#no idea baldur's gate's population

[daily-sloop-john-b]

I know someone's commented on this before, but 7000 people—1000 per spawn—over 169 years (Sabastian's 170 - 1 year buried alive) is 5.9 victims/year.

That's really fucking inefficient.

Either Astarion's VASTLY overstating his skill, or there was a lot more torture in the torture:luring ratio than he likes to recall.

[spacebarbarianweird]

“one who moves among hearts” being a possible translation of Astarion’s name is brutal.

If we take this translation as intentionally chosen opposed to real world names where meaning is usually not thought of beyond cultural background. like being named “Michael” because it means “gift from god” (one translation) vs. the name was just in the Bible so it was used

If his parent CHOSE “Astarion” with that intent, they probably meant it as “we want you to be somebody who experiences so much love in your life”

But another interpretation of the phrase “one who moves among hearts” could be somebody who plays with people’s emotions. The heartbreaker.

Which is what Cazador forced him to be. Cazador sent him and the other spawn to catch prey, and unless the most recent patch removed it, there’s basically a Kama Sutra in the room Astarion says he brought victims to. Meaning the seduction ploy was, more likely than not, Cazador’s idea.

Also “tar/taér” being the equivalent of a diminutive and common for an elf’s childhood/first name, something they use until they reach 100 when they get to pick their own and are seen as a full adult in elven society… you think Astarion had to specifically avoid elves?

By a multi species society’s standard he’d be treated as an adult, but an elf hears that diminutive and they’re 100+? They’d probably recoil like when somebody in their 20s realizes a teenager is flirting with them.

Like, could they go with Astarion? Yes, but it would probably get the same sort of side eye as like a 24yr getting with an 18yr. It’s technically okay, but it’s so close to Not Okay that people keep an eye out.

Do you think after endgame that’s something he thinks about? He’s been “Astarion” for twice as long as he should’ve, but it’s also something from his life that Cazador couldn’t take away. He doesn’t remember what he looks like, he doesn’t remember his own eye color.

We don’t know what his relationship with his family was like before, he doesn’t mention them. Which I take to mean he was a transplant to Baldur’s Gate. Maybe he had a good relationship with them but they didn’t live at the Gate, maybe he didn’t and moved to get away. Either way, his name is one of the last and most tangible things from before Cazador that I think he’d have a hard time picking a new one, if he wants to at all.

That's a very interesting point! Thank you for sharing! I actually think Astarion isn't a baby name. Elven baby names are short: Arya, Bryn, Del, Eryn. Tav sounds like an Elven baby name as well. Meanwhile adult Elven names sound like that: Ivellios, Laucian, Quarion, Soveliss etc. Astarion is definetely an adult name in form. Why did he have it though, since he was a child according to Elven standarts?

I have two theories 1) People know the difference between baby Elven names and adult Elven names. So, Astarion just chose an adult name prematurily upon starting his career. I think a lot of Elves start using adult names early in life to look older. Plus they definetely fantasize about what names they are going to take once they hit 100 years. 2) This is a weird theory, but bear with me. There are almost no Elves in Baldur's Gate. Especially, Elven nobility. But there is plenty of Half-Elves. Almost everyone with pointy ears is a person with mixed ancestry. Also, Elves are very delicate and short. Astarion doesn't look like one. He has a human male body structure and if it wasn't for his ears, no one would think he is a pure Half-Elf.

Now let's remember the lessons on genetics, especially Mendelian inheritance. If you have the whole population of Half-Elves (mixed descendants of Elves and Humans), you can get children who inherit only one combination of ancestral features. Two Half-Elves will probably conceive a Half-Elven child but there is a chance the kid inherit Human features from both parents or ... Elven features, getting the same set of genes from Elven grandparents.

So, what if Astarion is like that? He was born in Baldur or its area to the Half-Elven family. Despite being a High Elf, he still has some Human features (ambitions and the body type). And because his folks had little to no idea what Elven society looks like, they gave him an Elven name not knowing it's an adult one. And that would explain why Astarion doesn't have a family to come back to. Half-Elfs live up to 200 years. His parents are dead, people he grew up with are dead. And he is just this "stray" High Elf who wo't be accepted by Elves because he is descendants to Humand and Half-Elves.

[rinwellisathing]

Papa Bhaal's House of Horrors: Part 1

“Fuck fuck fuck...Why did you piss him off, Aryn?” The young elven woman sobbed, sliding down to a sitting position, legs not able to carry her any further as she hugged her knees to her chest. “You should've left him alone, why'd you piss him off?” “Hey it's not my fault, Brynna! How was I supposed to know he was crazy?” The human shot back, pressing his back to the door of the shed as it strained against the vicious knocks against it from the outside. “Guys...please stop fighting, the Fist will be here soon, I'm sure...it's gonna be okay we just have to stay calm and....” The dwarf was cut off as she and the human were thrown across the shed as the door splintered, sending them sprawling. Four pairs of glowing eyes lit up the darkness and the blade of an axe gleamed in the pale moonlight. Screams pierced the night. ----

“Good afternoon, Moonrise County. It's Alfira coming to you from Last Light FM, your local source for weather, traffic, news, and some good mood tunes. It's getting chilly as harvest season begins, so druids get those crops harvested quickly now. We are also likely to see rain for the holiday weekend, tough break for those last minute tourists looking for a woodland get away. Traffic heading towards Baldur's Gate is at a stand still thanks to a stopped vehicle across the roadway. Now here's our chart topping local favorite three years running, The Sirens' cover of local folk song 'Down By The River'” Alfira removed her headset and nodded her head gratefully as her partner handed her a cup of coffee and the morning paper. “Thanks Lakrissa...” She took a sip and then eyed the headline. “More tourists disappeared, huh?” “Yeah, fifth group this year....I think the cult is getting restless.” Lakrissa grinned, her tone sing-song and teasing. “There's no cult, Lakrissa. Honestly it's probably just overconfident city people getting lost in the woods without enough supplies. It's sad, but not some crazy murder conspiracy.” Alfira frowned, shaking her head. “And I'm not going to entertain the idea it is and get everyone in a tizzy.” “But it's fall, Alfira. Spooky season! Don't you wanna do a little themed broadcast and get those numbers up?” Lakrissa's grin widened, eager and excited. “Gods know the station could use it.” Alfira stifled a laugh and looked deadpan at her lover. “Lakrissa, it's Moonrise County, population like...MAYBE two hundred at best...Those numbers aren't going anywhere.”

--- “Move it a little to the left, Orin.” Sentry frowned, making a frame with his hands and scanning the hanging corpse dangling from a meat hook in the shed. His little sister repositioned the head just a little closer to the shoulder, slightly off from where it would naturally have been, and looked quizzically at her brother. “Yeah! Perfect! Just like that!” He reached into the pocket of his denim cut offs and produced a heavy needle and some waxed thread. “Now just hold it steady.” “There's room for a second head at this angle, slaughter-kin.” Orin pointed out with a grin as blood dripped down the front of her hand sewn red dress. “Shit, you're right. What are we thinkin', pig? Sheep?” Sentry pondered as he moved the needle expertly through the skin, sewing the head into place. Orin pranced over to a cold chest in the corner of the shed and lifted the lid with a pale, thin arm, one long braid swinging over her shoulder as she peered inside and began to poke around. She ran her hands over the various heads the freezer contained, finally gripping a pair of horns and lifting it with a grin. “Mmm...This one!” She smirked, holding up the head of a dark grey goat, its strange yellow eyes gazing sightlessly forward.

“Great choice, little sister.” Sentry grinned, beckoning her back over as he finished his final stitch. “Now, just place it in position, and....” He paused a moment, ears pricking up at the sound of a car horn outside.

Orin grimaced and rolled her eyes, making a gagging noise as she watched her brother scamper to the door of the shed and throw it open, rushing out the door, waving eagerly as the deep emerald green convertible parked on the long dusty drive of the 'manor'. Polished black shoes, far too nice for this bumblefuck of a place, stepped from the car, followed by designer black slacks with gold embroidery and then a matching jacket over a deep green button down, the top five or so buttons undone revealing gold chains resting against a next of dark chest hair, a glimmering obsidian pendant in the shape of a clawed hand hanging from one. The man had deep tan skin, a few scars at his chin and cheeks, a nose that had never quite healed right after being broken more than a few times, and unkempt stubble. He wore a pair of stylish dark glasses and his messy black hair was just barely brushed. Still, Sentry fawned over this guy like he was a rock star. “Envyyyyy” Sentry grinned as he made his way over to the newcomer, swaying his hips as he did, unable to keep his tail from wagging like an excited puppy. “ Is this a social call or d'you have a job for us?” The tiefling asked, standing practically up against the human, one long nailed finger tracing that magnificent chest hair absently. “I'm afraid I'm here on business, dear Sentry, but then again, a bit of pleasure wouldn't go amiss, I suppose....if you aren't busy.” Enver's eyes cast towards the shed even as his hands rested on Sentry's hips. Those tacky, tattered denim shorts certainly made the younger tiefling a tempting little distraction. “Well he IS busy, oil-slick interloper.” Orin frowned, folding her arms across her thin chest, eyes narrowed. “We were just in the middle of a project!”

“Interloper, hmm? That's a big word for such a little girl.” Enver chuckled. “And also inaccurate, you know I have an understanding with your family, I provide my services in the procurement of victims, I make sure they don't leave the county, and in return, I acquire information, valuables, et cetera that you have no use for. I am a perfectly welcome guest, why, one could call me part of the family almost.” He ran a hand down Sentry's bare thigh, earning a gentle purr from the tiefling. “What ever you say, lickspittle. But my brother and I were in the middle of creating art! You can't simply pull him away.” The little girl huffed, her expression murderous. “Aww, Orin, don't worry, I'll come back in a bit...Can't be a poor host, though, can I?” Sentry chuckled, grabbing Enver by the hand and leading towards the house, hips swaying as he did. ---- “It's getting chilly as harvest season begins, so druids get those crops harvested quickly now. We are also likely to see rain for the holiday weekend, tough break for those last minute tourists looking for a woodland get away. Traffic heading towards Baldur's Gate is at a stand still thanks to a stopped vehicle across the roadway. Now here's our chart topping local favorite three years running, The Sirens' cover of local folk song 'Down By The River'” The radio crackled through the speakers of the used but well cared for car that made its way down the winding backroads of Moonrise County's deep woods. “Aww...well, there goes the idea of stopping for a picnic or something.” Jaina frowned as she leaned back in the seat, pulling her hoodie closer around her shoulders. “Though in fairness, that's on me for not putting the better jacket up front.”

