly.

"Do you like red?"

"Yes! It’s a strong and welcoming color..." She looked into his eyes. "Like your eyes."

 Astarion found himself at a loss for words.

"R-Right, if you like the necklace, then take it! I can’t touch it," he chuckled

 That’s how she took the necklace she would wear around her neck often now. 

 It was the sixth day after the fall of the Nautiloid and the formation of this strange group, and now, they had two more members: A tiefling who fled the blood war called Karlach, and the hero of the coast, Wyll.

 So far, they’d just had to deal with some goblins, gnolls, some false paladins of Thyr, and at the present time–a hag. 

"That bitch pissed me off." She told the group as justification for chasing the hag to the bottom of her lair.

 Was it perhaps another idiotic reason? Maybe, but this witch had angered everyone in the group one way or another, so no one protested. At least it was a decision she made based on the trial itself, and that was progress and... well, they found a Gur. For some reason, he’d been there on the trail near the hag’s house, and they bumped into each other after the fight against the hag, saving Myrina and giving her a zombie husband. The Gur said he was looking for a vampire spawn,and immediately Calamity and Astarion’s gazes met. 

"And what will you do with him? Kill him?" Calamity asked.

"I have orders to capture him and take him back to Baldur’s Gate," the Gur replied, "my people are waiting for me there." 

As easy as it would be to pull a dagger and kill him– something she’d done before– didn’t seem justifiable, since she was the only one to know Astarion’s secret... therefore, she discreetly poked the vampire, hoping he would stop looking at the hunter as a beast ready to kill, saying goodbye quickly before snatching the elf, taking him down the road with her until they were out of the Gur’s earshot. 

"Why the hell did you spare him?!" Astarion’s tone was frustrated at best, downright furious at worst. "I should have killed him!" 

"Shh!!" Calamity put her hand over his mouth as she walked him away from the group a little so they could speak. "I did it to keep your secret hidden for longer! Think about it, Astarion… if I killed him without a GOOD explanation what others would think?" She argued, stepping away from him a little. " You once told me to think first before acting impulsively."

"Well, that was because you tried to draw the sword to a devil! He was just a Gur, and we killed a Hag because she annoyed you, remember?"

"I think the Hag’s death was enough of an impulsive action for today." 

He rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Yes! But if he shows up at camp..." Astarion’s tone was pointed, clearly expecting a response.

"Well," she replied, meeting his gaze with as serious of an expression as she could, “then I will have the pleasure of killing him, and draining his blood to be your dinner." She finished with a flourish of her hand, smiling at the vampire.

 Astarion just laughed in response, imagining her hanging the cadaver upside down to drain the blood–imagining such a small and adorable person doing it was frankly hilarious.

"Hey, you’re mocking my height in your mind again, aren’t you?!" She crossed her arms, a half-pout on her face.

"Me? No," Astarion said, feigning both seriousness and innocence, "I was just thinking lovely things about how cute and small you are."

 Judgind from Calamity’s expression, she was ready to hit him.

"Hey, when did the two of you start being so close?" Shadowheart asked suspiciously. " Now you’re even talking and whispering."

"Awww, let them talk! They’re so cute, like a couple." Karlach, chuckled, seemingly enjoying seeing them like this.

 Both of them looked up, denial and surprise evident on their faces.

"It’s either that, or you’re trying to make up for her brother's absence, which is kind of a... pathetic thing anyway." Much to their dismay, the cleric seemed as sharp as ever.

"Astarion and I just got a little closer as friends... what’s up? Is Shadowheart jealous?" Calamity teased.

"Only in your dreams." Shadowheart replied, rolling her eyes.

"You hurt me, Shadowheart, I thought you liked me." Calamity fake-pouted, though the beginnings of a smile were evident at the corners of her mouth.

"Don’t be dramatic, you silly." The cleric said amicably.

 After all, Calamity and Shadowheart seemed to have had a good rapport from the beginning, and if she wanted advice or to clear her mind so she could plan more clearly, the other party members could be sure they would find the leader of the group talking to Shadowheart.

As they walked, Shadowheart pulled Calamity away from Astarion.

"What are you two hiding?" she asked.

"Nothing that is problematic in, I think..." She thought a little better. "I think it’s not problematic... at least not for me. Anyway! It’s a personal thing for him, and I promised that I would keep it a secret, and you better than anyone understands secrecy, isn’t that Shart?" The cleric sighed, mainly due to the fact that she'd used the nickname.

"Are you really going to insist on the nickname?"

"If you don't like this, I’m accepting suggestions! You know... you’re my first friend, and I know that nicknames are something affectionate..." Calamity’s cheeks flushed slightly."So... you can call me "Caly" if you want to."

"Oh, that’s a cute nickname. Your brother calls you that, I suppose."

"Yeah, you know, whenever he calls me by my name,I’m usually going to get scolded, or it’s something serious." 

 They talked for a while as they made their way back to the camp.

 Maybe it was because of the awkward encounter with the Gur or just his mind dragging him back into misery to remind him not to relax, but Astarion had a nightmare. 

 The vampire from his trance after dreaming of Cazador meeting him in the forest. He was terrified of his desperate mind, and hunger tended to strike him as terribly and strongly as his fear did. He needed more strength, more power... he needed blood, not those animals he was taking, but someone. Astarion left his tent and began to think about who he should pay a visit to, but luckily for him, there was someone sleeping outside the tent tonight... It was Calamity. 

 She said she’d help him, so she probably wouldn’t be mad at him for that, right?

However, Calamity woke up before he could bite her, and stared at him, sighing in exasperation as she sat up on her sleeping bag. 

"You know…” she trailed off. “I expected you to at least ask." Calamity paused, watching Astarion for a moment. " What happened? You didn’t get anything in the forest today?"

"I..." He was silent for a moment, thinking about what he would say. " I had a nightmare with my Master, he found me and I went back to the shadows... I need to get stronger, and the hunger… it’s consuming me." 

 She saw the despair in his eyes, in his expression… it was a despair she knew very well.

"I understand you, and you know I promised to help you and trust you,” she said, trying to reassure him. 

"Can you trust me but a little more?"

" If it’s a bite you’re asking for, I don’t have a problem with that, but just…” Calamity paused. ”Don’t overdo it. Can you promise me that?"

"Of course,” Astarion replied, feeling the hunger gnaw at his stomach, “now, how about we get comfortable?" 

"I think we’d better go to your tent." she suggested. "Better to prevent any accidents, I’d hate for someone to try to stake you."

"You’re right, of course,” Astarion chuckled. “Can we?" he reached out to Calamity,who gladly accepted his hand.

 So silly. She trusted him so very easily…was it really so easy to conquer someone like her, just like that? 

 As soon as they entered his tent, Calamity just watched everything quietly, as it was messy; the empty blood jars and the wooden tablet on the floor... He didn’t seem very comfortable. 

"Wait a moment." Astarion took some pillows and a sleeping bag,quickly preparing a bed for her. "Much better."

"Why don’t you do it for yourself when you get some rest?" An innocent question from Calamity, but it hurt, somehow.

 Astarion ignored the question, making her sit in the sleeping bag accommodating her.

"How do you want to do this?" Calamity asked almost automatically, her eyes wide.

"Well…” Astarion paused. “Are you afraid?" 

"Of being bitten by a vampire? Honestly, I’m not afraid. I can’t explain it, but it seems natural to me..." Calamity said softly, her expression thoughtful. 

"Have... you ever been bitten?" Astarion was intrigued by her perspective.

"If I was, I don’t remember, I don’t remember anything before I was 10 years old, and there are things I just know." 

"No memories, but her subconscious remembers information it needs, so to speak..." he muttered, more as an observation to himself. "Well, whatever’s most comforting to you." 

 Calamity just grabbed her hair that was loose, moving to lie on a pillow leaving her neck easily accessible to him. Astarion then positioned himself on top of her calmly, watching her features. She stared serenely waiting for him... so soft, so inviting. 

  He slowly approached, placing his hand behind the back of her neck, then he finally set his fangs and bit down, feeling the blood flow into his mouth.

 The taste was... something he himself could not explain, it was coppery, savory, and sweet as vanilla, but had something more full-bodied, dense, strong... powerful. It was intense and addictive, and the more he drank, the more his desire increased. Meanwhile, Calamity felt pain, but also something completely new, unique; she could feel her blood flow from her body to his... but even after that, there was still something more. 

  Something asleep inside her that began to stir, deeply. Calamity grabbed the fabric of his shirt, trying to something, but Astarion couldn’t make out the words. He lifted her body, embracing her waist as her grip on his shirt tightened, her voice rising again.

"A-Astarion... please... stop." She pleaded with him, her vision blurred, her tone exhausted, weak even.

 Astarione realized he may have gone overboard, detaching himself from her neck immediately, but he kept holding her in his arms...saw what he did to her.

"Calamity?! Hey, don’t sleep!" he demanded, hiding his nervousness.

"Calm down, I won’t close my eyes."  Calamity’s voice was weak and her eyes looked heavy, yet she still tried to reassure him...

 To Astarion, her skin looked paler than before, and the blood was still flowing from the bite on her neck. Astarion then licked the blood that was dripping from the punctures,laying her down carefully. 

"That - that was amazing. My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel… happy." Astarion said as he stroked her face. "This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it."

Exhausted and drained, Calamity chose to just accept the affection willingly.

"I’m happy to help... is it a bad thing if I fall asleep? I feel so... tired." 

Her breathing was heavier, and Astarion feared that if she slept, her heart would stop beating. An irrational fear, perhaps, but a fear nonetheless.

"You know, darling, maybe it’s a little dangerous if you sleep." He sat next to her.

"Are you afraid I’ll die?"

"Well, if you die after letting me drink your blood, I don’t think others will see it in the right light…it would at least be a stake in my chest."

"Do you think someone like me would die so easily?" Calamity questioned, slightly turning her face to look at him.

"Would you be offended if I said that at this moment you seem very fragile?"

"No…” she trailed off drowsily. “Am I delusional, or do you look worried?"

"It’s kind of hard not to be a little worried right now." Astarion admitted, concern laced into his voice.

Calamity smiled when she heard those words. 

"You know, I’m gonna need to sleep sometime." 

"Then, please drink a healing potion before closing your eyes." Shuffling about, Astarion quickly took a jar from somewhere–she couldn’t tell where.

 Calamity raised her head high enough to be able to drink the potion without problems. Astarion helped her, of course, and then laid her down again. 

"Will you rest too?" she asked.

"Not yet, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more… filling."

 Astarion left her in his tent and ran into the forest, the truth is that he was hungry in a different sort of way.

"Gods... any more and I would have devoured her." He muttered, feeling heat begin to simmer beneath his skin, feeling the tension pooling in his groin.

 When he returned to his tent, Calamity was still there, seemingly in a deep sleep. He laid down beside her, but much to his surprise, she was awake, turning towards him and open her eyes.

"Are you tired?" She asked.

"I’m still far too awake to go into a trance now." He sighed.

"I can sing, to help you relax." she suggested.

"What? Will you put me to sleep with a lullaby?" He joked, looking mischievously at her.

"Well, it’s a unique offer." Calamity hummed.

"In that case…” Astarion paused. “How could I say no." 

 Calamity began to sing; a soft and beautiful melody, but the music hit Astarion in a way he would never have imagined.

"Light is not a salvation, the shadows are,

Your place isn’t in the light but you still miss it;

Blood calls you, so don’t hold on,

I will accompany you; wherever you go, I will be by your side.

