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#reformed druid
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Sendak's voice taunting Shiro about the two of them being "connected" when contextualized with the heavy implication that Sendak sexually violated Shiro, makes me want to retch.
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minnesotadruids · 10 months
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The Order of Bradán Feasa (OBF)
Unit One of an RDNA Druid training program is finally in its first draft! I started writing this in 2020, and wrote a majority of it (114 pages) that year because I wanted to have created something before the feared perception of probably contracting Covid and dying therefrom. Then once I was vaccinated, I got complacent and set the draft aside, coming back to it perhaps once a month, re-reading and revising, not really adding any new content.
In an attempt to push forward with my list of proposed topics, I started to realize I was not qualified to create content for many of them, and that I needed to do a lot more reading and learning for my own sake before continuing. Thus 2021, 2022, and much of 2023 were dedicated to reading my stack of purchased but unread books, annotating, highlighting, and cross-referencing for veracity.
I still have a lot of reading and learning ahead of me, but much of that will align with Unit Three, which hasn't been started yet. Unit Two has actually been in a draft form since 2017, and there will be an exam to go with it. This will probably be the first modern Druid training program with an exam, and it will require a 90% score or higher to pass.
What is the OBF?
The Order of Bradán Feasa is a non-clerical side order made for the Reformed Druids of North America. The name means the "Salmon of Knowledge" in Irish Gaelic, and is a reference to the myth of Finn McCool gaining all the world's knowledge when he burns himself while cooking the salmon. Any person who completes Units One and Two will be inducted to OBF and given a digital certificate indicating completion of said training program. Units One and Two would be considered sufficient training for in-person candidates to be invited to Second Order initiation in the RDNA. The optional Unit Three is the RDNA Clergy Prep Course and Grove Governance Guide (GGG), and would be considered prerequisite to ordination to the Third Order: the RDNA priesthood, in addition to existing customary requirements such as the supervised All-Night Vigil.
Completing the First Draft
While some people write novels during November for N.A.N.O.M.I.R.O. or whatever, I was suddenly inspired to get Unit One done. Over the month of November I wrote 55 new pages and revised existing content again. No, that's no novel, but writing something of (hopefully) academic quality with APA citations is a bit more meticulous, especially with this being my first "college level" type of project in about 16 years.
Members of Oakdale Grove are in the process of reviewing and annotating the first draft already. I find it easier to spot needed revisions or typos when something is in print, plus I love writing directly on drafts with an ink pen because I'm an older millennial (roars in dinosaur, lol). And I get to review and mark it up for editing with a bit of a Dark Academia aesthetic. I'm a bit shocked that Unit 1 is 169 pages, and likely to grow. We've already identified some sections that don't exist yet that need to be here. Unit 2 is much smaller. I expect Unit 3 to be smaller, as well.
The goal is for Unit 1 to go live before Beltane 2024, for Unit 2 to go live by the Autumnal Equinox of 2024, and for Unit 3 to go live by the end of 2024. That last one has the greatest uncertainty though, because I still have two important books to read, and possibly more that I haven't found yet.
See also: OBF Program Syllabus
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sepiidae · 1 year
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I was only able to escape the Wrath of the Righteous character creation screen because Reformed Fiend Bloodrager was right there as a character hook, I’m not sure how I’m going to escape Baulder’s Gate 3
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kiame-sama · 1 year
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More of druid Tav with Yan companions+ Raphael
Warnings; gender neutral Tav/reader, druid Tav/reader, yandere, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, injury, threat to life/limb, yandere companions, spoilers for act 1 companions, slight spoilers for a bit of the act 2 side quests,
~~~~~~~~
"This deal is with your vampire spawn friend, not you. I don't want you getting involved in this matter."
"I am the unofficial leader of this group and I refuse to let a cambion tell me I can't protect my companions."