“You know you can always borrow mine.” Wyll smiled gently, squeezing her hand, keeping his other hand firmly on the wheel. “And anyway, it's not TOO far outside of the city, so once we're settled in we can come back if you see the perfect picnic spot.” He beamed, eyes focused on the road ahead. Neither of them saw what tore through their tires. There was nothing visible there in the road ahead of them, but within a moment, there was the tell tale POP! Sound and their car swerved and bumped, Wyll trying to regain control as they swerved into a ditch by the side of the road. The car rolled and flipped, Jaina clinging tightly to the handle above the window while Wyll gripped the wheel tightly, their faces set in looks of shock as the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal filled the air. Finally, the dust settled and the car rested precariously on its side. “Hells! Are you alright?” He quickly looked to Jaina with concern. She winced as she sat up in her seat. “Yeah, my skin's tough, remember? Not a scratch...I'm just a little shaken up. What about you?” She reached to run her fingers across his face, searching for any scrapes or cuts where the window glass might have hit him. Thankfully nothing. “Same.” Wyll confirmed, reaching for his seat belt. “But we're not likely to get any further like this...Maybe we ought to get out and try and flag down some help.” Jaina quirked a brow as she undid her own seatbelt. “On this dead stretch? We'd probably be better off trying to find a town or a phone or something.” Wyll clamored out of the car, managing to force his door open and climb out, holding out his hand to help Jaina to follow him. Wyll sighed dejectedly and shook his head. “You're right...I don't think I've seen one other car the entire time we've been driving.”

Both of them peered down the long, foggy stretch of highway that had come from Waukeen's Rest. The highway stretched on into the mist before fading into a thick copse of trees as far as the eye could see. They both turned to look ahead, Jaina's sharp eyes fell on a hill peeking up through the thick woods. Was that a roof? She picked out the outline of a fence around a small balcony peeking out from what appeared to be an attic floor of a large house. A widow's walk? Out here in the woods? “Hey, there's a house that way. I mean...it's probably a long walk, but if we start now, we might be able to get there by dark.” She suggested, gently placing a hand on Wyll's shoulder and pointing towards the hill. “Right, let's check out the creepy house on the hill all alone in the middle of the woods. Surely nothing bad could happen to us in this perfectly innocuous scenario.” Wyll gave a small chuckle. But he knew she was right, it was the only sign of civilization they had any chance of reaching before night fell and the temperature dropped and waiting here was practically a death sentence. Jaina fished a flashlight and two water bottles from the back seat and handed one bottle to Wyll. He nodded gratefully to her and the two headed off. ----

“I see you've got hospitality handled, little brother.” The imposing white scaled dragonborn smirked, arms folded across his chest as he watched Sentry lead Enver into the house. Sentry turned and smiled up at him playfully. “I mean, you can certainly join in, big brother.” He winked, pausing a moment. “I'm sure he'd like it.” “Ah! Good to see you again, Gary.” Enver gave the dragonborn a charming, roguish smile. “You know, I find I'm seeing you less and less at my office lately. It's terribly depressing.” Gary grinned, his long, sharp teeth glinting in the light. “I've been busy...and honestly, so has Sentry.” He gave his brother a pointed look. Sentry rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “You really need to relax more, brother. One of those folks out in the shed had a cassette tape with them about burn out and stress, it can kill you, y'know.” Gary exhaled deeply and rubbed his temples. “And why are you bothering with their junk? The protocol is very simple, little brother, you loot the bodies, set aside things that are useful to Enver or Ketheric, the rest goes to your geeky little friend at the pawn shop who doesn't ask questions.” “I was just curious if it was like music or something...I can't just get by with whatever's playing on the radio, it's got no bite!” Sentry pouted. “Besides, Sorcerous Salvage is full up on cassette tapes, Rolan will bitch about it if I bring him anymore.”

Gary sighed and shook his head. “You and Orin will be the death of me, brother...” “Well yes, I thought that was pretty much father's plan...or you'll be the death of us.” Sentry replied, once again grabbing Enver's arm. “Now, are you coming or not?” The Dragonborn's red eyes moved from his little brother to the charmingly sleazy human and then back towards the door. He shrugged. “I suppose there's time, Sarevok is still below the house praying, Jackal is still out on the road hunting, I haven't seen the others, so there's time.” He joined his brother, his arm slipping around Enver's waist, sharp nails digging into his hip. “But we'll use my room, yours is a disaster even by Bhaalist standards.” Sentry rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine! Your bed is bigger anyway.” ---- Wyll and Jaina had been walking for nearly an hour by now. The going was slow and the trail was not particularly well kept. A grim sense of foreboding filled the air as the two of them gripped one another's hands for comfort. The sun was threatening to set any moment and neither one was entirely sure this path would lead to the house they had seen in the distance.

A twig snapped and Jaina's eyes darted towards the sound, her heart hammering in her chest. Nothing. Just a lonely path dappled with autumn leaves. Wyll squeezed her hand gently. “We just need to keep moving, we'll get there, we'll find help.” She nodded. “I just hope sooner rather than later, these woods are giving me the creeps.” She shuddered. The rustle of leaves underfoot and a few more sickening cracks seemed to sound all around them. Subconsciously, the two began to move a little faster, sweat beginning to bead on Wyll's brow as Jaina felt her blood run cold. The two were practically running down the trail when a voice barked. “Hey! Watch where you're going!” And they just barely missed running into a stocky male drow in hunting gear. His face was scarred and pock marked, whether from illness or habit they weren't certain. Bright lilac eyes scowled in their direction and his dark grey hair was sweat soaked beneath his battered brown and green cap. An antique bow was strapped across his back alongside a quiver full of arrows. His jacket was the same shabby brown and green as his cap and his pants matched. Heavy boots crushed the leaves and sticks beneath his feet, well, at least they knew who'd made the noise. “What in the hells are you two doing out on this trail at this hour? People hunt here and you idiots are fixing to get shot.” He growled, eyeing them up and down, sizing them up. Wyll noticed that he was more wary of Jaina than he was of him, but he supposed it was in the nature of a drow.

“Our car flipped on the side of the road, sir. We're just looking for some help.” Wyll explained cautiously, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. “We don't want any trouble.” Jaina followed Wyll's lead, nodding her head along with what he was saying. “We saw a house in the distance, we thought maybe someone there had a truck...or we could find a phone?”

The drow gave a little chuckle and smirked. “Shit, alright....that's my house up there, mine and my family's. We ain't got a phone, but I got a truck, I'll give you two a lift to town in the morning.” He offered with a nod of his head. It was still getting darker out by the minute, the sunlight barely permeating the foliage overhead anymore and Jaina shivered, leaning in closer to Wyll, who looked to the man in confusion. “Damn you city folk are thick, aren't you? The invitation to stay the night's included.” The hunter adjusted his quiver and turned back the way he'd came, giving a sharp nod for them to follow. “Now come on, I'll lead you there.” He grinned wickedly, turned away from them so neither caught sight. “You don't wanna be out here when night falls.”

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Baldur's Gate #2

Demographics of the Western Heartlands

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

The City | Demographics | Law & Legal System | Administration & Government | ??? - WIP

A sort of overview of how people fit into the region. When I say "Baldur's Gate is a human city" I am not overexaggerating.

So: detailing the five main human groups of the region: the elves would rather stay in Evereska, thanks; the half-elves would rather not stay in Evereska: the halflings are cheerfully exploiting the local adventurers; the gnomes mind their own business; the dwarves have a local history that's just the world hitting them with sticks; and for some reason the Hells have it out for the Western Heartlands, and tieflings are resented for being a reminder. (And the occasional half-orc and dragonborn is there too, I guess.)

-

While the exact percentages may have shifted up or down somewhat over the course of events at the end of the Era of Upheaval and so on, they're still a pretty solid idea of what to expect from the Western Heartlands, and thus Baldur's Gate as the largest population centre (it's also where the most diversity is, being the only major port city for miles).

The breakdown is:

78% Human 7% Elven 4% Half-elven 3% Halfling 2% Gnome 1% Dwarf 1% "Other" [Tiefling, Half-orc, Dragonborn]

-

So 78% of the entire population of the Western Heartlands is human; consisting mostly of five ethnic groups. These groups being defined by their shared inherited cultural norms and genetics across Faerûn. Chondathan culture heavily shapes Baldur's Gate.

80% of these humans are Tethyrian [melting pot of cultures and genetics, predominantly Calishite and Chondathan by ancestry. By average: brown skin; black hair; blue eyes (northern) or brown eyes (southern). Their primary ancestors were the native people of the lands that became Tethyr and Calmishan. The further north you go the more Netherese and Illuskan genes enter the pool, and lighter skin and blue eyes becomes more common. In the Western Heartlands - they mostly follow Chondathan cultural norms. They have a history of being colonised and enslaved (largely by Calimshan), value freedom and community above all else; slavery is the pinnacle of evil. They have a strong bardic tradition due to relying on oral lore and song to keep their histories and what remains of their distinct culture alive (the majority of their cultural norms will be determined by the dominant culture they've mixed with). The average Tethyrian is raised to mistrust authorities with more jurisdiction than a city state (kingdoms and empires = bad). -

10% are Calishite [dark brown skin; black hair; dark brown eyes. Tend to be short. Due to genie ancestry, most genasi are Calishite]. The percentage is probably higher in the 15th century, due to a wave of refugees. The ancestors of the Calishites were slaves of genies who came to Toril, set up their empires, annoyed the local elves and got wiped off the map and left the humans to inherit their master's empire. Calimshan is one of the oldest human empires still standing, and they're very proud of this fact. They value reputation above all else (personal and family, both highly interconnected) which is basically a form of social currency. Very strict social divides: Class matters, traditionally they're patriarchal and gender roles are strict, marriage is important and the father determines social class (only women may marry "above their station"). In recent history, a return of the ruling djinn and efreeti led to a lot of war and destruction in Calimshan, sending a wave of refugees into the world. Most of those refugees live seperate from the main city in "Little Calimshan" in the Outer City. Said war has recently ended, due to the actions of a Chosen of Ilmater, and many Calishites in Baldur's Gate are considering returning home (especially because there is considerable friction between the refugees and the locals). Sorcery is a common occurance, and Calishites have a strong arcane and divine tradition. -

5% are Chondathan ["tawny" brown skin; light brown to black hair; brown or green eyes. Tend to be tall]. Their ancestors started off as warriors, whose many wars led to them destroying an elven city and a retaliatory tidal wave that eventually led them to discover that trade worked better for them (this did not stop them pissing off elves everywhere they went), they did such a good job that they dominated Central Faerûn through mercentile skill, and Chondathan culture (i.e. language, the Thorass alphabet and such) is a major influence pretty much all over Faerûn. Typically Chondathans have adapted quickly and peaceful to the norms and laws of other peoples, and a Baldurian, Cormyrian and a Sembian will not be perfectly interchangable. Still they will often have shared values: Violence is tacky and counterproductive. a reputation for honesty is paramount and breaking your word is taboo. Tend to be cat people, with a strong appreciation for tressyms. They value hard work, industry and admire wealth (which is power and evidence of a good work ethic). Social standing is determined by money and influence. Class divides don't tend to be rigid, and it's generally believed that hard work should open doors. You start work at 12 (apprenticeships) and if you're able bodied you will be shamed for "not pulling your weight". The elderly tend to hang around after retirement and tutor the next generation. They have little in the way of magical traditions, or interest in it. -