This moment is our eternity,

Don’t think about tomorrow or the next century;

Just stay in this brief moment by my side,

I’ll be yours until I die.

You don’t belong to the light,

The darkness in you that even the brightest light can’t illuminate;

For some reason I am drawn to this darkness, I can’t help it,

It ‘s the darkest part of my soul taking a breath from this welcoming darkness."

  It seemed to Astarion that this song was made for him, as the lyrics made every part of his being tremble, even down to his soul.

"Darling... where did you hear that song?" he asked perplexed.

"I don’t know, I don’t remember. But this song is recorded in my heart, I sang it whenever I felt lonely and helpless. It was my hope and my comfort, so I hope she will give you some of that comfort and hope Astarion." She smiled and stretched out her hand shyly to him.

 Astarion was still atonite, he didn’t know what to think or what he was feeling... but this is nice, why not? He held her hand and she continued to sing to him. 

"So I took her in,

I took you in,

If it’s my blood you want, I’ll give it to you;

If it’s my life you want, I’ll give it to you;

I’ll give you everything, down to my soul,

This moment is our peace,

This moment is our redemption;

Let me stay with you in this darkness,

This is our eternity, my love."

 He listened to the end, his mind slipping gently into a trance. Upon seeing him relaxed, Calamity finally gave in to sleep too, whispering to him before slumber took her... 

"Sweet dreams, Astarion."

Well that’s it! Thank you for reading the third chapter.

@spacebarbarianweird @spacesquidlings @thechaoticdruid @vixstarria

Who wants to be tagged in the next chapters please tell me in the comments.

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 10

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

The group shared stories of the day as Gale cooked dinner. It turned out the goblin hideout had been rather more difficult to find than they’d expected, and instead of finding it and taking out the goblin leaders, they’d instead found Karlach and taken out a few fake paladins on her behalf. That wasn’t to say they hadn’t slain any goblins, though - a goblin-infested village was now significantly less infested. 

After hearing the full story of the gnoll the group decided it was best to stick with having four people on the road so that three people could stay camp, seeing as camping here was clearly more dangerous than they’d hoped. There was talk of possibly moving the camp, but that was decided against for now. When it came to the decision of who was to stay at camp tomorrow, the initial choice had been Gale, Astarion and Lae’zel, til Gale had insisted his arm was fine and that it was only fair to swap someone out rather than give him two days in a row at camp. Shadowheart swapped out in the end, and so Saff, Gale, Wyll and Karlach were to seek out the goblin camp tomorrow. Or, as Lae’zel hastily reminded them, a safe way to the mountain pass. 

Saff approached Gale as the group began to wind down after dinner and return to their tents to prepare for the next day. He looked up and smiled when he saw her. 

“All ready for tomorrow?” 

“Not even slightly,” she joked. Though she felt a lot more ready now than she had last time she’d set out. “I… wanted to thank you. For offering to come,” she said after a moment. She really didn’t like the idea of facing a fight again without his help and guidance.

“You’re more than welcome,” he said softly, in that tone that always made her feel giddy. But she had to check this was the right thing to do. 

“Are you sure you should come, though? Your arm-” 

“My arm is fine,” he insisted, holding it up and rotating his wrist around. “Perfectly able to cast spells, thanks to you and your healing. On that subject, I wanted to ask you something.” He put down what he was doing and turned to face her. “Would you be ok with the others knowing? I didn’t mention it earlier in case you weren’t comfortable with it. I know you said it is not a skill you’ve been able to do before, nor did you entirely know how you did it. I wouldn’t want to put any undue pressure or expectations on you until you’re more confident in this skill.” 

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. This was actually the other thing she’d come to ask him about - she’d noticed when asked how his wound wasn’t worse given what they’d seen in the vision, he’d mostly brushed the question off by saying it was just luck. “I guess you’re right… I wouldn’t want them expecting anything I can’t do…” She already felt bad enough about that happening with the goblins at the grove, she didn’t want them now expecting her to be able to heal then not be able to. “You think I’ll get better at it, then?” 

“Well, I certainly hope so, it would be an invaluable skill to have. It’s hard to say though. I know little about primal magic… but what I do know is that practice makes perfect. If you get the opportunity, it’s always worth trying again. Not that you need me to tell you that, I know you will anyway.” 

“Oh do you now? You think I can’t resist practising a bit of magic?” she teased. Gale chuckled, but shook his head. 

“Not, not that. I think you can’t resist helping someone in need,” he said, rather to her surprise. 

“What makes you say that?” she asked, thinking she hadn’t done anything particularly heroic or selfless since meeting him. Or ever, really. 

“Because it’s true. Since I’ve met you you’ve always looked out for people and wanted to help them. You stood up for Arabella. You voted for helping the tieflings. You even offered your neck to Astarion. And, of course, you pulled me out of that portal, and blasted that gnoll off me, and healed me up…” He looked at her with a smile full of warmth and fondness. “I think if you saw a friend get injured, you wouldn’t think twice about trying to help them.” 

She hadn’t really thought of herself or her actions like that, but when he put it that way, it made her feel pretty good about herself. Still, she didn’t entirely agree with all of it. 

“I think anyone wouldn’t think twice about helping their friend if they were injured.”

“True, but most people would think twice about offering their blood to a vampire.” She shifted a bit awkwardly. 

“I did think twice about that. I thought many times about that before I said it. But he needed it, and it’s not his fault. It was the right thing to do.” 

For a moment he didn’t reply. He just smiled as he looked at her, seemingly lost in his own thoughts…

“What?” she asked with an awkward laugh as she saw him staring at her. 

“Sorry, nothing,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “Do you need any help preparing for tomorrow?” 

“Oh, I don’t think so, but I’ll shout if that changes.”

From across the camp, red eyes watched as she turned from Gale and headed back to her tent, noticing as Gale’s gaze lingered on her. Once she was back at her tent, Astarion headed over. 

“Evening, darling,” he greeted in his usual suave drawl. 

“Evening,” she answered, turning from what she’d been doing to talk to him. 

“I wanted to apologise for interrupting earlier. I had only intended to find you both to tell you we were back. I hadn’t expected to come across such a… tender moment,” he said in a tone completely lacking in any sort of remorse. 

“Hmm… is that really what you came here to say?” she challenged. His fake look of remorse turned to a smirk. 

“I also wanted to ask if you found anything else out about the curious case of Gale’s blood.” 

She sighed deeply, somewhat wishing they’d stayed on the other subject. 

“No, I didn’t,” she answered simply, turning to continue sorting through the camp supplies the group had returned with. 

“Really? He didn’t say anything?” 

“Nope. Nothing.” 

“Did you ask him?” 

She didn’t answer. He watched her curiously for a moment, observing her expression and body language. 

“Why didn’t you ask him?” 

“It’s clearly private. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t have to.” 

“You can get lessons in magic off him, darling, but you need to get lessons in lying off me.” 

She stopped and turned to glare at him. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that. For once I’m telling the truth,” he said innocently. “Now, why won’t you ask him?” 

“Leave it, Astarion,” she said bluntly, turning back to the camp supplies once more. He watched her a few more moments. 

“You’re afraid of the truth, aren’t you?” 

“Please, just leave it,” she insisted, pointedly not looking at him, trying to focus on what she was doing. She didn’t want to have this conversation, and she hated arguing like this. She just wanted it to end. 

“Alright, alright, as you wish,” he said, holding his hands up and taking a step back. “But I stand by what I said before.” 

She glanced back at him and his expression and tone finally shifted to something heartfelt. 

“Be careful with him, darling.” 

He turned and walked away, leaving her with her thoughts. She sighed deeply, hanging her head, unsure what to do. 

Later that night, Gale crouched by the riverside gathering water when he heard footsteps behind him. He stood up quickly and turned to see Astarion approaching. 

“You’re up late,” Astarion commented. 

“As are you.” 

“A vampire needs to eat. Lovely as your stew is, it’s not really for me.” 

“What do you want, Astarion?” he said bluntly, folding his arms. Astarion’s smirk grew a bit bigger, amused as he was by Gale’s impatience. 

“That stew, of course, isn’t the only thing you’ve offered me to eat that wasn’t for me,” he said, sauntering over a bit closer. “Feel like telling me what’s wrong with your blood?” 

“No,” he said simply, narrowing his eyes. 

“I had a feeling you’d say that.” He began walking round him, much to Gale’s annoyance. “But if you won’t tell me, there’s someone else you really should tell.” 

“Oh, and who would that be?” Gale said disbelievingly, figuring Astarion was having him on. 

“Saff.”

The answer caught Gale by surprise. 

“Saff? Why her?” 

“She’s worried about you, darling. Worried you’re sick or cursed. She wants to know you’re ok.” 

“If she wants to know she can ask.” “Oh, but she won’t,” he said, finally stopping in front of Gale. 

“And how would you know?” he challenged, still not quite believing anything he was saying. 

“Because I’ve spoken to her about it. She’s worried her handsome, charming wizard isn’t all he’s made out to be,” he said, and despite his playful tone, Gale could tell his words were absolutely truthful. And that terrified him… he hated the thought of Saff being in any way unsure of or afraid of him. 

Astarion stood back, his smirk gone, now replaced by a very threatening look. 

“If you hurt her, it won’t matter how bad your blood tastes. I will drain you of it.” 

That particularly took Gale by surprise.

“Astarion, do you… have feelings for her?” 

“No, I don’t. So worry not, you’ll have no competition from me. She’s not… interesting enough for my tastes. But she did give me something no one else has given me for 200 years.” 

Gale frowned slightly. 

“Blood?” he guessed, but Astarion shook his head. 

“No, darling,” he said, almost disdainful of that suggestion. Then his expression shifted to one more genuine. “She gave me a chance.” 

Gale was surprised at first by his apparent honesty, and as the words began to sink in, he slowly began to trust him. 

“She looked out for me,” Astarion continued, “So I’m doing the same for her.”

He nodded slowly, finding himself respecting Astarion for this.

“Well not to worry,” he assured him, “I would never hurt her.”

“Is that so?” he said suspiciously. “That blood of yours is nothing to be concerned about, then?” 

“You let me worry about that,” he insisted, folding his arms. 

“Very well, but remember Gale,” he started, leaning in slightly. “I don’t make idle threats.” 

With that he turned and left, disappearing off into the darkness. Gale sighed solemnly, ultimately knowing Astarion’s suspicions were right. He had no idea how she’d react to the truth… and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her friendship. Even though he’d only known her for 3 days, she’d grown to mean so much to him. He was trying not to let his growing feelings make him do something he’d regret. They’d come so close, earlier… perhaps he should have thanked Astarion for interrupting. He wondered how the orb would have reacted had he given in to his desires… 

Plus, that was probably all they were. Carnal desires, nothing deeper. She was the first person he’d spent any significant time with in over a year, and she was undeniably beautiful. Of course he would feel something , but could it possibly be anything deeper when he’d known her for such little time? 

He decided to think about it more later, he was far too tired right now. Quickly he gathered the rest of the water he needed and returned to his tent, wondering what tomorrow’s adventures would bring.

[rosys-fans-fics]

First Steps: Aradin Beno x half drow! Tav

Note: it’s been a while since I’ve written fanfiction so I’m a little rusty.

AO3: First Steps: Aradin x Tav

Aradin did not know what he expected when the half-drow took the night song contract, but he knew he did not expect her to do this. She had come back to the grove with Liam draped over her back. He was barely conscious but was able to get out that he didn’t let the grove’s location slip. Aradin though Liam was as good as dead, looking at his unconscious body curled up in a sleeping back, a part of him thinks he’d be better off that way. Beyond saving Liam’s life and asking for nothing in return, the drow also retrieved some of the gear and personal items from his fallen comrades.