~~~~
Raphael frowned deeply as he thought back on the light spat he had with the defacto leader of the illithid anomaly group. He had plans for the druid far beyond the defeat of the Absolute and their cultists. One could even say that he had formed an attachment to them far beyond what he should when it comes to the pawns of his game. To think, the powerful cambion- master of the chess board of life- has formed an affection for one of the pawns on his side of the board. Or perhaps, it would be better to assign them to the king piece. If his precious druid falls, so too does all of Baldur's Gate and the rest of the Sword Coast. He cannot afford to be put in check, least of all check-mate.
The Orthon he had set the group after had already appeared in his House of Hope as agreed upon. Now, he stood waiting for the group to return to their camp to hold up his end of the bargain.
He expected them to return quickly and they did exactly that, what he didn't expect was the group to return in a frazzled and rushed state. None of the odd group even glanced in Raphael's direction as the Githyanki and the Tiefling grabbed several bedrolls, laying them out on top of the other. The rest of the group was not far behind as they hurried into the camp, the human waving forward the rest with a frantic gesture.
"Come on, Astarion, hurry!"
"I'm fucking hurrying, Wyll! You try running with your arms full like this!"
The spat between the two made Raphael raise a brow, wondering just what all of the fuss was about. It wasn't until the vampire spawn lay what was in his arms on the bedrolls that Raphael even realized the weight of the situation. Laying limply with blood-marred skin was the beloved druid, clearly having suffered some kind of serious wound. Raphael knew the tell-tale jagged edges of the open injury on their soft body, one that could only be caused by an Orthon.
The half-elf cleric and the burly elf druid kneeled on either side of their unconscious leader, trying to use their various magics to staunch the blood flow. None of what they did seemed to be working and Raphael knew he would have to act or risk losing his precious druid permanently to the cruel hands of death. He was quick to shove the half-elf aside so he could access his favorite mortal and try to prevent the rapidly approaching end.
"Hey," Shadowheart snapped at the demon, "what the hells are you doing!?"
Raphael didn't even give a response to the upset woman, setting to reversing the damage done by his soon to be reformed minion. He had half a mind to just flay the minion that dare put such a wound on his precious druid, but he also knew others may take it as a sign of weakness. All he could do for the time being was try to help his little druid survive what- to most- is a mortal wound. Luckily for sweet (y/n) they had a powerful cambion lord on their side who could actually heal an Orthon caused wound.
For most, a direct attack from an Orthon causes death. Usually only a powerful cambion could reverse such a wound, lucky for them that Raphael was certainly a powerful cambion.
Where the healing efforts of the cleric and other druid had done little for the large wound, Raphael's touch managed to close the injury within moments. It had certainly been something that would have killed his favorite misadventurer and they had near infernal luck to survive up until reaching Raphael at their camp. Their sallow skin made his chest tighten as he searched for any sign of true recovery before he noticed their deep breaths, relaxing almost instantly.
"How did this happen?"
Raphael spoke in an even tone, but the hard edge to his words was not lost on those present. He wanted an answer and he expected nothing but the truth from them.
"It's our fault, really."
Gale spoke up, his tone bitter with resentment towards himself and the other companions responsible for allowing such an injury to befall the beloved druid. Where they had not inflicted such a wound, they were still the ones their leader was injured protecting. They all felt there was blame to share as they had not heeded the wise words of their leader and their leader paid the price for it.
"(Y/n) instructed us to not group up on the edge of the platform, but... we did anyway. That Orthon intended to shove us all off to the floor below and kill us, but (Y/n) blocked the attack with their own body, using themselves to absorb the attack."
Raphael felt a spark of annoyance flash in his mind, but decided to let it go in favor of focusing on his darling druid. They were slowly waking from their brief brush with death and seemed rather disoriented with the world around them. Their slowly trailing eyes fixed first on Raphael, a dazed and kind smile pulling at their lips as they reached out to him. He didn't pull away but watched in slight confusion as they rest their hand on his cheek.
"Raphael... thought angels were supposed to greet me when I died?"
Raphael couldn't stop the affectionate chuckle that escaped his lips, laying his hand over the druid's.
"Well, angels don't tend to save or greet the living."
"Save..? The Orthon magic... I figured it would take a devil to heal devil magic."
"If you figured as much, why didn't you call for me?"
"I doubt you would have shown."