3% are Illuskan [pale skin; blonde, red or black hair; blue or grey eyes. Tend to be very tall]. Rarely found outside of the North (including the Sword Coast North, across the border), most Illuskan cultures are tribes and settlements on the frontiers. They value courage, battle prowess and survival and haven't been as successful in the larger world because they tend to prefer war and raids to trade. Larger civilisation hinders growth and encourages weakness and dependency, and is largely shunned. The rest of the world considers them "no better than orcs" and the Illuskans think the rest of the world are a bunch of cowards unworthy of respect. Not being able to be the warrior hero of some kind of epic tale (or being bold enough to aspire to be) is not necessarily a thing to be ashamed of that you will be mistreated for, but you won't be given any respect past basic courtesy either. Magic is not infrequent amongst Illuskans, due to Netherese ancestry, but it is mistrusted due to the history of the Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan, who are evil bastards. Religion is eh. Illuskans generally only have uses for gods who serve a practical purpose (so appeasing the gods of fury (such as Auril and Umberlee) and Tempus, god of war). -

1% consists of the Gur [brown skin; thick, straight black hair; dark brown eyes. Tend to be hirsute and short, but "stocky"] The ancestors of the Gur were Rashemi, a people they still strongly resemble, physically. The modern people feel no kinship with their distant kin though. They're mostly nomads, but some Gur can be found permanently settled in the slums of cities like Baldur's Gate and Elturel, where they're treated as subhuman. Their patron deity is Selûne: protector of travellers and outcasts, and a patron of diviners, which the Gur practice for protection and aid in navigation (as such they also worship Savras, god of truth and fate, patron god of divination). Amongst their own the Gur speak a unique dialect of Rashemi that no outsiders are privy to. There's not a lot on the Gur, but if they share any cultural norms with the Rashemi, it might be something like this: The Rashemi value personal skill/strength (in whatever form that takes) and achievements, and scorn the concept of inherited (unearned) titles and wealth. They also value the wellbeing of the land itself, to which they show respect. While they don't shun work, they don't live for it either; the youth are often found carousing loudly with their friends, and while the adults are expected to contribute to society, they also enjoy a good time. Children are subject to tests as they mature, and elders are afforded great respect for their experience and the challenges they have overcome in reaching their age. Interestingly, Rashemi expats also have a reputation for being "nuisances" outside of Rashemen: many struggle with culture shock, and the stereotype is that they will get drunk and wander around picking fights everywhere (the Rashemar norm of challenging others to help them and you improve comes across as aggression to outsiders). -

The remaining 1% is a mixture of the many, many, many different humans on Toril. This canonically includes one of Faerûn's only Maztican communities, consisting of the Nexala people living in Baldur's Gate (I think they drew inspiration from the Mexica?) and there appears to include a Kozakuran (Japanese fantasy counterpart) minority. TSR's decision to start creating fantasy world counterparts to real world cultures for "exotic" expansions is... hmm, contentious, and I don't know enough about the real world counterparts to know if I'm handling it well, so I'm not going further into that.

------

7% of the population of the Western Heartlands is elves, making up the largest non-human population of the region.

It's mostly moon elves [fair skin, often seen in literal white hues likened to alabaster and marble, with blue undertones; white, silver (like the metal, not grey) or black hair; eyes always flecked with gold] and then some wood elves [copper brown skin, tinged with green; blonde, red, brown or black hair; brown or green eyes. Metallic sheen to hair and skin.] Some sun elves returned to Faerûn in the mid-1300s [gold, bronze or amber skin; blonde, red or black hair; golden brown, green or black eyes. Metallic sheen to hair and skin.] (both moon elves and sun elves are categorised as "high elves", in BG3 mechanical parlance). Moon elves are individualistic and have a reputation for flightiness, thrill-seeking and hedonism. Sun elves are conservative, more observant of social hierarchies, have a strong cultural focus on magic (divine and arcane both) and extremely wary of humans due to historical conflict and human expansion into (now lost) elven lands. Wood elves are known for their open mindedness towards non-elves and many hope for elves to live fully amongst the non-elves one day, but due to their nature-oriented spirituality and way of life they rarely venture into human civilisation and are usually highly uncomfortable there. When compared to the percentages of other demihumans in the area, the elven population seems very high, though that 7% accounts for Evereska, the last major bastion of elven civilisation on Faerûn. Although apparently the elves are trying to rebuild Myth Drannor yet again, and good luck with making that stick. While elves do make up the largest non-human minority group in Baldur's Gate, the vast majority of that 7% traditionally remains in Evereska and refuses to leave their homeland's borders, and of those that leave it's almost entirely moon elves, who are the most likely to assimilate into human culture. A minority of wood elves might be able to get comfortable in cities. Your average sun elf, to whom preservation of elven culture is a sacred duty given by Corellon him/herself, would be horrified by the concept of assimilating into the N'Quess, and any that aren't are going to be under immense social pressure from their house/clan to come home and conform (especially because there's a chance that their family may view humans as dangerous). That said, the flightiness of youth can generally be forgiven (they'll grow out of it). Most encountered are young adventurers under 100 years old and semi-nomadic family groups of moon elves who wander between human settlements as their whims (and/or the mercantile work of their clan/house) takes them. Older elves are unlikely to be found in Baldur's Gate in high numbers, as the rapid, demanding pace of the metropolis clashes badly with the "take your time" philosophies and lifespan of elves. A few families of sun elves also established themselves in the minor human cities of Iriaebor and Berdusk, further South East, after returning from the Retreat.

- 4% of the population is half-elven, almost entirely of moon elven descent, and, on the human side, likely to be of Tethyrian ancestry.

It's likely most are found in human cities, even if they weren't already born there. The noble houses of Evereska have traditionally been extremely xenophobic (even the elven commoner clans were considered beneath them), and the only non-elves permitted entry for most of Evereska's existence have been Harpers: the opportunities for half-elves to be born within the realm have been fewer that otherwise. Human civilisations also saw an influx of half-elven immigration during the late 14th century - albeit most moved North - when the Spellplague caused Evereska and the Feywild to merge slightly, and an increase in xenophobic attitudes made many feel unwelcome.

- 3% is halfling, almost entirely lightfoot [very, very wide genetic pool. The hin have moved around enough that no features or colouration has become a norm for an entire geographic population.]

Lightfoot halflings - or hin, amongst themselves - are pretty much all over Faerûn, having made themselves comfortable and unobtrusive living alongside humans. They mostly assimilate into human cultures, though there is still a focus on clan and family. There is a small village in the region called Gullykin, which mostly keeps to itself and profits from its brewery (which also happens to be the temple of Yondalla). They also cheerfully make a side profit off of the frequent adventuring parties who use the village as a rest stop while exploring the nearby ruins (Durlag's Tower and the Firewine Ruins). The locals have no interest in the ruins themselves, considering Firewine particularly cursed, and pride themselves in being as peacefully boring as they possibly can.

- 2% consists of gnomes, almost entirely rock gnomes [brown skin; white hair; no information given on eye colour, although "glittering black" has been used as a descriptor.]

Gnomes prefer to stay well hidden, in secret villages scattered around the world and unseen by outsiders, but a minority are drawn to Baldur's Gate. Rock gnomes split their time and focus between their career (usually craft of some sort, and rock gnome working environments are known for their very relaxed, friendly atmospheres) and partying.

- 1% consists of dwarves, shield dwarves [pale to light brown skin; dark hair; blue eyes] and gold dwarves [light to dark brown skin with a reddish hue; black, grey or brown hair; brown or hazel eyes]. Exact numbers aren't given, but as, historically, the shield dwarves almost went extinct due to wars where the gold dwarven numbers reached such levels of overpopulation in the Great Rift during the Thunder Blessing of 1306 DR that many were forced to migrate in droves, I would assume that it's either, like, a 50/50 split, or the gold dwarven population is the higher one.

Gold dwarves put their success and survival down to adherence to dwarven ways of life and are staunch traditionalists, cleaving to family, clan and faith: Dwarven history being characterised by the loss of homeland after homeland, they are very keen to ensure that their way of life survives. They have a bad history with the various inhabitants of the Underdark (especially drow). Shield dwarves have been in the area the longest. They have lost many of their homelands in the North to orc invasions and the expansion of humanity in their subsequent weakened state. Those found in the Western Heartlands belong to a subdivision called the Wanderers; dwarves who after the loss of their ancestral homes took to a more nomadic life, making a living as mercenaries and crafters in the settlements of other races. Many may have non-dwarven ancestry, as shield dwarves started intermarrying to bolster their numbers due to wars and an infertility crisis rendering their population dangerously low - non-dwarven ancestry is mostly humans and gnomes, though some hin and elven blood can be found. The same traditions their gold dwarven kin hold to exist in shield dwarven culture, but due to the pressures of survival many traditions are looser or have fallen by the wayside. The most successful dwarves are presumably the Shattershield clan, who settled in Baldur's Gate at the time of the city's origin and became the Gate's sole non-human Patriar family. There have been attempts to create new homelands in the Western Heartlands, and all of them met with disaster. The town of Kanaglym, established in 722 DR eventually discovered that they'd accidentally found a portal to the Fugue Plane in the town well. The half-dwarven adventurer Daeros Dragonspear established Dragonspear Castle aboveground, over the town's location in 1255 DR, creating a safe haven for the dwarven people that was also guarded by Daeros' copper dragon companion Halatathlaer, who had a lair nearby. Then a mage, seeking the dwarves' wealth, decided to embark on a complicated plot, of which the most relevant step was opening a portal to Avernus and tricking Daeros to walk into it, and also destroying the castle with an invasion of dragons. A dwarf by the name of Durlag Trollkiller also established a home for his clan (Durlag's Tower) at some unknown date, and that was later annihilated by an infiltration of doppelgangers and mind flayers. The Orothiar clan settled in the Cloakwood, however they were forced to abandon their clanhold when a mine wall was accidentally breached: the river flooded their home, and wiped out most of their people, bar a few survivors.

- 1% covers everybody else. Hobgoblins, gnolls, goblins, kobolds and such will make up the majority of this category; the recently established Yuan-ti kingdom of Najara has also joined this percentage; with a minority of half-orcs (orcs are not really found in the Western Heartlands, the nearest are mountain orcs in the North), and then a smaller handful of planetouched (tieflings, genasi, aasimar (mostly tieflings and genasi)) and dragonborn left over.

While generally not popular anywhere, tieflings are particularly mistrusted in the Western Heartlands. They're associated with the Dragonspear Wars - the first of which took place in 1356 DR - where Waterdeep and Baldur's Gate went to war with the invading forces of Avernus (coming from portals set up in the eponymous Dragonspear Castle). There was another invasion in 1363 DR. Then that time Mephistopheles invaded Waterdeep in 1372 with the intention of conquering Toril and turning it into the tenth layer of hell probably didn't help their reputation either. Nor the fey'ri invasion of Evereska in 1374 DR. Nor did the Elturel incident... It's not unlikely that there are a fair few people with dormant infernal blood in their veins, but the tiefling population isn't likely to see much growth, as the birth of a tiefling child to human parents is not infrequently met with panic and infanticide.