“It’s not much, but it will bring their family some peace,” she said. Aradin had always heard stories of Drow, cold hearted elves driven underground with their women ruling and subjugating anyone they could. But looking at her, he didn’t see anything close to those stories. At first glance, she looked like any normal half-elf with the same slightly pointed ears as Barth. But her complexion was just a tad too ashy to be normal. Almost as if she was close to death. Her hair was also another sign of her Drow heritage, it was a strange shade of white only seen on people from the under dark. The most human thing about her were her eyes. Soft, caring, and memorizing. He felt like she was staring right into his sole.

Aradin took the supplies and told his companions they’d leave as soon as Liam could travel. Before he could do much else, the half drow grabbed his arm.

“You’ll be dead if you leave the grove.” Her voice did not match the strength that she gripped his arm with. Too calm, like she had practiced saying it to everyone.

“The druids won’t like us sticking around. Better to get out now before the gobbos come back.” He tried to sound unbothered but it was difficult with her staring directly into his soul.

“We’re figuring out how to stop the ritual,” her three companions looked bored as they watched them. “Once the goblin camp is cleared, then it’ll be safe to leave.”

Aradin pulled his arm from her grasp, finding her grip all for show. “We don’t have time to wait around for you to straighten out this mess”

“The only way out is chocked with goblins, gnolls, orcs, and bugbears. We’re only alive cause I’m part drow. They won’t be as lenient to you. If you want any chance of seeing another gold piece, you’ll stay put”

The pale elf stepped up next to her, resting an arm on her shoulder, “I’d do what she says, we’d hate to wipe blood off your loot when you’re dead.” He gave a cheeky smile at his little threat.

Aradin tsked, mulling over his options. Look like a coward in front of his crew and hers or staying alive. “Fine. We’ll stay, don’t make us wait long.”

The pale elf turned away with a sing song voice saying, ‘see, it wasn’t that hard’. The wizard and cleric both looked fed up with their leader making a big fuss over him and his crew. But the drow? She gave him a soft smile that almost made Aradin forget her earlier warnings. “Thankyou,” she said before turning around to follow her companions off to their camp.

Aradin pulled himself away from staring at her retreating form to grab a drink. He sat down across from Barth and Remira, taking a long swig of the bland alcohol. The trio sat in silence for a while, each glancing over at Liam to make sure he was still there, still alive.

Remira was the first to break the silence, “she’d make a terrible sell sword. Didn’t even ask for money and gave it to us!” A large smile broke across her lips.

Barth joined in with more praise, “she also got me mum’s locked back from those brats. Thought I’d lost it forever.”

Aradin lost himself in thought about the half-drow. She was so altruistic, saving them at the gates, keeping Zevlor from attacking him, and saving Liam. She wasn’t a paladin as far as he knew. Most likely a ranger based on how she favored the bow over more close ranged weapons. He wondered why she was doing all this. Could she really afford to adventure without focusing on money? Just doing good deeds? Her companions did not seem like the type to go along with making the world a better place, but they stuck around with her.

It only took two days for her to return to the grove with Halsin in tow. The large elf didn’t seem to hold any ill will towards Aradin for leaving him to die. He’d even invited his group to stay for the party to celebrate the goblins’ defeat. Aradin almost declined until the drow caught his eyes, that sweet smile across her lips, that was all it took for him to accept.

Parties were not his thing. Not even the alcohol was enough to get him to socialize with the people there. Barth and Remira had ran off to talk to some teifling bard. Liam was healed up enough to be talking to the druids. That just left Aradin, standing off to the side, watching everyone have a good time. He was lost in thought that he didn’t realize the drow had approached him.

“Hey,” he jumped a bit but quickly composed himself, “how you enjoying the party? Worth sticking around for?” She looked up at him with such a genuine smile on her face. It had been a while sense someone looked at Aradin like that.

He took a moment to compose himself, masking it by taking a swig of the alcohol, “beats being dead. But could use better wine.”

She let out a cute giggles, “can I talk to you in private?”

That truly caught Aradin off guard, “what? Don’t want to be seen talking to me?”

She rolled her eyes, “just have a few things to discuss that I’d rather not have people eavesdropping on.”

Aradin gave her a nod and let her lead him away from the party. She took him down to the beach next to the grove. To his surprise, a white dog and owl beat cub were curled up next to each other sleeping.

“Didn’t know you brought pets with you,” Aradin was cautious not to wake to animals.

“I found them near the goblin camp. Scratch, the dog, was guarding his owner who the goblins killed and the owl bear cub was captured by the goblins after they killed his mom.” She sat down on the sand, gazing fondly at the two.

Aradin followed suit, placing himself close enough to her that they might touch without it being obvious, “you brought me out here to talk about your dog and cub?”

She shook her head but still kept looking at the duo, “I wanted to offer you some information we found on the night song,” she pulled out a small leather bound journal and opened it to a page with multiple notes scribbled down. “The night song isn’t in a Selûne temple. Whatever it is, is hidden in a Shar temple in the shadowlands.”

Aradin skimmed over the notes in her journal, they confirmed what she was saying. “So why you given this to me? I ain’t sending my crew after the night song again if that’s what worries you.”

She looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “while it’s not the night song, I hope Lorroakan will pay for information on its location. Especially considering he doesn’t know where it’s actually located.”

Aradin scoffed, “so you want me to be your errand boy? I ain’t-”

“I want you to take the money,” she cut him off. “Get your crew to Baldur’s Gate and get whatever the wizard is willing to pay for that information.”

That truly stunned Aradin, “what’s the catch? Drows aren’t this friendly.”

She bristled at his words. She reached up and grabbed the front of his tunic, pulling him down slightly. “I’m helping you and you insult me? Forget it you’re an ass.” She pushed him back and snatched her journal back.

“Wait, no!” She turned back to look at him, “I am… sorry. Im not used to people being nice, not without me giving something in return.” Aradin took a deep breath, steeling himself for how vulnerable he was being. “Thanks for savin’ my life, gettin Barth’s mums locket back, saving Liam and the Druid, it’s more than anyone has done for me. I don’t know what I could give you in return but thank you for all of it.”

Her face softened back to a smile, “I don’t do good things so people give me stuff. I just like helping.” She ripped the page of notes on the night song from her journal and handed to him. “All I need you to do is stay alive long enough to get some gold.”

He smiles back, in the moonlight she looked very pretty, her eyes sparkled, and Aradin’s cheeks flushed.

She began to fidget with her journal, “there is one thing I wanted to ask you to do. It’s kind of a big request but I’m willing to give you some stuff to help if you agree.”

Aradin raised a brow at her, standing up to match her gaze, “yeah? What kind of problem do you need my help with?”

“Both your crew and the Teiflings are heading to Baldur’s gate. My crew can’t accompany them so I was wondering if you would? I know you and Zevlor don’t get along but it would mean a lot if you helped them”

Aradin was disappointed that this was her request. His gut reaction was to say no, let the Teiflings fend for themselves. But her words made him second guess himself. Helping just to be nice? People don’t do that, especially for people they don’t like. Zevlor didn’t help his group when the goblins chased them back, only telling Aradin that they should have died instead of trying to live.

“Why do you do this?” Aradin asked.

“I told you I like helping?” Her brows raised.

“I mean, why do you help people that don’t like you. You’re a drow, I doubt the Teiflings or Druids were thrilled to have you running to their rescue. Hells, I was an ass to you so why are you helping me?” He gestured at himself to emphasize his point.

“I never had people want to help me when I struggled. It was just my mom and I, no one let us stay for long before running us out of town. No one wanted to help a half-drow. I don’t want to be like those people. If I can make the world just a little better, try to bring people together, maybe that wont happen to the next kid.” Her arms crossed over herself and she looked to the ground.

Aradin thought back to his own childhood. His parents weren’t around for long and he learned how to survive on the streets after they were gone. People rarely stopped to help a starving kid in Baldur’s Gate. Had he stopped to help any kids now that he was an adult? He was becoming the type of people he hated as a kid, so self focused and unable to see those struggling outside themselves.

“Fine, I’ll help get the Teiflings to Baldur’s Gate,” He finally answered. “But it Zevlor tries to punch me again, then I’m leaving him and his group behind.”

“Just don’t call him a foul blood and I think you’ll be good,” she playfully punched his arm, grinning up at him. “I have extra supplies your crew can use, some better armor and weapons.”

“You sure your crew will be fine if we take a bunch of their stuff?”

She gave him a reassuring smile, “they don’t need anything more than they can carry, they’ll understand. And thank you for agreeing to help, it means a lot and I know Zevlor and the Teiflings will appreciate it.”

“You convinced me. And thanks for the Nightsong info, I’ll get that wizard to cough up something.” Aradin reached out his hand for her to take, “would you like to stay here a little longer? You don’t get views like this in the city.”

She blushed and took his hand, “I’d like that.”

The two sat down together on the beach. The drow leaned her head against his shoulder and Aradin relaxed knowing she was feeling a similar way to him. He leaned into her, laying his head against hers. The two shared a quiet night there until they heard her crew calling out for her.

She sighed and stood up, his hand reached out to grab hers before she left, “thank you Aradin, I’ll see you in the morning.” She gave his hand a tight squeeze before walking back to camp. The owl bear cub and dog both woke up to follow her back.

Aradin waited a bit before leaving to join his own group. He found that Remira and Liam had already fallen asleep with Barth being the only one left awake.

Aradin nodded to Barth before curling up in his own sleeping bag.

“What are you doing with the drow?” Barth asked.

“Half-drow, I’ll tell you in the morning,” Aradin heard Barth chuckle before getting into his own sleeping bag.

“Whatever you say boss.”

The morning came far too quickly for Aradin’s liking and started off far too busy. From the Teiflings packing up their wagons to the druids clearing out the grove, it was all far too much. Aradin headed toward’s the other adventuring group to meet up with the Half-drow again. She created him with a big smile before pulling him over towards a traveling trunk. She pulled out some improved weapons along with armor. One of her companions stopped to chastise her about giving all their supplies away only for her to say they had more than enough.

The two set off to meet up with Aradin’s group and distribute the gear. Remira got an improved two handed bow and some bracers, Liam a sword and armor, and Barth a stronger shield.

“Oh before I forget,” she reached for her necklace and unhooked a silver pendant. “It’s enchanted to offer guidance, it will help when dealing with Zevlor.” She placed the pendant in his hand, letting her hand linger longer than necessary. With a quick squeeze she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, “good luck, I hope to see you again.” And she was off.

The feeling of her lips on his cheek lingered, he wanted to run after her and kiss her. He was knocked out of his fantasy by Barth slapping him on the shoulder.

“So you got some last night? Didn’t know Drow was your type.”

Aradin pushed Barth’s hand off him, “nothin like that happened.”

Remira laughed, “so she handed out gear for free?”

“She asked us to escort the Teiflings to Baldur’s Gate. The gear and some info on the nightsong is our payment.” Aradin explained.

Remira and Barth both looked exasperated at the thought of spending more time around the Teiflings but one look from Aradin got them heading over to the wagon train. Liam stayed besides Aradin, “so we’re helping the Teiflings out? What about what happened earlier?”

Aradin clasped Liam around the shoulder and began walking towards the wagons, “someone’s got to help them, might as well be us.”

Zevlor gave Aradin a curt nod as the two approached, “thank you for agreeing to help escort the wagons, we need all the swords we can get.”