The smallest wince from Raphael drew the attention of the onlookers, it only now dawning on them that Raphael may feel attached to (y/n) too. Some were in furious disbelief at the simple idea of this cambion bastard going after their dear leader. Some were impressed that their leader had ensnared the heart of a cambion. Even the cambion didn't want to believe how much he had begun to adore the druid that entranced all others to trust and adore them.
"For you, my favorite misadventurer, I will always show. Rest now, your body has healed but your mind will be fighting the Orthon influence for a days time. I will do what I can to ease your rest."
He was quick to wave a hand over the druid's head, quickly sending them into sleep before they could reply to his confession. Now he had to face their loyal pack and get them to concede to allowing the devil a fair chance at winning the druid's heart.
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riddlesrose · 1 month
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on the chest of another
w/ astarion
cw; none but maybe mild ooc astarion
hi yeah i haven't posted in 13 months my bad enjoy
He doesn't know the last time he felt truly comfortable with another living person, he’d been turned into a blood-thirsty vampire hundreds of years ago, he slowly learnt that the people he attempts to love will wither away while he stays put, same age, same face, though he can’t see it. Astarion watches the world change and reform around him while he retains memories of those he loved before they were either taken by the cold hands of death itself or he was forced to sacrifice them to his evil lord, Cazador. 
When he’d been taken, kidnapped, vampnapped off the streets of Baldur’s Gate, he’d never been so thankful, he was free, albeit trapped in a flying ship with aliens and other kidnapees, he was free from Cazador and the horrible treatment he’d endured for years upon years. He felt unrestricted until they threw him into a pod, then forcefully inserted an alien-type creature into his eye. He writhed in pain, attempting to free his arms, hands or legs to fight back, but it proved fruitless, he was stuck, and now, he had no idea what was going to happen to him. 
Astarion doesn’t know how long he’d been out, unconscious but before he could collect his thoughts, he realized that the flying ship he was, unfortunately, still on, was on fire, being actively attacked. 
After the ship had been knocked around a few times, set more on fire, he noticed a person, they were free, walking around like nothing was happening, or maybe looking for an exit, but they were definitely too far for anything to be heard had he banged on the front of his pod. That’s it, this is his end, he’ll probably just die when this ship inevitably crashes. Oh well, it’s a better outcome than being Cazador’s slave for the rest of his miserable life. 
Astarion stirred, feeling the sun warm his body, wait, the sun? He shot up, he should be turning to ash, he lifted his hands to check he really wasn’t chipping away in the sunlight. This has to be a cruel joke, Cazador or someone of his likes toying with him, teasing him with what he misses and has missed for the past 200 years. That and maybe his own reflection. But oh dear, how he’s missed the sun. The feeling, how it makes him feel, he feels happy, momentarily, until he remembers what just happened. First, getting kidnapped, then having some kind of tadpole inserted into his brain, now, he’s in the sun. What the hell. 
Then he also remembers the lone traveller that wandered free upon the ship, they’re probably around here somewhere, he better lure them out, question them. 
Many weeks passed by, Astarion ended up joining forces with the traveller he almost attacked, whom he learned goes by Tav, a Githyanki, a wizard, a cleric, a Tiefling, a druid and a warlock. He’d fought in many battles, some great, some his companions dragged him to, earned himself a few new friends, shared many stories with the camp, and shared his secret. The camp was very accepting of his condition, as long as he didn’t feed on an unwilling target. Tav was a dear on the night he almost starved, he’d gotten so hungry he thought he’d be able to sneak a quick bite without Tav noticing, guess guards were still too high and they noticed as soon as he got too close at night. After exposing himself on accident, Tav had offered a small amount of their blood to aid him. Now, it’s almost nightly he’ll go find Tav in their tent or bedroll and sate his hunger. Rats and boars just don’t tide him over anymore now that he has his own food source, willing food source. 
“Astarion?” Tav stirred, cracking their eyes, while searching for his. 
“Yes, my dear?” He hovered over them, looking as if he was going to feed but almost backing away this time. 