There's nothing I can really find on half-orcs, but I would imagine most are of mountain orc and Illuskan heritage, and they or their ancestor/s migrated from the North.

I'd hazard a guess that the entire dragonborn population of Baldur's Gate - possibly the entire region - can be seen in-game. They have no history in the area that I know of.

[opinated-user]

transcript of the clip LO posted: "some make the argument that star was meant to be this way because it's inspired by anime, but that's a statement that need qualifying. which anime? well, sailor moon obviously. but that sentiment is found on any of the other shows. anime is a pretty wide medium with many irons and many fires, but the phrase anime inspired always narrowed it in small niche and culturally embarassing side of it that even Japan doesn't like to be reminded of it" (source_not_found) "when someone says anime inspired they never say that they were inspired by hello kitty or hamtaro or that silly one where everyone is sharply dressed and ridiculously buffer" (an image of Jojo Adventures) "no, it's always this shit that no one in their right mind would be caught with."

the last part of the clip shows this:

let me debunk this clip piece by piece. 1. you literally just said that SVTFOE is inspired by Sailor Moon, the anime that really popularized and cemented the magical girl genre for the public. although it wasn't the first one, it's the one everyone immediately associate whenever "magical girl" it's mentioned. to say that SVTOFE is inspired by Sailor Moon it's already saying that it has magical girl elements and many conventions of that genre baked into it. that's what it means. even the less knowlegeable people in anime will know what Sailor Moon is and if you tell them "this is inspired by Sailor Moon", they would know what it means. the fact that you insist that needs more "qualifying" and go on this completely incoherent rant talks more about your own ignorance than anything. "this show about a magical princess that comes from another dimension to earth in order to fight bad guys was inspired by this other show about another princess from another world that comes to earth to fight bad guys" is not a confusing statement at all, so i'm confused as to what you thought was necessary to "qualify" here? LO, when people say that your video are becoming worse because you lack structure and keep pulling words that don't end up connecting to any central idea, this clip is an example of what people mean. this whole rant was entirely unnecesary and it didn't help your point come across. any editor would have told you to either remove it entirely or worded it a lot different. by your response i can see that you think you were doing something there. i promise that you didn't.

2. LO, Japan is not embarassed by anime. i actually don't know from where you took that one. otakus were seen as embarassing because they were our equivalent of the incel stereotype that doesn't interact with people and lives indoors all day, but even that's changing. anime by itself was always part of the cultural expression of the country. they treat Evangelion like here in the west we treat Mickey Mouse, they plaster the images of those characters everywhere in the most populated areas. similar to how you have the "baby sister" you decided to romance in baldur's gate all over your tumblr, while trying to insist you don't have incestuous attraction to your younger sibling. but at least they don't do it to flaunt their incestuous attraction. you keep projecting this image of Japan being embarassed and annoyed by the existence of anime without any evidence or even an attempt to explain how that makes any sense. the anime industry is huge, it's one of the cultural products that Japan more profits with because they can export it to the rest of the world and the rest of the world wants more of it. in what planet does it make sense that they would be "embarassed" by something like that? 3. do you want to know why nobody ever says that something was inspired by hello kitty or hamtaro, LO? that's because Hello Kitty doesn't have an actual story. it's an cutesy aesthetic around a bunch of cute characters that a company made in order to sell cute merchandize. there was to my knowledge only one show made with Hello Kitty, but i believe none of that had anything to do with the official canon of the character. if you think about it, Hello Kitty is kinda like Barbie. it's a recognizable icon completely by itself. there can be stories made with it, but Hello Kitty will never go through a character development moment and will never change. she will always be just a cute kitty, just like Barbie can be whatever is the most convenient for Mattell in any given moment. as to Hamtaron, it was just a slice of life anime about cute animals. it was cute, indeed. but it didn't do anything new that thousands of other people weren't doing after or before with their own spins on it. here, a list of anime/manga that were exactly the same as Hamtaro without being directly inspired by it because nobody really invented the "slice of life story through the perspective of a pet" genre. it took me one google search to find, there's more if you want to see. if you're so desperate for more content "like Hamtaro" it was always that easy to find. ... more so, again, what does this have to do with SVTFOE or literally any other show that isn't about cute animals being cute? about Jojo's Bizarre Adventure and nobody ever was inspired by it in the west... you have to be joking with that one.

here are videogames inspired by JJBA: https://www.thegamer.com/best-jojos-bizarre-adventure-video-game-references/#bayonetta

other manga and anime it inspired: https://www.cbr.com/jojo-bizarre-adventure-anime-manga-inspirations/

shows in the west that it inspired/have direct references to JJBA: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHhNUVtozKY one of the shows mentioned is Monkey Kid, which her wife watches. do you know why you don't hear that something wasn't inspired by this, LO? because nothing of the shows you watch had anything that could be inspired by JJBA or you wouldn't even understand the reference in the first place. one of the other shows that also had references was Amphibia... which LO refused to see because *checks notes* it had a plot.

4. the two things i circled in red are not even anime. they're games. the one with two girls hugging and looking up with fear is Rape Lay, a infamous game about raping underaged girls and their mother until you get them pregnant and they either kill you or you force them to have babies. the other one is Doki Doki Majo Shipan, a game whose main objective is that you have to undress and touch the bodies of different characters in order to find a "witch mark". many of those characters are underaged, but a few are adults and you play as a highscholer so it's still not better.

i just want to ask the following. why did you bring two games, two infamous games about touching or raping underaged bodies for that matter, when talking about SVTFOE at all? just why? what was the thought process here? how does this make your point any more clearer? how it does examplify better that "anime inspired" is bad when you don't even show anime and is instead games? anyone should seriously question why you brought this games up at all when talking about a show that was made by Disney. a show about a underaged magical princess of another world. why did your mind ever went to those games when talking about this? you just exposed, with no warning mind you, a bunch of your audience to these games to discover by themselves. you did that. and that was bad and you should feel bad about it.

[morgana-ren]

Ok, but the idea of a dark triunvirate between Ascended Astarion, Drurge and Tav sounds so interesting. I can imagine Astarion being the face, the politician who rules Baldurs Gate with Drurge being his dragon and making sure everyone fears them, while Tav plays the part of the kind, gentle consort who wants to help people, but is actually the most ruthless spymistress in the city. I just want them to be evil together 🤩🤩🤩

God, you are so right.

It's a brilliant political scheme. The face, the fist, and the heart.

Tav's part is especially important. She is basically running PR for her awful husband and trying to humanize him-- when he's not fuckin' human. She is the 'greater good' that gives him a softer side, sort of like Margery tried to do for Jeoffry (however you spell that cunts name.)

However, she is ruthless just as much as her chosen mate. It's a very different sort of power, and in a way, exponentially more vicious. Astarion is upfront in his brutality. He very much is a closed fist that will choke the life from you, where Tav will earn your trust and drain it slowly. Strange how no renegade plans to overthrow Astarion seem to come to fruition or any forms of success at all, isn't it?

She is the city's beloved. The sole kindness in a preternaturally beautiful power couple. Despite her husband being a wretched tyrant, she somehow runs interference on that and makes him seem... decent to the more gullible people of the land.

Durge is the special force, and very vital. Bloodthirsty and unwavering. They do their job and do it well. Whenever a threat arises, it is turned into a mushy pulp with frightening efficiency. The fear they inspire keeps the population docile and meek, which is very important under the rule of a tyrant. You cannot inspire hope, and all efforts must be met with swift and unchanging brutality. A consequence for an action with no variables. Making an example of defiance so that the seeds are infirm before they sow or, Gods forbid, bloom.

Astarion, obviously, is the king. His word is law and what he says is final unless he chooses otherwise. However, the other two are absolutely pivotal to his reign. His beautiful wife that placates half of the population, and his flaming fist that destroys the other that might dare to rebel.

He is very clearly powerful in his own right, but I'd say this power structure works particularly well for him.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

May I request a BG3 matchup?

30; afab agender; rampantly bisexual. Medical lab tech (not the cool kind), about to start grad school for forensic biology. I collect postcards and preserved specimens, and raise tarantulas + other bugs. Enjoy making nature journals, birdwatching, puzzles, music, theatre, museums, analyzing horror media, building models, working with clay, writing, reading, and board games (though I get a bit too competitive). Great in the kitchen. Autistic/ADHD. Get sensory overloaded easily. Love meeting people but mostly wish I could exist invisibly and not speak. Chronic pain limits physical activities. Most content during stormy days with candles and coffee, baking or doing a jigsaw puzzle with the windows open and music playing. Think I'm unattractive and obnoxious. OCD + bipolar dictate a lot of my brain. Tendency to word vomit and have difficulty articulating off of paper. Complain a lot and can be passive aggressive. But also like to see people happy and taken care of, and want to leave things better than I find them when possible.

A/N: Alright Tarantula Anon, since you mentioned you’re bisexual, but didn’t state a gender preference, I’ve picked out the best matches- one male and one female for you.

Your best Baldur’s Gate 3 Matches would be Astarion (Male) and Minthara (Female)!

➶ Astarion is also a character I would characterize as “rampantly bisexual” (or pansexual to be more specific in his case lol). Gender presentation isn’t something he factors into attractiveness. If he likes you, he likes you. If he thinks you’re hot, he thinks you’re hot, etc. You get the idea.

Being an immortal vampire, Astarion knows a thing or two about biology. Mainly about how to remain undetected among the human population. In the game, he explains how he never smells like a typical vampire or vampire’s den because he makes a point to scent himself with a mix of fragrances. And while he may not be a medical professional, he’s certainly had his fair share of anatomy lessons, be it distant viewings at the food of Cazador, from the many creatures he’s been forced to seduce. It’s not an exact equivalent, but I do believe he would be fascinated by the kind of work you do regarding live and preserved specimens.

And while I don’t think he’s a bug person (mainly because they were his one source of nutrition for so many years), I think he could be taught to appreciate them over time. Perhaps you could show him how all creatures, even small ones, are incredibly unique and have their own role within our vast universe. It’s humbling to think we are all so incredibly tiny and yet vastly important to the people around us.

There’s so much he’s missed out on experiencing, I think he’d quite like doing any of those activities with you: birdwatching, solving puzzles, listening to music, going to the theater or the museum, tinkering, making ceramics, writing, or reading, or playing board games… Anything! Everything! He especially enjoys the competitive nature of your games. He finds he quite likes the feeling of winning, and he plans on doing it more often. Don’t worry though, he’ll play fair. Well, fair for him, anyway.

He cannot eat so he doesn’t get to fully appreciate your kitchen prowess. But he does enjoy helping you cook. It’s strangely comforting for him to do something so domestic. It’s in moments like those, that he can see the rest of your lives together playing out.