“Don’t mention it, old man” Aradin and his crew helped load the last of the Teifling’s supplies into the wagons before pushing off to the mountain path. He looked back at the grove to try and catchable glimpse of the half drow. He saw a glimpse of her white hair before the tree line obscured her and her party. Aradin turned back to the road, he looked down at the silver pendant she had gifted him and felt the guiding energy from it.

[yourstarforevermore]

How would Astarion interact with M., a dark urge paladin revenge. She is a quiet surge and doesn’t engage in conversations much but she protects her companions and listens to them when needed. This is after the tiefling party where she slept with astarion.

It is after a fight with gnolls and everyone was taking care of their own wounds except for her, she was sitting far away from camp observing the scars on her arms but not tending to them. She was just watching the blood paint the grass with an expressionless face.

･ ｡ﾟ ──────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────── ☆ﾟ.

He found you enigmatic, a mystery he couldn't quite piece together. You hardly spoke even when he made the effort to initiate the conversations, you kept things as vague as you possibly could which truly bothered him. Nevertheless, your mystifying presence is what slowly drew him into you, he had grown fixed on unpacking each and every one of your secrets in hopes of uncovering the person hiding behind the obscurity.

He had presumed that perhaps after a night of intimacy, you would finally begin to open up and reveal what lurked between the cracks, though he was mistaken. Even then, you remained as distant as ever, a quiet warrior of which everyone in the party knew very little about. At this point, the mystery that came with you was finally getting to him.

He wouldn't ever admit just how curious he had started to become, but you could catch him and his little glimpses as he observed from afar. It was after the rather gruesome battle that you and your companions encountered when he decided to confront you yet again; his own interest piqued as soon as he realized you weren't even healing yourself. The first thing he did was scoff in disbelief, there was no way you didn't know how to tend to your own wounds… or perhaps it was something else entirely. You were always a rather peculiar one anyway.

You had practically memorized the sound of his footsteps as he sauntered over to you with that familiar little smirk of his, hands on his hips as if he was mere seconds away from delivering yet another snarky comment. It was relatively surprising just how much you tolerated his sass, it amused him nonetheless.

“My, bloodthirsty friend, what exactly are you doing sulking around all dirtied and bruised? You poor thing, you do realize there are enough healing potions to go around? Gods, it's as if you want to be a meat shield, come here, darling, let me fix you up.”

･ ｡ﾟ ──────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────── ☆ﾟ.

[vole-mon-amour]

I regret not recording this 'cause I was dreading this battle the entire time—'cause on my first run Cazador has killed Astarion thrice ('Astarion has permanently left your party') and I could NOT protect Astarion from the ritual without killing one of the spawns. I played as a wooden elf druid with Halsin, Shadowheart, and Astarion in my party.

On my current, second, run, however, it was HILARIOUS. I'm playing as a Durge Paladin Elf & she is buff & still hasn't broken her oath, so tons of different radiant damage can be applied.

Halsin cast an ice shower or something like that & Cazador, that weak bitch, fell prone (!) on the first try to move away (he failed to maintain his mist form) & then my Paladin went straight up to him, hit him twice or thrice for 6 critical hits (!!!) and he died closely after—either from Astarion's hand or my Durge hitting him again. Up to that point I might've killed a couple of bats. When i tried to have Astarion open the coffin (because the journal said that 'we defeated Cazador, now we only have to get him in his coffin'), Astarion went, "Maybe later, when I'm not locked into combat!" Sigh. So I had to finish off everyone else.

But writing this made me laugh again. It was absolutely hilarious—watching him failing a saving throw, falling down, and receiving tons of critical damage immediately after. His health went from maybe 100 something to 40 something, lol. Replaying your fav games definitely gives you a new perspective on things.

Granted, yes, I'm playing on the Explorer difficulty, but I was playing on the same one during my first time & still couldn't figure it out without killing a spawn. Here? Lol.

Look at this weak bitch. Hilarious.

Look at him being linked to Astarion & taking some serious damage from him. Good for my boy!

On the other hand, Halsin as an owlbear got frightened after helping Astarion and couldn't move until he finally shook off that debuff. He was surrounded by maybe 6-8 bats and a couple of gnolls or whatever those things are called. I sent my durge to save him, but, thankfully, he got back to his senses.

[blackjackkent]

OK. So I think Rakha's finished with everything in the mountain pass area, having shattered Lae'zel's faith, obliterated a priceless piece of Lathandran architecture, made an enemy of the entire gith race, inadvertently set Gale on a suicide mission, and adopted an owlbear.

The really funny thing is that almost none of this chaos can be blamed particularly on her murder urge brain. (Except the monastery I guess.)

The overall plan is to head for the Underdark next but we do have some things to clean up in the initial map first - particularly killing the Paladins of Tyr for Karlach. This has been high on Rakha's to-do list right from the moment she heard about it, because Karlach said, "hey, want to kill some people for me?" and Rakha was like "Boy, do I!" (Except she's Rakha so she just said "Yes" in a grumbly sort of way.)

So we'll do that first!

Karlach and Lae'zel have a banter as we make our way up the hill covered in dead gnolls, towards the building that the Paladins are using for their headquarters:

This banter definitely carries a different ring when they're traveling with Rakha. Both of them are definitely commenting on this while side-eyeing Rakha and trying to gauge if she's about to go off the deep end because of the blood smell.

She isn't, but she definitely does smell it and it's definitely got the beast urge in her head keyed up. For the moment, though, she's satisfied with the anticipation of killing these people who have been chasing Karlach.

I seem to recall that with Hector, I did a weird sneaky thing coming in from a top floor window of this building. Rakha, however, stalks right in through the front door like she owns the place. Immediately, they're greeted by a man in chainmail bearing a greatsword and a haggard expression:

"Please - no more!" he cries, his eyes widening dramatically as he looks past Rakha to Karlach standing behind her. "Leave us in peace and we shall leave you in kind!"

Karlach rolls her eyes. "Cut the crap, Anders," she snaps disdainfully. "I know what you are."

The man swallows nervously. "Don't let her hurt us. Please - we just want to go home!"

Rakha is already halfway to bursting out in violence and was before she came in the door. It's only Wyll's presence at her elbow that makes her take even a moment to consider the possibility of these people's innocence.

[INSIGHT] Assess his posture, his eyes. Is he telling the truth?

Narrator: There's something in the squint of his eye. You suspect he's lying.

"Enough of this charade," she says flatly. With a smooth motion she pulls both quarterstaves from her back. "I know who you really are."

The man flinches, his eyes narrowing. Then he smirks disdainfully. "Enough. Enough - I'll not play pretend anymore. Karlach... you're going home in pieces if needs must. And you--" He flicks his eyes to Rakha, looking her over, then spits on the ground at her feet. "You'll soon learn what it means to ally yourself with the likes of this garbage."

Rakha's jaw sets and the beast flares eagerly in her head. Kill. Make him pay. He would tear us apart. Show him pain. Show him death.

And it is not just the beast, either. As when Mizora invaded their camp - this is her own anger as well, roused on Karlach's behalf. Karlach is one of them, one of the only people Rakha has reason to know or trust. This man threatens her. And Rakha, not just the beast urge within her, wants him dead.

She feels the temperature around her spike up a few degrees. Karlach has stepped forward next to her, and the low hum of her engine heart has escalated to an unsettling, angry whir. Her eyes are narrowed in a mixture of rage and fear that Rakha has never seen in her expression before.

"Avernus was never my home," she snarls. "It was my prison. I'm free now."

Anders takes a step back and his cocky confidence flickers; a burst of flame surges up around Karlach's entire body as she screams into his face. "AND I'M NEVER GOING BACK!"

[lunawish]

the events (and order) of kira's "canon".

ACT 1 + PROLOGUE

frees us, does not mutilate it; frees shadowheart

recruits shadowheart first, then gale, astarion, and lae'zel

meets withers in the dank crypt

stops the aradin from punching zevlor; persuades rolan & siblings to stay

recruits wyll and offer to help him look into the "devil situation"

stops arka from killing sazza & helps free sazza; saves arabella

finds kagha's note in her chest when looking for some "valuables" to spirit away because they were broke and gonna go hungry

gets poisoned by nettie but doesn't kill her, offers to find halsin

learns how to play an instrument from alfira, saves mirkon from the harpies ; steals mattis' ring because it's amusing to her but is gentle with sylvie

on the way to the camp she rejects the tadpole, tells the siblings to spare the owlbears

ends up in the owlbear cave but managed to talk her way out

gets really lost whilst trying to find the goblin camp and ends up at the "sunlit wetlands"

helps ethel when she was confronted by mayrina's brothers

lets astarion kill gandrel because he deserves to feel safe

tells mayrina the truth, "kills" ethel, "revives" her husband

finds out about kagha's involvement with the shadow druids, proceeds to return to the grove for the confrontation (just to help buy the refugees more time)

at this point she begins to experience immense chest pains, unsure why. but they're bearable (think of it as a warning for her oath being on the border of being broken)

meets karlach, advocates hard on her behalf; kills the paladins of tyr

meets the dragonborn bard, quill and lets her stay only for her to wake up with blood all over her hands. cleans up the body because it was undignifying to be left that way, waits for the camp to wake up and confesses to all.

vows to never kill an innocent again : this is the moment when her oath breaks. it was the vow she made to herself that directly conflicted with bhaal's oath of conquest.

kills the gnolls, saving rugan and olly; follows them to waukeen's rest. but first, save florrick and the one man who really wants to find his dowry

finds scratch, lets him follow her scent

saves barcus, reads the necromancy of thay

goes into the goblin camp, works with the owlbear cub to earn him his freedom; bites off crusher's toe ... oops

kills priestess gut out of self defense, knocks out minthara (something felt familiar about her), kills dror ragzlin; frees halsin last.

at the party she hooks up with lae'zel (the only "romance" i'm gonna incorporate in this timeline since i don't wanna force relationships lmao)

makes their way to the mountain pass to find lae'zel's creche, stops lae'zel from going into the zai'thisk because it seems too experimental and if it fails, it means lae'zel dies so she insists on going in

takes the githyanki egg but DOES not give it to esther (they do murder esther later... as a treat)

does not kill her dream guardian, fights the entire creche, steals lathander's blood

they go back to find their way into the underdark because the mountain pass is no longer safe

helps the myconids, finds baelen. let's shadowheart eat the noblestalk, steals thulla's boots

convinces the spiders to betray the duergars, sides with elder brithvar against nere, save the gnomes

tried to steer shadowheart away from the grymforge but alas

gifts her the idol of shar and insert the kiss me like you hate me scene (ok sorry i gOTTA)

fights grym, agrees to help the monk in the sentient amulet

goes to the shadowcursed lands through the grymforge

ACT 2

sides with the jaheira, isobel, and the harpers & betrays marcus

helps barcus to find the ironhand gnomes & helps alfira to find the other tieflings

agrees to help astarion figure out the stories of his scars

confesses to isobel about her urges and has a breakdown over her undeserved kindness. isobel does not die.

convinces kar'niss to give them the moonlantern, frees dolly thrice

saves rolan before going into moonrise

convinces the three thorm siblings to die by their own hands (essentially)

goes to moonrise, kills the goblins with her own hands, frees minthara & the rest of the prisoners before returning to last light with them

plays the lute of art cullagh, helps halsin guard his portal

goes to play two rounds of hide n seek with oliver before "spoiling the fun", ultimately lets halsin convince oliver to join with thaniel for now

heads directly to the mausoleum aka the gauntlet of shar.