Similarly to you, Astarion loves meeting new people. Or at least he thinks he does. So much of his extroversion was a facade, he’s not certain what part of his people skills are him and which parts were survival. So he needs time in between, away from crowds and strangers to calm down and recharge. He’s grateful that you often tug him away, reminding him to excuse the two of you before either one of you gets too overwhelmed.

He may not be a magic user, but he does what he can to support you in managing your chronic pain. He’ll get Halsin or Shadowheart or even Gale to lessen some of your symptoms. He doesn’t try to cure your condition, nor does he expect you to cure his. However, if finding a more permanent solution to your pain is something you’d want, he’s more than ready to take that journey with you.

He doesn’t think for a second that you’re obnoxious. And trust him on that. He’s met some of the most obnoxious, overwhelmingly annoying magistrates and lords in his first life. He assures you constantly: that you are nothing like them. You’re smart and kind and beautiful. Even if you can’t see it, he sees it for you. Astarion knows what it’s like to live with a body (and by extension a brain) that tells you you’re never good enough. There are still moments when he can’t see himself in a mirror for example, when he thinks of himself as a monster. He’s so grateful you’re there to comfort him and tell him otherwise.

His favorite thing in the world is to cuddle with you next to a large bay window, watching nighttime thunderstorms roll in, a book in his lap and you beside him.

☾ Minthara is often characterized as closed-off and cold. Which you could argue is true. Or you could see it as her being logical, and protective of herself and her heart. She is a drow, and by nature, well accustomed to the more gruesome side of human nature. She feels at home surrounded by macabre, whereas others may be disturbed. I think she’d find your work fascinating. And spiders are something she knows a lot about. Drows and spiders go hand in hand. She sees tarantulas as the perfect pet, they’re small enough to be contained but large enough to have personalities and be something incredible to watch.

She especially enjoys reading horror stories with you or visiting theaters or museums with horror exhibits. Perhaps one about ancient methods of torture- now that would tickle her fancy. And she appreciates your wit and candor when it comes to playing games or solving puzzles with you. So few people treasure such traits in a companion, but not her. She knows how important it is to have a discerning significant other, especially if you are going to be spending any time in the Underdark with her, where being perceptive is a must for survival. She loves your cooking. As a drow noble, she was familiar with the concepts of fancy feasts and indulgent desserts. However, due to her position, she could never truly enjoy them, for fear of being poisoned by enemies. With you doing the meal-making, she doesn't have to worry about that anymore.

Unlike you, however, Minthara is not that fond of meeting other people. She much prefers the two of you keep to yourselves unless otherwise necessary. People are tiring, and so often unimportant. She sees no need to waste her time and social graces on them. You’re the one she loves. If she’s going to do something with anyone or make an effort, it’s going to be for you and you alone.

She used to think admitting pain was weak, now however, she knows it takes an inner as well as outer strength. She will go to whatever length to ensure your comfort. Simply say the word and she will get it for you. In seeing your survival, Minthara has developed a great admiration for you as a person, seeing how resilient you are. That being said, she will not tolerate you speaking poorly of yourself. You are wonderful. You are strong in mind and spirit. You are intelligent and wise. You are gorgeous. You mean everything to her. She will not hear you put yourself down. She would not choose an unworthy mate, so do not think for a second that you are not deserving of her love and affection.

But by all means, do complain. The world can be so frivolous and pedestrian. She enjoys having someone who not only accepts hearing her own complaints but joins in with their own as well. You can be passive-aggressive in your grievances because she is extremely direct. If something bothers you, she’ll simply ask you if you wish her to kill it. And no she doesn’t care if that’s morally wrong, because for you, she would move heaven and earth if it made you happy.

She is fiercely loyal and now that she is your loving partner, you cannot shake her. She is utterly and wholly devoted to you.

[coreene]

The Moonshaes

Cloaked in mists, the rocky cliffs of the Moonshae Isles rise high above the surf of the Sea of Swords, their tops clothed in ancient forests. The Moonshaes lie due west from Mintarn- and Baldur's Gate, and Candlekeep, and even Amn, for that matter: this great stretch of islands is nearly half as long as the Sword Coast, enclosing the Sea of Moonshae.

On the southern isles live the Ffolk, humans ruled by their High King, Derid Kendrick, from the fortress of Caer Callidyr on Alaron. The Ffolk worship a goddess they call the Earthmother; her druids gather in sacred groves on the islands. Some of these groves hold moonwells, magical pools that the druids say the goddess uses as her windows onto the world.

The northern isles are the territory of the Northlanders, who spread south from Ruathym to settle here, and have fought occasional wars with the Ffolk in the centuries that the two groups have uneasily shared the islands.

Alaron

The largest and most populous isle of the Moonshaes is Alaron. The Ffolk stronghold of Caer Callidyr overlooks a bay south of the Fairheight Mountains, at the northern edge of Dornall Forest. The forest is a perilous place, filled with goblins, worgs, and their ilk. The deeper one goes, the more otherworldly the woods become, with fey creatures leading travellers astray - or to their doom. Even the High King's rangers walk the forest with care.

Rumor has it the Rookoath dwarves of the Fairheight range-bolstered by Clan Rustfire of the isle of Gwynneth, and adventurers out of Callidyr-have won victories against the local ores and their shadow dragon master. High King Derid hopes to forge an alliance with the dwarves, but thus far they have spurned the aid of the crown.

Meanwhile, Kythyss, a port town on the Great South Head of Alaron, has been hiring mercenaries to guard caravans running north to Callidyr. Caravan masters there are always looking for help, if you're willing to brave the road for a while.

Gwynneth

Over my lifetime, the isle of Gwynneth has become ever more fey and mysterious, home to the elven realm of Sarifal, under the rule of High Lady Ordalf.

Sarifal shares the island with the reclusive mountain kingdom of Synnoria, the home of the Llewyr elves, plus a few small shield dwarf settlements, and the ruins of Caer Corwell, the former Ffolk settlement on Gwynneth. High King Derid wants to reclaim the old citadel and rebuild it as an embassy, but has yet to secure Lady Ordalf's consent to do so.

Gwynneth is also home to Myrloch Vale, a lush valley nestled in the mountains with the shimmering waters of the Myrloch to the south. Druid circles are active in the Vale, allied with the elves and the fey creatures of this area.

In the north of the island, High Lady Ordalf's son, Prince Araithe, leads the struggle against the darker fey of the forest of Winterglen. The prince is a pragmatist willing to accept aid in fending off his people's foes, and so has been known to allow adventuring companies to cross the Strait of Alaron and land on Gwynneth, if they pledge to aid the cause.

Korinn Archipelago

The Korinn Archipelago is dozens of rocky, rainy, and windswept islands populated mostly by Northlanders, who herd sheep, fish the nearby waters, and occasionally go raiding or pirating. Dozens of separate settlements are their own mini-kingdoms with little that unifies them besides a shared Northlander culture.

There's no safe harbour for outsiders; you just have no idea what you are dealing with. For other Northlanders, the settlement of Westhaven on Pandira serves as a neutral ground where Northlanders of all stripes who ply the waters of the Sea of Swords might come to port and wait out a storm or resupply.

Moray

To the west of Gwynneth, Moray is a land at war with itself. The embattled Ffolk of Caer Moray struggle to keep the port town open so that Dynnegall, farther inland, can receive vital goods and supplies.

These supplies sometimes include reinforcements to deal with the threats of the island, which are many and varied: the Black Blood tribe of Malar-worshiping werefolk, the giants of the Trollclaw Range in the north, and the ogres and ores of the Orcskill Mountains in the south.

The Ffolk of Moray are loyal to the High King. They hope for a return to a unified Moonshaes under the Kendrick banner and are determined to hold on long enough to see it.

Norland

North of Moray lies Norland, the stronghold of the Northlanders of the Isles. Much has happened among the Noris of late, weakening their grip on the Moonshaes, but I fear High King Kendrick lacks power to capitalize on it.

In recent years, a Northlander woman calling herself the Storm Maiden arose as a battle leader among them, which was unusual because Northlanders don't allow women to raid or fish. Said to blessed by both Valkur and Umberlee at her birth, the Storm Maiden gathered great numbers of Noris to her banner, and it seemed she might contest the king for control of Norland. However, a decade ago, she seemed to be consumed by the power of Umberlee, and she drove her followers on a mad quest to control the Sea of Swords. When at last she was defeated at sea, she and her ship vanished into the waves. She is known to be unable to drown, and many people fear her return.

Rault the Wise, king of the Noris, lost both his elderly son Olfgaut and grandson in battles against the Storm Maiden, leaving succession in question. He has a granddaughter of great spirit and wisdom, but in the male-dominated Northlander society- and so soon after the disastrous rise to power of the Storm Maiden - it is unthinkable that rule should fall to her.

Oman's Isle

The last time I set foot on Oman's Isle was just after the Moonshaes had unified, and it was a peaceful, lovely place. It had sheep, farms, and fishing boats, and plenty of folk willing to trade the gold from their mines for goods from the mainland or other islands. Now, Oman's Isle is a blasted place is controlled by giants, especially fomorians, that hurl huge stones at any ship that comes too near the coast. If you do make it to shore, bring friends, and plenty of weapons-it's a dangerous place, but might be worth the risk. I can scarcely imagine the reward Jar! Rault or High King Derid would offer to the adventurers who reclaimed the ruins of Iron Keep, once home to the isle's rulers.

Snowdown

The little isle of Snowdown, south of Alaron, is a possession of Arnn, where Lady Erliza rules from Caer Westphal. She is the second of her name, noted for her striking resemblance to her great-grandmother, the first Amnian ruler of the isle.

Since taking possession of the place, Snowdown's occupiers have cut down its woods, stripped its mines, and choked its waterways with the refuse of the overworked Ffolk under their rule. Lady Erliza and her soldiers have ruthlessly put down several rebellions, and the Ffolk here refer to her as "Bloody Erliza." Some Amnians believe the isle is becoming more trouble to hold on to than its diminishing exports are worth, and further uprisings are almost certainly brewing amongst the Ffolk, quietly supported by Alaron.

source: Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide pg. 67-69, top map

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate fanfiction- Part 2

Chapter 9 (Still Gale’s POV)

“Gale… What was that?!” Karlach shouts with excitement, in complete awe as I finish releasing my fatal power that demolished so many of these cultists. I stare at my shaking hands with a surprised expression, trying to comprehend what exactly just happened. I had no control of this power, but it seems it was triggered when approaching the center of the temple. Something within this place – or someone – must have caused it to unleash ferociously, and I was unable to stop it. While I think this power is great in the correct hands, it actually scared me to a certain degree. Is it only caused by an evil presence? Whatever it was, it’s unrelated to the weave.

“I…don’t know. It must have come with being immortal.I was never told about this.” The assassins that did manage to live through that intense power come charging toward us with daggers, and two of them try to stun me, but my body manages to resist their spell. Wyll casts Hunger of Hadar, slowing the movement of the attackers and damaging them in the process while Halsin casts the Wall of Fire spell, which kills off the ones that were already suffering from previously inflicted damage. One final man stands in front of us, terrified as he examines the chambers around us. No other Bhaalists are standing; not in this room, anyway.