talks yurgir to death (basically), kills balthazar on site (before the shadowfell), lets shadowheart do the trials (even though she's getting the heebeejeebees here); shadowheart spares aylin

takes a rest here because they know better than to try and fight with barely enough energy. is given the task to kill her darling. (by default her fav person is shadowheart, platonic or romantic) does her best to resist and actually the 'shadowheart has faith in you' advantage let her say thank you

when confronted she starts crying and offers shadowheart a chance to off her

recruits jaheira, slaughter the first floor of moonrise, tries to offer ketheric mercy but instead he doesn't take it and myrkul emerges

after the battle, she tells minthara the throne suits her, tries to cheer up the kids with alfira, loots all the food in the kitchen, adoringly watches aylin and isobel reunite

lets aylin and isobel stay in camp, tells shadowheart her hair is the most beautiful thing she's seen the next day

when the emperor reveal happens, she's disgusted with the amount of deceit because she too, feels like a monster but she isn't hiding it like he is. however, she can't kill him so begrudgingly, she works with him

ACT 3

help the squatters , investigate the bombs in the toys, tells ferg drogher to fuck off, agree to help investigate the murders, agree to help find dribbles' body parts, and is visibly distraught by orin fucking with her head

was about to attack the steelwatchers by the cross point but her gnome terrorist pals came in with flashblinders ! so they snuck past

unravels that the murders were all a bhaalist plot, valeria gives her the pass

says no to raphael's deal but then promises to steal it from his house of hope (credit to jaheira for the idea!)

confronts the harpers in the safe house, advocates for geraldus

has a violent flashback the minute she senses gortash's presence. the bhaalspawn reveal happens here

attends his coronation, agrees to a temporary alliance with gortash because somewhere she feels a fondness towards him

lets wyll talk to ulder; they break florrick out of jail

tells wyll she thinks he should be free and no one deserves eternal damnation of their soul but its his choice (usually assumes wyll breaks his pact here)

convinces the elfsong tavern owner to let them stay there for free

finds dolor, and subsequently the tribunal; murders sarevok and frees valeria

orin kidnaps halsin, kira makes a beeline towards the temple (well, as much of a beeline as she could make given she has no idea where it is)

duels orin, wins by a bare margin against her slayer form. rejects bhaal. is literally exsanguinated, skewered, maimed, gored (point is, revivify wouldn't work in true dnd fashion). brought back to life by withers

is catatonic in bed for a few days (at this point i assume the other companions either take turns checking in on her or doing some of those quests lmao)

asks isobel and aylin if they could witness her take up a new oath with selune and this time for realsies. takes up the oath of vengeance.

[ any romance scenes will only happen after she takes up a new oath ]

( assuming at this point gale's done his sorceries sundries part of his quest and the audience with mystra )

makes a beeline towards the house of grief, does not betray shadowheart (obviously), lets shadowheart have her moment with nocturne. lets shadowheart make her own choice

finds cazador's mansion, brings astarion to confront him. talks astarion down from ascending

finds their way into the devil's fee, goes to the house of hope.

steals the hammer, saves hope, kills raphael

goes to the irone throne, saves omeluum, ulder, and the gondians

blows up gortash's foundry

has a heart wrenching confrontation with gortash and genuinely mourns him when he dies

finds ansur and has to kill an undead dragon. wyll becomes the blade of avernus

smashes the chains of orpheus free, (welcome to gany's self indulgent no one has to turn illithid ending), goes and fight the brain with their allies

commands the brain to destroy itself and all the tadpoles

cue epilogue !

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 32

Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Dark Urge

In which Sentry is a little shit to a certain Necromancer

Within the hour, the two were seated in a fairly fine black and gold carriage drawn by clockwork horses, the inside warm despite the chill of the night. Sentry and Enver sat across from eachother, the gnolls and Fel bundled in to the remaining space beside both of them. The road went from the peaceful darkness of night to an eerie fog that seemed oppressive, all consuming...almost evil. As they entered the strange fog, two enormous moon-light blue lights flooded the road from atop the carriage and Sentry peeked out the window in awe, grabbed and quickly pulled back to his seat by Enver. “The lights are a necessary precaution, my dear Exectutioner.” He explained, examining Sentry for any injury. “This area is cursed, blighted by Shar herself apparently. I've done some research while I was working on our little plan.” Sentry nodded sheepishly. “Sorry, the lights were interesting...also that creepy fog was sort of inspiring in a way...There's this story out of Neverwinter about a headless woman who patrols the roads on horseback, she was some sort of wicked paladin...Mum used to tell me the story before bed sometimes....probably a church parable in there somewhere, but really my favorite was she was looking to collect heads...there was this unsettling fog that heralded her...”

“Well, we may not find your headless knight here, but I assure you, dear Sentry, you'll find many things to inspire your work in Reithwin. It's rumored to be a cursed place inhabited by the undead, cursed by these shadows to walk in some horrid half life.” Enver explained. “That is what happens to those who travel without the protection of light or who stray from the path.”

“Fascinating.” Sentry breathed, turning his head to stare out the window, but careful not to lean towards it this time. The carriage came to a stop outside a shabby, crumbling old tower that looked like something out of one of those vampire stories that were so popular in the city lately. Sentry could imagine some stuff old noble sweeping down those steps in a red velvet cloak and charming Enver into his undead clutches, drinking the blood that was Sentry's to enjoy. He growled a bit before chastising himself. 'Calm down, Sentry, you're jealous of your own imagination.'

The door opened and the party stepped down from the carriage. Sentry grabbed a spare lantern from the side of the door. “Hey, I want to go look around, find some inspiration or maybe some new materials. You're better at negotiations anyway, love.” He kissed Enver on the cheek and then turned to face his own entourage. “Fel, you're in charge of my babies. Don't let them wander off and get cursed!” “Ah...yes, master.” Fel bowed, then looked to the gnolls and whistled. “Alright my fine fellows, orderly now! Step lively! Into the tower!” The gnolls looked at eachother, then at Sentry who nodded for them to obey, and then they began to lumber along after Fel who followed Enver to the tower.

Meanwhile, Sentry made his way through the town, breathing in awe at everything he saw around him. Bodies littered the ground, agonized shapes moved through the outskirts of the fog, and the buildings were crumbled ruins. Old blood still stained the pale stones. He could hear screams from the House of Healing, he could hear off key music and moaning from the tavern. The jingle of treasure from the toll house. “Lovely...We should have a summer home here.” He smirked. “Such a beautiful place to raise a child.” He made his way down the road to the old and crumbling graveyard, easily working the rusted gates open and beginning to examine the tombstones. He smiled at some of the more morbid inscriptions, many of them labeled with tragic deaths, early deaths, lovers torn apart by death.

A figure knelt mourning near a statue and Sentry approached, looking at the inscription. It was a large statue near the path to a grand tomb, it depicted a weeping elven woman with a serene face and the phases of the moon adorning her gown. “Ah, I love reading the dates on these graves, nothing more tragic than love stolen early...Take this poor fucker, for instance: Melodia Thorm, dead for....what, can't quite read it, but a few hundred years at least? And then this poor bastard Ketheric, no date...assuming he's an elf or something along those lines, he could very well still be alive and kicking. I almost feel sorry for him.” Sentry mused, stroking his chin as though in thought. The old man turned slowly to glare up at him, rising to his full, imposing height, a little bit taller than Sentry. He was dressed in armor adorned with screaming skulls and his long grey hair hung loose and stringy around his tired face, dark dead eyes stared at the tiefling with cold fury. “Oh shit, you're him then? Well, I stand by what I said. Ouch.” Sentry winced. “But...you're the necromancer as well, aren't you? So...” He gave him a questioning look and then his eyes darted to the grave. “Do you always run your mouth without thinking, boy?” The elf replied, his voice hollow, cold, ominous. “Guilty as charged. It's a bad habit of mine. They say a stream of consciousness can really help the creative process, however. I talk myself through my work quite a lot.” Sentry checked his long, sharp nails carelessly. “Then I assume you're Bhaal's mad dog. It makes sense you wouldn't need the benefit of tact to be his chosen.” The elf turned to leave. “Well, my partner Enver is the one in charge of the tact...SO, that being the case let me get right to what I have to say, since I know who you are now and all: Give me back my sisters or you'll be spending the rest of your immortal life as a chew toy for a pack gnolls.” Sentry stepped into Ketheric's path, blocking him.

“They slaughtered my caravan and made a nuisance of themselves. They will remain imprisoned in Moonrise until I decide what to do with them.” The stern old man replied, a look of annoyance crossing his face. “I would think slaughtering your caravan was a good thing for a necromancer, wouldn't that just mean you could bring back your servants more compliant and able to work without resting?” Sentry shot back, hand going to rest on his halberd. Thorm's eyes fell on the weapon and he gave a brief, wry look of amusement. “Try it, boy.” Sentry felt Father's voice telling him to slice the necromancer up, to make him hurt. He was necessary for the plan, but being unable to die, there was no reason not to indulge. Sentry held back, though. His eyes flicking from Ketheric to a cave in the distance, the path littered with ancient corpses, but otherwise well kept. The corpses wore the armor of Sharrans and Selunites. Time to change tactics. “Hey, what's in that cave over there?” Sentry jerked his head towards it to indicate what he meant. “I...what?” Ketheric blinked in confusion, not quite following the tiefling's rapid change of subject right away. “The one over there, it's part of the graveyard right? You know...I noticed your town doesn't have a place of worship...which is kind of weird for a paladin, presumably married to a cleric of some sort? I mean, the city itself has at least three or four temples, so...” Sentry pressed, stepping out of Ketheric's path to give the illusion of slinking past him towards the path to the cave. A heavily armored hand caught Sentry by the shoulder. “I'll return your sisters to you...your resurrected brother as well. Just....come back to the tower, we should discuss these plans your companion wrote to me about.”

So, he was sensitive about whatever was in there? Sentry made a mental note to send Orin or the recently revived Jackal down to have a look as soon as he could. What was this broken old man hiding? But for now, he pretended to give up asking, nodding his head and turning around on the path, beginning to stroll back towards the tower. “Yes, of course. I do hope your underlings have been more respectful to Enver than you've been to me.” Sentry grinned tauntingly. Ketheric shot him a look of pure venom and the two walked the rest of the way to Moonrise Tower in silence. The only sound permeating the oppressive darkness and quiet was the sound of their footsteps on the hollow stone and the occasional scream from the shadows.

[dragonuv3]

Arekkz Scrapheart and lore building an arms forger

First Picture drawn by the lovely @kobold-kurios​

All other images drawn by me.

So let me start this off by saying that I’ve never been THIS in depth with actually writing and drawing lore for a DnD character. Especially during a setting where magic (initially) is limited to clerics and paladins to a disaster in the first season.

Arekkz scrapheart is a Gnoll Artificer in the second season of Kobold’s Bards & Blades campaign. To describe him in a few words: driven, intelligent, exciteable, and intuitive. From his rural tribe to a big city to learn how to be an articifer, he’s managed to make a name for himself as a skilled artisan of the Stonecutter’s guild in Tulpio (the city both groups start in). He also is the sole proprieter of a shop called the Gnoll’n Arms.

Now getting into the main drive of this post.

Arekkz’s LOVED watching his people forge weapons ever since he was a pup, and took it upon himself to build his first makeshift weapon. And getting to the city of Tulpio, where he’s seen the people there try to replecate magic through alchemy and steampunk technology, his drive in life is to learn more about magic by “sciencing the shit out of it.”