“You will not…get in the way,” one of the assassins grumbles, holding out his sharp dagger and pointing it at my face. “We will continue to populate until you can’t take it anymore. Your power will soon become exhausted. YOU WILL ALL FACE JUDGMENT FROM THE MURDER LORD. Even you, wizard. Your immortality will be stripped away and your head will make a nice trophy on the altar.” I shake my head in disbelief, laughing at his retort.

“Do you not know how immortality works? Are you so absorbed in the idea of killing that it completely blinded you from–”

“SILENCE.” Astarion approaches the assassin from behind, jamming his daggers into both sides of the man’s neck, stabbing him until he quivers on the floor from the loss of blood. His breath is inconsistent, gasping for life as he struggles to live. I stare at him, watching him suffer from the pain, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he dies. No movement. No heart beating. I shouldn’t feel a thrill like this, but I do feel content that the city will come to peace at last once these repugnant monsters fully perish from Faerȗn.

All of us observe our surroundings, only hearing the echo of our own breaths as we stand here.

“Was that the last of them?” Karlach bellows, catching her breath. While I feel like we’ve taken care of a good portion of these murderers, we still have quite aways before the city is safe again.

“No, we still have to find the source of these dagger-happy sociopaths,” I mutter, clenching my fists as I close my eyes. We made progress. Less people will die today. I see a stairway that leads into a separate room within the temple that I never noticed before. What if the source is in that room?

“What kind of source do you believe is responsible for these monstrosities?” Halsin asks, trembling from the haunting presence in this room. I can’t say I blame him. After a moment of silence, a disturbing and loud groan escapes from the room above the stairway. We all stare at each other with perplexion and follow the sound.

“Oh Gods, I am not quite sure I want to see what’s up there,” Karlach utters. “Come on, Karlach. Put on your big girl underwear.” We head up the stone stairs, and the moaning gets louder as we approach the sound, only more agonizing. As we reach the room, I notice it’s actually Orin’s bedroom. Paintings of herself are on two of the walls that are parallel from one another, and next to one of these paintings is a decomposing dead woman who is tied up against a wooden structure of some sort. On her stomach, the name Helena is carved… This must have been Orin’s mother. On the bed lies a suffering dragonborn, trembling from some sort of trauma as she breathes heavily and groaning from displeasurement.

“Please…make it stop…” Her voice is weak as she tries to move, but the pain causes her body to clench. What the hell is happening? Who is this poor tortured soul? I look down and notice a white male dragonborn dead on the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood. On his back, the words “Dark Urge” and “Bhaalspawn” are carved through his decaying flesh. Who was he?

“Kill me…please. I beg of you. I can’t do this anymore,” the female dragonborn pleads once more.

“Oh my Gods, what did they do to her?” Karlach whispers, staring at her in pure horror. I study the dragonborn, noticing various signs of trauma across her body. Bruises across her ribs, the inability to move her body, marks of fingerprints across her neck as if she were being choked, and bags under her eyes as if she hasn’t slept in days. Sounds of babies crying can be heard in the far distance, which makes me wonder: is she the source of the Bhaalspawn?

“I was used. Repeatedly. To create these…spawn of the murder lord.” Well, that answers my questions. Her voice is fading as she grips the sheets with her claws. “PLEASE!” I don’t know what the right choice would be here, especially since I hate taking lives of the innocent. If we heal her, she could have a way better life ahead of her…if we can even do that. It seems she can’t handle being alive and that she’s bound to Bhaal no matter what. As my mind is racing at a million miles per hour, Astarion approaches her and sighs, pulling out his bloody, silver dagger, staring at it in hesitation. It glistens within his reflection as he contemplates his next move.

“Let me do it,” he shudders, wiping off the blood from his knife into his armor. He takes a deep, heavy breath as he closes his eyes, then stabs her until she’s lifeless. Every second of witnessing that was painful to watch.

“Thank you,” she wails before closing her eyes forever. We all look at her with melancholy eyes, wishing she had a much better life than whatever this was. Who was she? Did she worship Bhaal, thinking he would give her anything she wanted? Whatever the circumstance, it seems she was given false promises and was used to create his spawn. I place a white sheet over her body, feeling pain and heartache within me as we bring her peace.

Our adventure back home begins now. I’m ready to get out of here and hopefully never come back. I need the comfort of my beautiful Emmy’s arms around me. I need to hold my little baby again and kiss her forehead. I need the warmth of Tara on my shoulder or in my lap as I read a book. Everything that brings me comfort – I long for it desperately.

We are silent for a few miles, trying to process the entirety of what we went through. While defeating the Bhaalists wasn’t exactly traumatizing to any degree, having to take the life of that dragonborn who so desperately wanted it, well… that affected us.

“I just…” Astarion hesitates, then sighs. “I just miss my little family. Shadowheart. Holding my little one. I hope this is the last time we have to deal with something as mortifying as what we just witnessed. That’s not the type of debauchery I’m used to.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I express with a feeling of absence within my mind. “Let’s camp and make our way back home. I’ve had enough for one damned day.” The sun begins to set, radiating a glorious violet aura and soothing to the sight. Finally, some peace on this forsaken day.

The evening ends with us eating at the campfire, cooking delicious food, and enjoying each other’s company. Time for some well-needed rest.

{find part 1 and the rest of part 2 of “Heart of the Weave” on my AO3. Link on my pinned post!}

[tadpolejourney]

Day 22

I was way too upset last night. I wrote so angrily I actually broke my quill and ripped through the paper at the end of my last entry, stabbing myself in the leg with it in the process. I threw the quill into the fire and went to bed early. I didn’t notice I had left my leg to bleed all night until this morning.

Before I started to write last night, I spoke with Gale and everyone else at camp. Literally no one but Gale supported Mystra's plan, naturally. Lae'zel had a particularly interesting insight as a follower of Vlaakith. She thinks Mystra is doing this for selfish reasons. The Absolute must be a threat to her dominion. And she has no faith in Gale whatsoever, which is why she is demanding he die while still demanding his faith. Again I say, it's absurd.

Yesterday we ventured into the ruins of a Lathander monastery in order to gain access to the githyanki creche.

A small troop of githyanki were outside with a few Absolutists that they'd captured. One cultist tried to run and got shot in the back. Safe to say we found the creche. The dream guardian spoke to me outside the door leading to the creche, and bid me to stay away from the githyanki. I couldn’t turn back then, after promising Lae'zel and making it all the way there. We had to see this through. Besides, it gave me no good reason to stay away other than it said so? Consider yourself ignored, guardian guy. That door was magically locked anyway. At least now I know for sure that thing, whatever it is, is not omnipotent.

In our attempts to find another entrance to the creche, we found a pack of kobold looters drunk on firewine. There were too many of them, so we stayed in the side room and had someone by the door to close it behind anyone who made their way in. Again, my tried and true battle tactic when you're ambushed and/or outnumbered... It should have been an easy fight since our enemies were drunk.

Gale had other ideas. The kobolds had bellies full of firewine, there's firewine on the ground, and firewine barrels everywhere. It's a very flammable space. What does Gale do? He casts fireball in the entryway of the next room where all the kobolds are. Perhaps a great idea in theory or in other circumstances. And sure, he killed a couple, but the blast burned all of us, knocked him backwards, set the room we were in on fire, and I was hurt so badly I fell unconscious. The fire nearly killed me. Astarion tried to pull me up but couldn't get me out of the fire, and I blacked out again. When Gale pulled me up, I was surrounded by kobold corpses and more were making their way into the room from above, but the fire was out.

We finished them off, and Lae'zel seemed really inspired by that battle for some reason. I guess we adapted well and had good teamwork in the end? Or maybe it was me almost dying. I don't know, I probably would have inspired her if I'd died in that fire. Gale asked for my forgiveness immediately, and of course he got it. Mistakes happen, and I'm sure he won't cast a fireball like that anytime soon. I think he's used to being more... precise as a formerly top-notch wizard than he currently is. Maybe he just didn't see that big old barrel of firewine by the door. Oh well, nobody died and we won the fight, that's all that matters.

Then we ran into a huge gremishka nest. Since there wasn't any fire and Gale didn't cast any spells, that one was quick and easy.

Being in the Lathander monastery's ruins reminded me a lot of my dad. He was sent to Baldur's Gate by his monastic order (of Helm) to help protect the city's growing population of lost and hopeless people. I was one of the lost and hopeless people he found and protected. He adopted me and changed my life. Before that I'd been nothing but a victim. A dolly for my biological parents, an easy target for criminals, devils, and monsters. He taught me how to defend myself and how to heal my mind from the horrors I experienced from infancy until we met. He saved me, in all the ways a person can be saved: physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally. Monks, of any order, will always have my respect. I don't consider myself to be one, and truly I'm not a monk. I just know how to fight like one and how to think like one.

We explored the entire ground level, upper level, and roof of the monastery ruins. While exploring we learned this place stored the Blood of Lathander. Lae'zel, naturally, was completely disinterested and very frustrated with us backtracking and not going straight for the creche once we determined its location.

I told her dramatically, “I bet Shadowheart would be reeeeal interested in this place,” referring to the monastery ruins. To which Lae'zel replied, “Tchk, fine. But do not tarry for too long. We have waited long enough.”

We grabbed what we needed to find the Blood of Lathander below and headed into the creche. According to Lae'zel it seemed relaxed to the point of undisciplined. I suppose that's one perspective. It was istik this and istik that everywhere we went. Their healer had tons of mindflayer parasites. She studies them. The 'purification protocol', known to githyanki as the zaith'isk, is a crazy looking device. It looks insectoid and yet is definitely mechanical at the same time. I had a bad feeling about it. I insisted upon going first, even though Lae'zel was initially quite upset. She ended up being impressed by me over it because I stood my ground against her. I really only went first because this thing seemed dangerous, it was too late to back out of it, and I thought better me get hurt than her, Astarion, or Gale. I thought surely it couldn’t be worse than some of the shit I’ve been through in my life already.

I was right. It wasn’t worse, but it was pretty fucking bad, and definitely dangerous. That thing tormented me. It didn't cure me, but it sure did change me. I feel more in touch with the illithid tadpole than before. Not a good thing. Not at all. In the attempt to remove my infection the zaith'isk exploded. The healer was horrified and outraged. Lae'zel thought the creche must have a traitor in it because the 'treatment' failed. I was done entertaining the githyanki at that point. Crazy ass zealots, the lot of them. I got us out of there before we had to face any more danger. I decided we'll try our luck again with the Underdark.

We made our way back to the myconid colony today. There we met a mindflayer. It was peaceful, said it had broken free of the elder brain. Its name is Omeluum. It told me about the Grand Design, a plan to eliminate all githyanki and enslave all other humanoids. This is the first time I've ever had a conversation with a mindflayer. It's definitely different from my other experiences with its kind. It is offering to help me understand why my tadpole is different. All I have to do is find some rare and dangerous mushrooms that mess with your mind. Yeah.

I gave an antidote to an Ironhand gnome named Thulla. She wants us to go rescue her kin from duergar slavers across the lake. Looks like I'll get to help the gnomes and the myconid if I take out the duergar. I met with Sovereign Spaw as well. It was turning corpses into mushroom zombies. Normal mushroom guy stuff. Another sovereign, called Glut, came with us to kill the duergar.

On the way we ran into the bulette again, and managed to finish it off this time. Glut turned it into a mushroom zombie. That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life. Mushroom zombie bulette. I don't think we'll top that on this journey. Glut helped us kill all the duergar on this side of the lake, but immediately asked us afterwards to kill Spaw so it could take over the circle. We pushed it off a cliff.

Tonight in camp I didn't speak to anyone. I didn't hear much chatter around camp either. I think we're all starting to feel the weight of our situation, more than ever. We have so much more to worry about now than just becoming mindflayers.

<<< Day 21 | Index | Day 23 >>>

[ultraflavour]

While Hasbro continues to shoot themselves in the dick, the MCDM crowdfunder continues to climb.

In less than two weeks, they've already hit ~$3.3M in total funds and are steadily approaching the 20k backer mark. The current average spend is little over $170 per backer.

It's tempting to make grand, sweeping proclamations about what all of this means for the tabletop RPG industry. I don't know what ends up happening here.

But to me, what that number represents is a healthier, stronger Tabletop ecosystem for the laid-off D&D team members to land in. Those 19k backers and counting represent a population that's sorely needed in tabletop right now: People who are willing to make a big bet on something new, not just the big-money corporate product.

There needs to be more of that, and not just for the MCDM game. Those 19k backers? That's a good start, but that's just one company.

What needs to happen for the tabletop industry to be healthy is to prop up more independent and third-party creators, so that they can create jobs and make the industry a safer bet for people to land in.

A boycott of D&D is not the answer. That doesn't send the message we want to send. What we need, for Hasbro to choose to invest in D&D in the way they did before, is to gas up their competition.

And they have legitimate competitors. Aside from what's coming down the pipe, there's already Fabula Ultima, Blades in the Dark, Lancer, Pathfinder, Call of Cthulhu. All of these games have proven their own viability, and clearly show that you don't have to be the product of a massive corporation to make a fully-realized tabletop RPG.

Pathfinder in particular is a really interesting case. According to industry insiders, Pathfinder never actually beat 4th Edition in total sales. But that didn't matter for its overall perception. Even if Pathfinder never outsold 4th Edition, it created the perception that it was the "winner" of that generation.

That should go to show you that even though D&D sold a lot of books this generation and seems to be continuously running up the scoreboard with huge successes like Baldur's Gate 3, it's never been invincible. And it's not outside of the realm of the possibility for the nerdiest parts of the D&D community to choose to walk away from it. That's how edition changes start.

That's what gives me hope for the immediate future. The thing that does need to change, in my mind, is the idea that there's no sense trying to beat D&D. Just because it's likely that nobody will ever truly "beat" D&D doesn't mean that we should dismiss any attempts to do so. As we've already seen, there are real competitors out there.

There's still a lot to be done, and we still don't know how things are going to shake out. But there is clearly an appetite out there for a bigger, more diverse ecosystem of RPGs. All we need to do as players is to stop being unpaid brand ambassadors for Hasbro and instead start propping up smaller game studios so they can become First-Party.

That's what it all comes down to. We all, even longtime D&D players, have a vested interest in ensuring the health of the broader tabletop RPG industry.

[loyalborn]

@awsheets sent: catch, sender catches receiver by the waist after they bump into each other. - zak to estelle

The collision was enough to knock a few things out of her basket; a collection of herbs and a few spools of thread. Unfortunately, the dressings fell to the ground as well and instantly became soiled. There was a flash of annoyance at supplies being ruined, but the touch to her waist redirected her attention.

It wasn't unheard of to see drow, especially with how heavily populated Baldur's Gate was, but it wasn't an everyday occurrence either. Estelle was well aware of the ignorant, but common, ideas people had about them, but she didn't let it sway her mind.

"Excuse me, sir."

[thornfield13713]

Okay, yes, everyone is probably very tired of my Tavs by now, but - meet Thoradin! My latest, with plans for a Wyllmance, because I said I was getting him his own personal Jaskier, and I am going to deliver.

Except Thoradin sort of developed a bit while I was tossing ideas around, and now he's a Jaskier-type whose career went a bit sideways pretty early on and who's been out of practice for a good few years.

Thoradin was born in Icewind Dale, but left home shortly after achieving his majority to seek his fortune as an adventurer, alongside his then-boyfriend. His parents, respectable dwarven craftspeople, did not approve of this decision in the least and prophesied doom and failure, and so they haven't spoken since. They were, however, sort-of right - adventuring did not go well, and Thoradin and his boyfriend soon fell apart, leading Thoradin to fall in with a number of small-time adventuring parties, and an almost-equal number of ill-advised youthful relationships. Eventually, however, the boyfriend of the moment got Thoradin pregnant (it's the Forgotten Realms, there's magic, one trans male pregnancy is not going to break the lore, get off my back). Thoradin decided to keep the kid, broke with the current adventuring party (including a break-up with his child's father, who really wasn't interested in parenthood), and settled down in Baldur's Gate's Blackgate district, which had a large shield dwarven population. Since then, he's been making his living as best he can as an entertainer and performer in various taverns around the city, and trying to raise a half-human child who appears to have inherited her other father's draconic bloodline sorcery.

And then he got nabbed by mind flayers on the way home from an evening's performance - coincidentally just before a certain elven vampire spawn was about to try luring him back to Cazador for an evening snack.

Thoradin is very determined to do two things: get this parasite out of his head and get home to his kid. Unfortunately, the road is dangerous, and his companions - especially the far-too-noble warlock he's developing a real thing for - will keep getting him involved in adventures which are- well, they're great fodder for new songs, but also delaying his return home something awful, which might lead to some interesting character tensions.

[the-masked-ram]

Flawed Hope- Chapter Three

CW: NSFW, Fem OC, Slow Burn, Isekai, Vampirism (do I even need to warn this), Canon Divergent, enemies to lovers, mental health issues, spoilers for BG3 ----

Chapter Three: More Twists and Turns

“How… how do you know my name? Is this still part of the dream?” Brit asked, panic rising in her because she knew, she knew what his answer was going to be.

“It was never part of a dream. Just… some god meddling in my affairs once again. As always, and you,” his fingers twitched by his side and his head tilted thoughtfully, “you will be harder to control than the others, won’t you?”

“If you mean that I know what’s going to happen, then yes,” Brit bristled, trying to control the anxiety and denial roiling within her.

She needed to focus on the information being fed to her. She could freak out later.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his tiefling nose, “This was not what I expected.”

“Baldur’s Gate Three is just a game,” Brit said as her thoughts ran away with her anyway, her ability to ignore those growing emotions was lost.

“It is in your world. But there are plenty of things that the Mundane dimension doesn’t know about. This place is filled with magic, this place is very real, and the world which you had come to love as a game is very much your reality now. We’d lost the battle too many times. In our reality too many lives were lost. A god must have intervened. A very powerful god. Whether it was a singular one or not…,” the Emperor in disguise trailed off.

“But why me?” Brit asked.

“That’s not a question for me,” he said and narrowed his eyes. “Whoever it is that is pulling the strings knows we can’t keep playing the same hand of cards over and over. They are using you, an unseen variable, to change the tide.”

“How can I change anything!? I can’t even shoot a fucking bow! I can’t survive here! I’ll die!” Brit was screaming, she was crying, and all the fears and emotions that had been crushing her were now tumbling out. “I’ll get the others killed…”

She whispered her last words as if terrified to say them out loud. Now that this was real, now that the pain and every sensation she’d been feeling made sense, she felt like she was going to throw up. She was going to rip out her hair. She was going to go insane. None of this made sense. Magic wasn’t a thing. Not in her world.

She didn’t want the fate of a whole world that wasn’t even her own in her hands. She didn’t want people that she had come to care about through a video game to have real lives and be able to die for real. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t put their lives, her life, on the line and ruin it all. She had no idea what she was doing. This was all just too much.

“I just want to go home,” she sank to her knees and curled in upon herself.

She cried, big fat and acidic tears that rolled down her cheeks, that stuffed up her nose. It was ugly, with hiccups that interrupted her every inhale. She hated that she was exposing herself this way to anyone. Yet who would be able to hold themselves together after all that got dumped on them? Certainly not her, not some paralegal just a few years out of school. What skills did she have to survive here? What skills did she have to save an entire population?

After sobbing for a few minutes or it could have been hours for all she knew, she looked up. He was still there. Still watching with a mixture of disgust and pity twisting his red features.

“Enough,” he sighed, and waved his massive hand.

The world around her bent in upon itself, twisting and swirling until it became nothing but darkness. Until she was once again alone, and she found solace in a dreamless sleep. Hoping before the true unconsciousness found her once again, that perhaps she would wake up in her own bed back in her apartment.

---

She woke instead to the quiet crackles of the fire and the sounds of camp beginning to come to life. No one had woken her for her shift on watch last night. She was almost grateful.

Brit looked over the tents crowded in the small space they’d found. This was her reality now. Honestly she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Terrified? Lonely? Lost? Useless? They all seemed right.

Her gaze found itself drawn to the tent that was closer to her than she wanted. The tent that she wished was all the way across the clearing but instead was her direct neighbor. Astarion. She had to make nice with him, as much as possible, without stepping over the obvious line that existed between allies and lovers within the game. She didn’t think she could actually handle something romantic or even a fling right now and definitely not with him, not if it was real.

“Are you alright?”

Brit flinched when a deep voice floated up from behind her but when she turned, she saw it was merely Gale. She smiled awkwardly; the question was how much would she tell everyone?

“Yeah, just surprised no one woke me,” she shrugged.

“Astarion took over, said you need your sleep… Though I suppose the way he said it was far more…,” he rotated his hand as if hesitant to talk badly about the other man.

Brit snorted, “Well he wasn’t wrong. Umm… Gale?”

The wizard hummed questioningly as he turned the slab of meat that would be their breakfast on a stone near the fire.

“Did you have a weird dream last night?” she asked.

He tilted his head, “What constitutes as a weird dream?”

She laughed hard enough to cough.

“I mean obviously just dreaming about the day would be enough to be strange,” he said thoughtfully, seriously, almost arrogantly as if his word was law. “The last twenty-four hours have been- well Mystra save us- enough to cause some nightmares.”

She snorted again trying to regain control of herself, “No, it’s fine. A dream is a dream after all.”

Gale turned to her this time, and he narrowed his eyes, she noticed they seemed to flick around her. Focusing on the space that directly surrounded her torso and head and she wondered what it was he saw. She turned to follow her gaze but was left in the dark.