Cue the MO for how he ends up making his weapons for people. Since I was building an artificer in a world without magic, the challenge would be to figure out certain limitations with how he earned his living, and how he cast spells in unconventional ways. I took a lot of inspiration from the usual aesthetics of gnoll weapons, and a lot from Austraila and Junkertown in Overwatch, while still trying to keep it classy enough for customers to want to come and get an excusive of Arekkz’s work. His trademark being bite indents made on the metal before the final treatment process.

The hardest part for me was to make the weapons he make seem almost like he got things from a junkyard and managed to make something not only functional, but aesthetically pleasing in a rough around the edges kind of way. The “boom stick” on the far right being a failure that didn’t mesh well. Not to mention I want to be able to explain just how they work in some instances without having to leave it to DM disgression. And I even started writing some notes about them in character.

Two of them I’m most proud of. First being the Spark Knife

Arekkz personal weapons are all able to help him with his special brand of spellcasting when not being exclusive to other alchemical components and mixtures (or specialized grenades). The Spark Blade in particular coming in a breakthrough for a personal project of his. A way to cast the Green-Flame Blade cantrip. The handle has compression switches on either side of the handle that causes a spark to emmit from just behind the blade that would ignite flammable vapors that (to the current session) Arekkz would spray and release from a vial.

The concept would actually help get an idea for how to make it work with a longer blade. In character, he had trouble replicating what he could do with the Spark Blade due to short swords and longswords either warping, losing sharpness, or not getting the right amoutn of destructive force needed while stress testing them. He ended up going back to the drawing board to figure out what about the Spark Blade worked, and he realized that the metal had enough mass and surface area to survive being used as a “spell focus”, and the materials used managed to keep it from falling apart.

With that in mind, he ended up forgoing the smaller swords and worked with a slab of metal to get a proper greatsword. And the result...

A successful prototype that survived multiple stress tests, and with it, finally given a name: “The Scrapyard Runt Mk.I” (A personal hommage to how HE started with forging). It’s still a work in process, but leaps and bounds farther than what he was able to do before. 

I’ll post more weapon sketches as we go deeper into the campaign, as Arekkz’ll probably be commissioned to do work for both HIS party and the Side A party that goes the day before us.

[thessalian]

Astrid vs Favours for Friends

On the road

Astrid: And we're sure your devil came this way?

Wyll: Absolutely. Just ... oh. That looks bad.

Astrid: Oh. Oh dear. He looks bad.

Badly Mauled Dwarf: You ... Pure ... servants of the Absolute... *dies*

Astrid: Um ... Shadowheart, I don't think words of healing are going to cut it for this.

Dwarf's Companions: Command us! What do we do now?

Astrid: Maybe ... don't stand around to get mauled by owlbears?

Dwarf's Companions: As you say! *exit, stage Somewhere Else*

Gale: This is getting stranger by the--Astrid, what are you doing?!?

Astrid: *digging parasite out of dead dwarf ocular socket* Something incredibly gross and that I really don't want to be doing but guess what? BRAIN-WORM DOESN'T FUCKING CARE!

Shadowheart; Gale; Wyll: Owowowow!

Astrid: Oh. I did the voice again, didn't I. Sorry. Look, just ... can we move on from this? This is really gross.

Gale: ...I hope she's going to be alright. She's not the sort that deals well with ... that ... sort of thing.

Shadowheart: I spy the perfect solution. *taps Astrid on the shoulder* There's a dog over there that looks in desperate need of comfort...

Astrid: ...........Puppy! *nyoom*

Gale; Wyll: .....................

Shadowheart: Shar doesn't bless stupid clerics.

A little further on, in a fort sort of half full of paladins of Tyr

Anders: Some devil-woman did this! I want her head!

Wyll: Karlach. Typical. Point the way.

Anders: I ... was going to offer you this sword if you bring back her head, so--

Astrid: It's ... sort of not necessary? We were going to do this anyway? Because ... you know, reasons? Also I don't think any of us can heft that thing since we made the githyanki go bye-bye.

Shadowheart: More like "githyanki go splat-spurt", but as you like.

Anders: If you bring me her head I am giving you this sword and you are not arguing with me about it.

Astrid: How about I just point you to the body so you have some piece of mind, and you keep your big stabby thing?

Anders: *glares*

Astrid: Okay, okay! Yeesh.

And, a little ways down the river

Astrid: ...She's got one of these parasites too? Were they having some kind of sale?

Wyll: Wait. I'm not sure she's strictly speaking a ... devil, as I understand them, from what I'm seeing in her head. But--

Astrid: Look, I don't know what's going on or what set you to killing her in the first place, but ... remember about sixty metres of carnage spread hell-for-breakfast across the road, and the bridge, and the inn?

Karlach: ...Fuck.

Stabnation: *ensues*

Later, at camp

Minora: Hello there!

Astrid: Um ... who invited the literal demon? I mean, phenomenal entrance, but ... you know, if you'd let me know you were coming, I would have set out another plate.

Wyll: ...Astrid, this is Minora, my ... my patron. Minora, this is Astrid, the apparent leader of this merry band of misfits.

Minora: Anyway, puppy, I just wanted to thank you for taking care of that silly little tiefling for me--

Wyll: So she really was a-- But you said it was just--!

Astrid: Wyll. Chill. Gnolls are kind of nasty but they are not finger painting materials. Though you could have just told me you're a warlock.

Wyll: I guess I thought ... well, if you knew where I got my powers, it'd be ... well...

Astrid: Wyll. Sweetie. I got my powers through the incredible power of swear words. We all have some weird.

Minora: ...Look, just take the shiny armour, remember the pact still stands, and I'll be in touch.

Astrid: *shouting down the literall hole to hell* Please call first, with a list of dietary requirements! We don't do souls, though; sorry!

Wyll: You are taking this remarkably well.

Astrid: Mind flayer tadpole. *taps temple* In head. Everything else is just icing on the Weird Cake.

Camp again, after a particularly hard day

Everybody: *apparently sleeping peacefully*

Astarion: *creeeeeeeps up to Astrid*

Astrid: *eyes still closed* Consent is a thing, Astarion...

Astarion: Oh. Shit. No, it's not what you think!

Astrid: I think you were going to suck my blood, is what I think.

Astarion: ...Oh. So it is what you think. How did you--?

Astrid: The "being in sun, crossing running water, crossing thresholds without an invitation" thing threw me for awhile, but remember, I got within head-butting distance of those teeth. Also I saw one of your meals - exsanguinated boar was not the ugliest thing I saw out there today, by the way. So ... I figured I guess you're trying to feed on me because you don't want to eat redcaps, or swamp rats like your master might have made you--

Astarion: ...Wait. You just dug that out of my head.

Astrid: Sorry, but ... even if I don't like using the various little niggles this parasite seems to be giving me ... you and I both know you were going to lie to me.

Astarion: Look, my master made me eat vermin, yes, but no, ordinarily I'd be fine to hunt! Just I left it too long and am too weak to hunt properly ... and also yes, you're right, anything I'd eat from here would probably poison me.

Astrid: Well, you could have asked first.

Astarion: I mean, yes, but honestly, you would have said no, and--

Astrid: *raises eyebrows*

Astarion: Wait. You ... wouldn't ... have said no?

Astrid: You remember that whole thing where everyone complains about my being an altruist? But yeah, that's why I started with 'consent is a thing, Astarion'. We need ground rules and a safe word but I don't want you to starve.

Astarion: ...Hot dog.

Astrid: Also because it keeps your fangs off Scratch.

The next morning

Wyll: You let him WHAT?!?

Gale: My sentiments precisely.

Shadowheart: I mean ... probably better this way, because we'd all just stake him, but ... if you kill her--

Astarion: I know, I know, smear across the landscape. Not that it'd be noticeable in this swamp anyway, but I take your point. I won't overstay my welcome in that regard.

Astrid: Oof. Yeah, that can't be a too-often thing. I'm glad that the success of most of what I cast is down to them resisting, not me having to aim anything...

Shadowheart: *glares at Astarion* I've got your back with Guidance cantrips. But ... how about we take on that hag after you've had a rest and some red meat? Replenish what you've lost, hmm?

Astarion: Aww, but you heard her. Most of hers is about resisting, and I would love to kill something right now.

Gale: Fine. But she gets to perch in the shadows slinging arrows ... or insults, whatever takes her fancy, and you get to be right in something's face!

Astarion: *griiiiiiins*

Gale: While I wish Astrid had said something sooner, I have to wonder why we didn't see this sooner. I mean, look at him!

Astrid: ...Gale? You ... should really pay more attention to the reading material I hand you...

Gale: Wait. What? *digs through expanded book collection* ..."Dhampir For Dummies"?

Astrid: Well, I wasn't going to actually out him; that's rude! Making sure you had all the information needed to connect the dots, though? That's common sense.

Gale: You've known her ... slightly longer than I have. Is this just ... how she is?

Shadowheart: Yes.

Astarion: Look, if you really want honesty, just consider that her blood is delicious, and if she dies? I don't get it anymore. If you can't believe anything good about me, how about believing that I will always, eternally act in my own self-interest, and that means protecting the leader and face-person who also happens to have truly ambrosial blood, hmm? If you need help imagining that, please understand that her safe word is "knickerweasels".

Gale: ...We should go after that hag. I think Astarion needs to recognise what he's in for if he presses his luck.

Wyll: Oh... you mean when she threw two redcaps about five metres with Thunderwave by clapping her hands together and shouting ... what was it, "yeet"?

Astrid: ...It worked with goblins. Redcaps are similarly aerodynamic.

Astarion: Oh I have to see this let's go kill something!

Gale: Right. So cheerfulness is a blood-borne pathogen. Good to know.

[zenatness]

Durge's tiefling party was... interesting.

I walked around, talking to everyone, wondering if anyone was going to mention the suspect markings in blood in the middle of camp. Nobody did. Is this what serial killers feel like when they gift their murder trophies to their loved ones and they walk around wearing them in public, completely oblivious to the ghoulishness of it all?

Kissed Wyll. Chatted up Karlach. Made overly suggestive comments to Halsin. Agreed to have some wine with Shadowheart. Ditched her when Astarion suggested sex. Durge is an asshole, and somehow nobody seems to mind. The whole team absolutely loves him. Approval ratings are in the 60-90s. Somehow. Paladin Tav looks on from a parallel universe in disbelief.

We visited the creche, mostly to steal the blood of Lathander. I was fully ready to nuke Astarion in the process, but it was like he knew what was coming. Not only did he discover a secret compartment but he then managed to roll a nat 20 on the second attempt of opening it and got his hand on the crest. Half-drow Ghaunafein (Durge) got to steal a holy relic of Lathander, Shadowheart got a very shiny mace, Astarion didn't get burned to a crisp, Lae'zel got to go to the creche. Everyone's happy.

Things went sideways and we had to kill the entire creche. Well. Had to is, perhaps, not entirely correct. Choose to go out of our way to do so. And got really irritated that we couldn't find the kids that knocked me over with mage hand despite checking every room, including the nursery. Outrageous.

We turned around and headed into the Underdark where Lae'zel and Shadowheart had an altercation. Our brave leader Ghaunafein took one look at the situation, went "not my problem" and went to bed. Woke up to Shadowheart with a knife at Lae'zel's throat. Still not his problem, please keep it down, good night. Naturally I put Lae'zel's body in the ribcage where I keep all the corpses. It would have been rude to just leave her behind. Shadowheart somehow didn't take this uncaring attitude as a warning sign that getting involved with Ghaunafein was a bad idea, and shortly after invited him to share that bottle of wine again.

The camp started to feel dreadfully empty and it dawned on me that we're going to have issues going forward if my only tank is Karlach. I had but one hope.

I got to act 2 and... alas, Minthara did, in fact, not survive despite surviving the raid.

The disappointment was too much. I downloaded the Daughter of Lolth mod, fought with it until it worked, and now all is well. Turns out, Minthara does not get a new set of clothes if you steal them from her unconscious body so she had to stand trial in her undies. I'm glad I was generous and let her keep those, or that would have been even more uncomfortable for everyone involved. It certainly gave the scene a completely different vibe than I think Larian wanted it to.

Due to the Fighting (tm), I also got to see how much more Ketheric reveals about your past when Minthara is there. It was neat. Get a mad dog to judge a mad dog, indeed. People in Moonrise also keep recognizing Durge though they don't seem to know you, and the gnolls? The gnolls remember you and they like you. We're friends. I'm not sure I can murder my way through the tower now, I want my gnoll pals to survive. Where's the patch that let us recruit them?

I returned to camp and found Halsin just chilling with Minthara in her undies. I like to think that I got a solid 20 approval from him for this, considering his fondness for drow. I somehow did not get approval from Minthara when I gave her both casual clothes and armor though. Probably because I was still walking around in her casual clothes and refused to return them to her.

The trustworthy heart of the party and most desirable man alive. Apparently.

[balthazarslostlibrary]

for my love, my darling, my dearest, esther

1-- What memory would your OC rather just forget?

20-- Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

25-- What is your favorite thing about your OC?

Ah, Esther, one of my favourites. I knew that I would have to do some Esther writing since I asked for prompts, and I am happy to oblige.

Also cw for thoughts of worthlessness

1. The winds of the desert howl around Esther as she stumbles through the endless waste of sand and dead ruins. It's just the start of evening, she made sure to wait until the rays of the sun weren't so scorching as to impede her escape into the dunes, leaving the rest of the party sleeping soundly while she quietly slipped away. A newly made ghoul, escaping in the night. How cliché.

Esther curses as she trips on something hidden just underfoot by the sand. For a moment she thinks she sees the charred boot of Paladin Var, the man she played a part in murdering the day before, but a second glance shows it is only a rock. Esther stays staring at it for a long time before trudging onwards.

'I wonder if they will find me.' She thinks as the sand buffets her rag-covered body. After almost two weeks being starved of flesh, the ghoul's thoughts are sluggish and tired, and they swing wildly from the nausea and pain in her stomach, to her many guilty thoughts from the previous day. 'I wonder if they'll even come looking.' She thinks 'I wouldn't.'

20. Esther sits in the temple garden awaiting the two gnolls who are set to be Taralin's traveling companions and honour guard. She is now a high priestess, a far cry from three months before when she first became a ghoul, and she bears that responsibility with a self-assured and confident manner. Esther is now a woman with a lot of social power, and a lot of physical power, two things she needs to remind herself that the gnolls will respond to.

A gasp of surprise from one of the other faithful in the garden signals to Esther that the gnolls, Eats Many Birds and Sand in the Nose, have arrived. Despite what she has told people, many still are shocked at the appearance of the huge hyena-folk that never seem to have their weapons far away from their persons. The pair look strangely awkward in the garden and are clearly lacking in the bolshy swagger they gain when with the rest of their clan. 'Good' Esther thinks as she waves them over, standing as she does.

"Why have you called us here, Taralin-pulûrz?" Eats Many Birds, the larger and more confident of the pair asks bluntly. Esther's mind races to translate the unfamiliar term from Abyssal to common, but keeps her expression and stance confident with her chin sticking out 'Now, ûrz, that's an adjective right? And pul, that's...sex?!' Esther struggles not to show a flicker of surprise before understanding dawns, 'oh, Taralin's mate, that's what he means.'

"Yes, you are to be the Flind's guard on his travels." Esther replies bluntly, rolling her shoulders in what she hopes is the right body language for a mild threat to gnolls. "I know that your people value the powerful as mates, but know this." She steps forward, causing Sand in the Nose to step back in submission slightly; Eats Many Birds however, does not move. "Taralin is mine." Esther bares her teeth and bites the air in front of the male gnoll's snout, challenging him. "Don't even dare to court him, or I will find you and challenge you, and you don't want to take up that challenge." Her words are barely more than a snarl to get the point across to the defiant gnoll.

After a long moment, Eats Many Birds also backs down and looks away "Kultazash, Priestess, so it shall be." He mumbles and stays standing beside Sand in the Nose, who hasn't said anything throughout the entire encounter. "Good." Esther replies, somewhat surprised that it was that easy and momentarily slipping out of gnoll body-langauge. After catching herself once more, she nods, "go now, and tell the others of the clan what I have told you now." She commands. It is only after the pair slink out of sight with tails drooping that Esther relaxes, and she lets out a huge sigh of relief as not having to brawl in the temple gardens. Sitting down once more, the corner of her mouth twitches into a smile. It was maybe a jealous impulse to be so aggressive towards the pair, but after all, Esther thinks, Taralin is mine! And she wouldn't put it past members of the clan to try something. Her only hope now is that the news of the High Priestess willing to challenge a gnoll doesn't put her in the potential pool of powerful and eligible people.

25. Graszha holds onto Esther quietly and tightly in the twilight before dawn as they lay in the soft bed, a mobile of feathers and shiny stones gently spinning above the pair. It has been a hard day, with many people bringing many problems to Esther the High Priestess, that she's barely had any time to be Esther the Person. Fortunately, Graszha the Child has forced her away from her temple duties by virtue of needing to be put to bed.

Laying in the soft silence, Esther thinks of all the duties that she needs to complete tomorrow, until she is brought out of this by Graszha crying out from a bad dream. "Shhhh shhh little one, it's alright, I'm here, it's not real. Yes, try to go to sleep again. No I'm not leaving, don't you worry." The words are almost scripted at this point with how regularly they are said, but it never becomes less fulfilling for Esther to see Graszha settle back down once more and fall asleep. Out of all her roles in life, she likes Esther the Mother most of all.

[thebard490]

Paladins Chapter 5: A Going Away Party

Too weary to travel any more, the paladins decided to stay the night after committing the remains of the halflings to the river. They simply burned the gnoll corpses. Not even Kazador wanted to loot those. As the party began to bed down, Peregrin seemed unusually focused on his food preparation, and asked Kazador to drag over the remnants of the feasting table.

“Alright laddie baut why are ye so big on the food. It was a good day of slaying but nae great battle, just takin care o’ some animals.”

“It’s not about that. It’s for a going away party.”

“What? Yer nae going to leave us after today are ye?” Kazador said shocked.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. It’s part of my people’s tradition that when one of us dies, the rest of their kin hold a feast to say goodbye. I don’t think I can make jerky and hardtack that much of a feast, but I owe it to them to try.”

“As amusing as that might be to watch my dear, I think I can handle the food tonight.” The party turned as a new voice speaks from behind them to see a halfling woman with golden hair leaning on a quarterstaff, standing before a burrow that most certainly wasn’t there a moment ago. “It’s only right that heroes see a reward.”

The party was intensely suspicious, but every instinct seemed to say that she heard no ill intent. She seemed downright matronly, and she looked kindly at Peregrin. “Come now. I know things are not always as they seem, but you know me Peregrin. Not all that is gold glitters, nor are all who wander lost. That which is good does not wither, and spring cannot die to the frost.”

Peregrin’s eyes widened, and a small grin spread across his face. “The altar catching that strike wasn’t just luck was it?”

”Very few things are ever just luck my dear.” The halfling woman replied, twinkles in her eye and a knowing smile on her face. “Thank you for the help with that creature as well Ms. Zarathustra.” Senket became very still, as the rest of the party wondered at her name.

”Come come, the food is getting cold and the night is getting dark. Tis not wise to linger in grim places such as this in the dark.” She invited as she went and opened the door to the burrow. Golden light billowed into the late twilight, and the black vines could not retreat quickly enough, burning away before it.

After some hesitation, the party entered, and were greeted with a heavenly aroma and warmth. Their weariness and wounds seemed to slip away as a divine serenity washed over them. Before them lay a long table with seats for each one, a feast for all upon it. Silver carp and braised trout on a bed of greens, roasted pork tenderloin in mushroom sauce. Steaming bowls of thick potato and leek soup, freshly baked loaves of bread with a golden brown crackling crust, mugs of dark ale foaming, silver wines in tall glasses, strawberry cordials, honey cakes, candied chestnuts, and in the center a platter of strange dark meat which only Senket seemed to recognize.

The Paladins took their seats, but Jort stood hesitant, before Peregrin invited him to sit opposite him in the last remaining chair. Their host raised her glass solemnly. “For those of you who have passed away, we raise these drinks in your memory, we break this bread in celebration of your rest in the golden fields, and we delight in this feast, answering mourning with joy, and departure with the promise that all shall be made new.”

The party dug in, Senket piling her plate high with the strange dark meat. Julian took pause and asked, “What is that?”

”Stegosaurus.” Senket practically moaned as she attacked the meal with the ferocity of a nesting dragoness.

Kazador drank from his mug and his eyes went wide. “Jofur’ Beard! This is Boltman’s Brew!” He said as he poured everyone else some. “”Vintage two thirty-nine if I’m nae mistaken. Ye must try this! Jofur smite me if I let this masterpiece go unappreciated!”

Yndri took hers and passed him a glass of the pale wine in return. “Fine, but you try that and see how you make proper alcohol.” She drank and her eyes practically bulged out of her head. The beer was heavy and bittersweet, smooth as slate washed by rains, strong as single malt whiskey, with hints of old oak and dark chocolate. “Ye gods, no wonder you dwarves are so doughty, it’s like you managed to brew the mountains into a drink!”

“Aye lassie let’s see what ye pansy elves think true alcohol I-“ he stood as he drank the pale wine. It was bright as a blue star on his tongue, a strong berry wine clear and strong as a clarion call, sweet and sour with blackberry. It was like drinking a cool spring evening, an icy fire that chilled the veins and brightened the mind. “By the stars and stones! It’s light as air but burns in yer belly an’ veins better than whiskey! Did ye brew this with grapes er starlight?”

Laughter and feasting proceeded for the next two hours until they lay satisfied, full, and in the case of Kazador and Yndri, exceedingly drunk. Those two laid back in their chairs, singing songs that seemed to flow from dwarvish to elvish to common to draconic to something else entirely with no real rhyme or reason. Senket lay in her chair in what was best described as a food coma, dreaming of dinosaur barbecue. Julian polished off another loaf of bread, smiling for once and very happy to have his helmet off. Jort was busy devouring the candied chestnuts and attempting to store as many as possible on his person.

Peregrin sipped his cordial thoughtfully. “Thank you for all this, and for everything else Queen Est-“

The halfling woman shushed him before he can finish that name. “Give credit where it’s due, I’m just a helper same as you. Just one who’s been around the bend.”

”Ah. Well then, thank her for me when you see her next.” Peregrin said sheepishly.

The halfling woman smiled at him and looked around at the rest. “Heroes never come in anything but motley crews. Fate is a funny mistress, even if she’s cruel too often.” She remarked and looked at him. “You’ll have all at once easier than the rest and harder than them all put together, but it had to be this way I suppose.”

Peregrin opened his mouth to ask a question, and then shuts it “If you could tell me you probably would have already.”

“That’s the problem with foresight, you can’t very well tell anyone anything clearly without making a mess of it all, but you’ve got to tell them the riddles and the hints so that they’ll go where they need to. Such a headache, especially when you have to tell it in a way that they’ll try to stop it and bring it about in the process. Nasty business, made me glad I’m dead and don’t have to bother with it except once every few centuries.”