“They are at that. But sometimes they mean something a little more,” he said cryptically. “Now! What do you say to some breakfast! It’s nothing fancy but you need some food in you after our fights yesterday.”

Food sounded good, but food that was a croissant breakfast sandwich from that ridiculously pricey café down the street from her office. Not whatever that meat was. Was it even a protein source she would recognize? Brit sighed; did she have the right to be picky?

She swore the only good thing about all this shit was that she didn’t need glasses anymore. Though it was strange to touch her face and not feel them, maybe it was stranger still to feel the pointy ears of an elf. She sat down and frowned as he passed her rough-hewn plate with meat, bread, and a bit of berries from the surrounding area.

Berries and bread were a safe bet, her stomach was still swirling with anxiety-induced nausea. She still wasn’t sure what to tell these people. She looked at Gale happily eating as she nibbled at the loaf of bread. Did she tell him that she was from another dimension? If anyone would understand it would be him. Either that or he’d sign her off as crazy and not let her near the frontlines. Though, would that be so bad?

The reminder that she needed to practice throbbed painfully in skull, turning from a thought to an approaching headache. God, was good eyesight really all she got from Ritlyn? Did she even retain her propensity for migraines?

“I’m gonna go to the training area,” Brit said, and she knew it must have seemed abrupt, but she stood up all the same, carefully setting her food aside. “Thanks for breakfast Gale.”

She didn’t hear what he said in reply but when she looked over her shoulder while bending down to grab her bow, she noticed his gaze on her. His eyes were narrowed once again, and he kept looking at that space around her. What the fuck?! Was she attracting flies or faeries or whatever the hell they had in this world?

She stood after packing her things and flapped her hands around her head as if that would break up whatever it was that was haunting her. When she looked back at him was intently focused on the fire and absolutely not looking at her. Brit scoffed and shouldered her backpack higher before walking off.

It was strange leaving the party behind, not having to tell them to wait or split off from the group. Instead, they were actual people with their own agendas and yes it would have been more intelligent for them to have gone with her because she actually wasn’t going to the training space like she had told Gale. Yet… she didn’t want to be the reason they got killed. If she was going to die getting to Karlach, she was going to do that all on her own and take nobody else with her. Not even Astarion. Despite how much he annoyed her, she didn’t necessarily want him to die.

So, when she left the Grove, keeping her head down so that no one called out to her as she passed through the gate, she forced herself not to stop. She forced her eyes to stay forward and gritted her teeth because this was her choice. She had no way back home. This… place, the Sword Coast, was her home now and honestly wasn’t that what she had wished for. She couldn’t complain, she had no right to.

Tears tracked down her cheeks and she hated it. She didn’t let the sobs grip tighter, she didn’t let them grow heavier like they wanted to, instead she sniffled and let the tears flow silent and free. It was oddly relieving to be alone, to be able to cry, to just feel so lost even though she picked her way across trails she recognized more than she should have.

It was different than the map of Baldur’s Gate Three. It was larger, with more side routes to take, but the main paths were the same, the large landmarks familiar and on that trek, it was enough to make her feel slightly more like she could love this new version.

The woods whispered around her and for a moment she stood still, letting the breeze drag through her hair and brush over her skin. The sound of birds chirping and cicadas droning drifted in one ear and out the other. As she settled firmly into her senses and less in her racing thoughts and doomed emotions, Brit stiffened. She heard it, the change in the atmosphere.

Something inside her, that part that screamed ‘survive’, that part that wasn’t her, but she had realized was Ritlyn warned her. Her Ranger instincts reared to life and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled as every sound stopped but the wind. A predator was nearby. Then the careful sound of a step came from behind her.

Brit allowed her hands to move fluidly, following an instinct she knew wasn’t hers but knew would protect her. She drew her short sword and spun. Just waiting beyond the point was a pale elf she recognized all too well.

“Astarion,” she hissed.

“Well,” his smile was a mix of deadly intent and flirtatious innuendos. “Lovely to see you too, pet.”

“What the fuck are you following me for?” Brit snarled, pressing her blade closer.

“Language, really,” he sighed as if it physically hurt him to hear her curse. “I just happened to be walking the same way, dear. Nothing more. Honest.”

He held up his hands innocently, as if that would help him plead his case. Yet that expression on his face was anything but naïve. He was planning something. It didn’t help with the way his eyes pinned her, making her feel raw and exposed. Still, she had no reason to distrust him. Not really.

Brit felt her instincts relax and her arm dropped, “Why?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You see, I’m much more the lone wolf type than you are. The question is, why-y are you out here? All by your lonesome, hm?” Astarion pouted thoughtfully.

She bristled under his loaded question. His words seemed light, careful, even his tone had that carefully practiced brightness he used to diffuse situations and throw people off. But she could see the curiosity, the calculation behind his burgundy gaze.

He gasped and clapped his hands, “You wouldn’t be running away, now?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Brit rolled her eyes. “No… there’s just something I have to do.”

She looked toward the destination she was headed to.

“Alone?” he asked.

“Alone,” she affirmed.

“You’re the one who said we’d be better together didn’t you,” he reminded.

She hated him, “Why do you care?”

“Shouldn’t I care about what one of my allies is doing? Especially when she can’t use a bow, though…,” he looked down at her blade with a salacious grin. “Apparently you are well adept at tracking and using that sword. You have been holding out, haven’t you?”

Everything he said somehow managed to cause her teeth to grind but also caused her skin to prickle with desire. It was like his words were dragging across her skin, lapping her up, bathing her in fire and arousal.

She narrowed her eyes, “You don’t know everything about me Astarion. However, … I know far more about you.”

She took a step toward him and that sword that had been resting at side her itched to rise. Brit was surprised by the desire, it wasn’t her own, yet it wasn’t completely separate. It was fueled by her irritation at the man, yet she would never reach for a weapon just because someone pissed her off.

Astarion, however, seemed entranced by her words. Whether in terror or with excitement she wasn’t sure.

“Do you now?” he breathed.

She stepped back again, putting more space between them, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Just… don’t get in my way if you are going to follow me,” Brit sighed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he purred. “However, they might.”

Brit looked up and the rest of the party walked out of the undergrowth. Lae’zel looked irritated, Shadowheart pissed, and Gale was weary. Fuck, so much for not involving them.

[zydrateacademy]

First Impressions: Warhammer 40,000 Rogue Trader

So what we have here is an XCOM-like turn based strategy game. I refer to XCOM despite hardly being the first of its type, just the one that sort of 'codified' the genre for many players as it was a huge success in its day.

The story is thus; You play as a custom character (or choose one of the three presets to just get into it), regardless of your name you're actually in the bloodline of a specific noble dynasty. How far removed is irrelevant in the setting as you meet two characters in the prologue whose own lineage is varied. In a setting with a vast population beyond our imagining, imagine you're just standing among a couple of insanely distant cousins. As this is Warhammer, stuff goes badly and you're promoted to a very highly ranked person in the Imperium. Standard fare if you've played the likes of Mass Effect. The game essentially just hands you a title to throw around the game at your leisure and there's only a couple of institutions that outrank you at all.

Character creation is robust, perhaps not so much as Baldur's Gate 3's is but I still found myself with several character ideas. Also, clicking the portraits will automatically morph your sprite into something that resembles the portrait which is a very nice touch. Doesn't work with custom portraits but I can still get to an approximation. There's several tabs to chew through that all give and take against various stats you'll know nothing about at first but usually a mouseover or a right click brings up various tooltips (at any point during the game) that will explain what things like "Fellowship" and "carouse" means. There's some mix-matching to play around with as you have six origins to choose from but the game is mostly based around the four base "classes", each choice later evolves into three subclasses after reaching level 16.

So far playing a dozen or so hours into it and gathering several party members, I find the classes to be limiting. Warriors always swing the sword, soldiers always shoot, operatives always plop debuffs. That said, not every skill takes up your entire action pool so I've found even my technical party members still able to bring the hurt with their sidearms. Eventually you get a Mechanicus who can wield two two-handed weapons without swapping and despite him basically being your designated lockpicker, I've used him to bring absolute ruin to my enemies. Again, despite his more debuff based class choices.

You can follow between three paths; Someone who's helpful and idealistic, incredibly fanatical to the Imperium, or go against the grain and slowly become a full blown heretic. Certain equipment is limited to these alignments. My first main character I'm playing as fairly dogmatic, but when I had the chance to quell a small union outcry among my workers on my ship, I chose to hear them out and make concessions. Despite being dogmatic, it is your choice to absolutely start gunning them down and rule through fear. That's just how this world is sometimes. I'm quite certain that choice will come bite my buttocks later down the line.

After that it's just following story beats with encounter after encounter. Your stats are often relevant even in dialog so it's always fun to see how different characters may react to things.

Difficulty seems variable and highly customizeable. So far I've been to two major missions and two locations but nobody seems to ever get completely inflated with hitpoints. Weak enemies always have 7 or 12 hitpoints, all the way from level one to the higher level I am now. Maybe it's act-based and act two might have beefier enemies. Don't know yet. But it seems all my people are only getting a couple hitpoints per level up so you don't exactly barrel into being a complete powerhouse, you simple get more tools and passive perks at your disposal. And there's a ton, most of which I forget about between sessions. I think my Sister of Battle teammate has some kind of perk that gives extra damage when she's adjacent to an ally but in the heat of battle I completely forget that exists and I'm just trying to position my shooters to they are in position to actually hit something. So mostly I try to go for 'unconditional' perks. Can't go wrong with +2 movement.

My current point of contention is the menus. They're not all terribly bad but I have trouble trying to decipher my goals. Within missions there's no map marker directing you where to go, so sometimes I miss a piece of the map that was actually a doorway that leads to a new wing of the ship. Sometimes the objective just states "Find out what's going on" or "reach the reactor" with no direction. I'm just flying by the seat of my pants and just casing the perimeter and so far it's working out well enough. I haven't spent too much time scratching my head... yet.

There's a beefy game here, expect to dump a lot of hours. My first five hours were basically doing the prologue three times to really get all the tutorials to sink in as well as explore different starter archetypes. There's a lot I didn't even talk about (like how you have to manage your mage-type's madness levels, or the injury mechanic, all kinds of things) and that'd just end up exceeding my text limits. There's a lot of game here. I haven't gotten to any game-breaking bugs that litter a lot of reviews but that seems to be a late-game problem and to my knowledge they've been pretty vigilant with hotfixes. I hope they keep it up.

[frek]

How do people make new friends in fandom these days? I found some of my favorite people through rping on like Omegle and livejournal. And others on Twitter, where I’m not anymore. It’s not often that I end up settling in a fandom that isn’t already populated with several people I know and love.

I just want to find my Baldur’s Gate people that I can chat with. That can swap headcanons and fic ideas. That can rp and tag when ideas start happening. I hate feeling alone in a fandom.

Is there a Baldur’s Gate fandom discord that has fandom olds? Like people that remember strike-through?