“So, you’re a ghost?”

“In a manner of speaking. Things are thin here, the walls between all worlds are paper, easily broken, but still bearing a load. Easily pierced, but never without consequence. So I’m a bit more than a ghost and a bit less than living for the night. Speaking of which you should get some sleep, you’ve a long road ahead, though help should be arriving shortly.” Peregrin shrugged and just accepted it, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

He was awoken by a rough tongue licking his face and opened his eyes to see a particularly large golden retriever with a saddle on its back looking down at him expectantly. It barked happily, tail wagging furiously, the sound rousing the others. They were outside on the green, with no sign of the strange woman or her burrow. They were full, well rested, and best of all, not hungover.

As they took stock of their surroundings, they found each one of them had been gifted with a small bag. To their delight they each found something already there. Kazador found five bottles of Boltman’s Special. Yndri found a set of arrows entirely made of silver. Senket found more coffee and a set of three scrolls, and Peregrin found only a small bag of dust, that gleamed like burnished brass in the shadows of the bag. An attached note read “for when the day is darkest”

Julian puzzled over his gift. It was clearly instructions for a spell, but he had no idea what exactly it did. Naturally, he did what any amateur wizard did and cast it to find out. He pointed his finger away from the rest of the party, expecting perhaps some manner of blazing blast, or the conjuration of some powerful arcane ally. What he got was a loaf of bread, which fell out of the sky and onto the ground. He picked it up, turned it over, and took an experimental bite. Not only was the bread real, but it was also delicious. He immediately took out a small spellbook and transcribed the spell into it, declaring it to be named “Unlimited Bread Works”.

Kazador looked up from his gift and suddenly saw a scaled creature, built like a horse but standing on its hind legs. The thing had a flat head, and a mouth a bit like a horses, and a bit like a ducks. It had a moderately fat body, ridged back, and powerful looking tail. The entire thing was covered in mottled brown and dark green scales, making it look somewhat like the bottom of a pond. “What in the nine hells is that?”

”Mine.” Senket said with a grin as she walked over and patted her iguanodon on the flank. It turned to nuzzle her affectionately, the connection immediately formed. “Arvidor. Your name is Arvidor.”

”Sen, we need to have a talk if you’re going to be summoning devils.” Yndri said politely when she was interrupted by the sound of hooves. A magnificent elk cantered up to her. The great beast more the size of a moose, with proud horns and a fine coat the color of fallen leaves. Its eyes were bright with keen intellect, and about it a fey aura hung, potent with magic and the smell of harvest season. “Well then, a pleasure to meet you Pan.” She greeted the great stag. “It seems we’ve been granted quite the boon. Though I still have no idea what that creature of yours is.”

“An iguanadon. They’re extinct everywhere but Muab. Personally I would have preferred an allosaur, but ah well.” Julian noted. His own steed soon approached out of the shadows, stepping from them as if it were formed entirely of them. It was a magnificent black charger, with neither marking nor blemish, save for mane and tail red as fire. It strode like a thing out of a faerie tale, already barded for war, but with no bit in its bridle. It was the steed of a worthy knight, but its eyes were fell and terrible, glimmering with cruel intellect and hidden fires. Even the paladins, mighty as they were, gazed warily upon the proud stallion, as it bowed its head to Julian. The Nephilim smiled, and patted his horse, running his hands over its hot mane. “Ah, and now you are come to me. You are Bucephalus. Together we will stand astride the world.”

“Well, that’s certainly something.” Peregrin mentioned as he watched the horse that was almost certainly not a horse. The giant golden retriever licked his face. “Agh, yep, Zeke is exactly your name.” He joked and began to pet the oversized dog. “Though yours is certainly well suited for you Jules. I wonder where Kaz’s is. It’s going to have to be quite the steed to carry him.” As if to answer, there then came a snuffling, snorting sound coming from the brush.

”What is that?” Yndri asked concernedly.

”War pig.” Kazador said nonchalantly.

”War pig? Wouldn’t that be a bit short for you?”

Kazador barked a command in dwarven, and a titanic boar hog grumbled out of the brush and plopped down for him to get on. The creature was utterly massive, closer in size to a bison or perhaps a small elephant rather than a pig. It was undoubtedly fat, but carried twice as much muscle, a powerful creature that was undoubtedly the slowest of the steeds, but clearly dwarfed them (no pun intended) in brute force and raw mass. It was a creature built for battle, and covered in the scars of battles hard won. Its tusks were ivory-bright, its bristled fur black over dark flesh. His eyes were bright with wintry magic, its breath too cold for a creature its size. It was girded in silvery metal that had no iron, to ward it from the armor of its master, for fey was its nature and cold iron its bane. It had come out of long winter and many nights, old, wise, and onery.

”War pig. Sized for me. Jort, you’re with Julian.” Kazador said matter of factly. Jort stared dumbfounded at the gigantic pig for a moment, then nodded and mounted up.

”Well then. I think we are far overdue at a certain captain’s court.” Julian said as he turned his charger back towards the main road. “Onwards! To Bloodstone Abbey!”

[gynandromorph]

we've gotten to the part where it gets scary, the enemies' damage is higher than my team's HP and their HP is higher than my damage without extra attacks or level 3 spell slots because of the awkward leveling stages, and i have like 0 tadpole powers. i've tried to fight everything i thought i had a fair chance against but the fight against the gnolls by the cave and fighting the goblins in the camp outside were both close to TPKs, with the latter being AFTER i poisoned the beer to kill quite a few of them and only salvageable because of the durge cape jesster was wearing that let them basically perpetually stay invisible by picking off enemies with magic missile -- only works as far as the spell slots last. i spent some time after that respecing my paladin uh-oh because she was straight up killed to death in both battles, apparently starting sorcerer and multiclassing paladin DOESN'T give me heavy armor proficiency, but i didn't have the gold to buy heavy armor anyway. after lovingly placing all of the goblin trader's inventory and gold into a backpack so it wouldn't despawn after he was killed, i had enough gold, made her paladin/sorc instead of sorc/paladin, and her AC has gone from 14 to a healthy 20. i equipped her with the flail that heals you on a hit and let her hold a shield for now. once we hit level 5 it should get at least a little bit easier because my two tavs will finally get a feat and shadowheart can spec into wizard and help with damage. i will consider bulking all of them considerably with tough and/or high constitution.

[flowersdaggersviolasandblood]

Blood, Flesh, and Tears

Name: Torment (He/Him)

Race: Zariel Tiefling

Class: Paladin (Oath of Vengence)

Background: Haunted One

Continuing with the Torment run for a moment, I decided to pop off Raphael's quest so that it's in the quest board to do later. After fighting some Kuo-Toa and fighting some slimes, I decided to run over to Moonrise Towers. After seeing the kickass Ketheric Thorm intro, I went around silently taking out the scrying eyes. But I was able to explore a bit more. One, it seems Torment is known at Moonrise Towers! Apparently, Torment, in the unknown past, has been in Moonrise Towers. I discovered this when I decided to speak with a cat named Steelclaw. They made mention that they saw Torment and hissed at them when they first met. I killed the little guy, but this would be far from the last person who recognized Torment.

While exploring, I dispatched a few individuals quietly and when I took out Linsella, there was another surprise. Now, I may have unlocked this because I still had Speak with Animals active on Torment, but the mind controlled Gnolls rejoiced when they saw that Torment has returned. Another hint that Torment has been to Moonrise Towers before. There's one final person I discovered during this gameplay moment, but we'll get into that later. After checking out the mystery flesh wall, Torment and the gang went down into the prison to free the Tieflings and Deep Gnomes. This is where Torment met the Tiefling Warden who remembered Torment was given special privilege during his stay at Moonrise, but didn't elaborate why he was cut off.

After dispatching all the guards, Torment freed the Tieflings and Deep Gnomes. Now, something I gotta comment on. So, Rolan's siblings are jailed her and they, for whatever reason, despite the fact that Torment saved them from the Druid Grove, they just assumed that Torment was with them...Which...Ok, I can understand Torment might seem sussy because the Absolute cultists allowed Torment and his crew to freely roam about and talk freely with the other members. But I think my first reaction to seeing my savior from the Emerald Druids and the Goblins would be a smidge of hope before just outright going "fuck you, you're with the absolute >:(."

Regardless, Torment was able to free them safely and send them to Last Light Inn. Also, I found the mystery flesh pit again, but I decided to go in through the hole because I thought it would send me to the other side of the flesh pit so that I could find Zevlor. However, it sent me to the same area. So looks like we still got some exploring to do if we want to find Zevlor.

Before freeing the Tieflings, as I was in the process of getting rid of the cultists at the docks, we were able to discover that there's a whole barrel full of Mindflayer parasites that is destined to Baldur's Gate and perhaps more is on the way to the city. Shadowheart makes the suggestion that we can utilize it against Moonrise Towers, which that remains to be seen atm.

We also met Araj and Torment supported Astarion not wanting to bite the Drow. However, Torment did agree to give his own blood in exchange for a special elixir specifically made for him. Unlike with Admaer, where this jumpstarted their relationship, Astarion and Torment simply had a 1-on-1 about how he's free to make his own decisions now that he's away from Cazador. Torment was able to find the Githyanki disk where it talks about Prince Orpheus and had Lae'zel translate it for him. While explore the Tower, I was able to reach Ketheric's bedroom with an undead dog guarding the room. Unfortunately, Shadowheart was the one who spoke with the dog and failed in the animal handling check to calm the creature.

After exploring as much of Moonrise as possible, we went over to the mausoleum. One thing I noticed is that there is a dialogue option when Lae'zel is at camp and you go deeper into the Cursed Lands, there's a option to bring up about Lae'zel having not met with her people at the creche yet. At this point, I tried to avoid this because I didn't want her to leave the party. But when I ventured deeper into the temple of Shar, her campsite was no longer there.

Not only that, but while exploring the mausoleum, we found something interesting! So in the area where we can solve a puzzle to reach the Gauntlet of Shar, there's a open coffin in the area with a plaque that says "He lies Isobel Thorm." Now, this time around in this playthrough, I've connected the dots a bit better. Back in my Pero playthrough, I made the assumption that Thorm was mourning his mother and that's why he turned evil. But no, the person he lost was his wife, and he already had, what may be half-elf, children. While his other children turned to the worship of Shar with him, it seems Isobel kept to Selune. It also make it exceptionally interesting that Isobel is to be kidnapped instead of killed because he might've wanted to force her into undeath. Now, I'm just speculating there, but that may be something he wants.

Regardless, this time around, because I know better, when the Party met the three skeletons who had a parasite controlling them, one was left alive after fighting some Shar spirits. Following them, I was able to meet Balthazar and was able to "accept" the quest to look for a way to reach the Nightsong. We were also able to gain his BABY BROTHER!?!?! So that flesh golem is actually Balthazar's miscarriage baby brother whom his mother blamed Balthazar for his twin's death. In response, his mother is in a jar in the room.

I also learned that there's a Shar worshipper in the temple of Shar that's become a swarm of rats...So that's something. After dealing with Raphael's rival and learning the meaning behind Astarion's scars. Like Pero, Torment agreed to help Astarion and take down his former master. However, we gotta talk about Shadowheart. Now, Torment is starting to not vibe with Shar, especially after experiencing and reading up on what people who worship Shar do and stand for. If it comes down to it, Torment will kill Shadowheart if she intends to fully devote herself to Shar as a Dark Justiciar.