“I can feel you hesitating, why?” Tav had always been able to feel when he made his way into their tent for his needs, sometimes they woke but never pushed him away or forced him to take less than he needed. 
“Why, I am not! I am simply… going to wait for you to go back to sleep.” He looked proud with his excuse. 
“Lies. There’s another reason.” 
“There is not.”
“Yes there is.”
“No-”
“I’m not going to argue this, Astarion, is there something wrong?” 
He sighed, moved himself to sit by Tav’s legs and looked away, not bashfully, he was embarrassed. Tav sat up as well, but scooted closer to Astarion so he didn’t have to speak above a whisper if he did not see it fit.
“I feel greedy.” His demeanor of wit and confidence melted away as the bugs and frogs sang their night songs in the nearby pond. The night was cold, usually lonely, but he felt a sort of comfort with Tav that he hadn’t felt in years, he vowed to himself after he was turned that all mortals were never to be loved by him. They were going to die and he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair, he wanted to grow old with someone he loved deeply, he wanted more than to be someone’s pawn, a spawn of evil intent, born to do no good. 
Tav did not say anything, only tilting their head to the side with empathy shining in their eyes. 
“Now, I’m not asking for pity, dear, don’t give me that look.” 
“I know, I was simply allowing you to continue without interrupting, but look where we are.” 
“Cheeky. Fine,” He took a breath, thinking for a moment, “I haven’t been free of Cazador in two hundred years, I am unsure how to feel, how to live, frankly. I have been his slave, I’ve done his dirty work for as long as I can remember, I had no way out, I was underfed, mistreated, beaten, used, abused, everything you can think of darling, I experienced it under Cazador’s orders.” Sometime during his small rant you had moved closer, draping a blanket around his shoulders, and rested a hand on his shoulder, showing support without interrupting him. Astarion looked over to you with pain and sadness in his glossy red eyes. 
“Why don’t you stay for a while, you can leave before the sun comes up, no one has to know the witty and confident Astarion we all know stayed the night in another’s tent.” Tav proposed. They moved back onto the bedding they had tucked into the most private part of their tent, allowing him to follow if he chose to. He was not pressured, not forced, but given complete free will of his actions, something he still could not fully capture the grasp of because of his past. He thought on the choices he was proposed, 
“Only for a few minutes.” He decided since he doesn’t really sleep anyways, he’s an elf. He crept a few inches closer, unsure of where to go, Tav lied down and patted their chest, colour rose to Astarion’s pale cheeks, he was thankful it was dark. He took a few awkward seconds of staring at Tav before snapping out of his trance and shuffling back a few inches so his head could rest on their chest, he felt out of place, inconvenient, a burden to Tav’s sleeping. He was about to get up and thank Tav for their time before they brushed their hand through his messy curls and he stopped. His heart began beating a tad bit faster, he promised, no swore, that no mortal would make him feel this comfortable, loved, cared for, he knew what was inevitable… 
After many minutes, Tav could feel his breathing slow as they continued to rake their hand through his hair, untangling pieces every so often, they watched his eyelashes flutter before his breathing fell in tempo with their own. Tav guessed it had been a while since he’d felt comfortable, given his history and all. It was true, so for the first time in many, many years, Astarion fell asleep to the sound of a heart beating in the chest of another. 
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thewritetofreespeech · 3 months
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Halsin x Reader
words: 1.2K
rating: G
pairing: Halsin x Reader/Tav (post-epilogue)
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When Halsin took on the duty of reforming the Shadow Lands and taking care of the refugees there, he didn’t realize how much work it would be.
He was not shy of hard work. Halsin loved it. He felt useless for the first time in centuries. However, taking care of so many children, along with helping Thaniel resort balance to the blighted nature around the land, was draining.
“Are you alright master Halsin?”
The druid turned to see one of his old charges there, Willow. A sweet girl. Shy as a rabbit from what he remembered from his time in the grove, but still brave enough to leave it when her heart felt the call to help those in need. She had arrived from the Grove a few months after his own return from meeting friends. Wanting to help. Halsin had been delighted. Selfishly hoping that perhaps some of his efforts as Archdruid had rubbed off on her.
“Yes, I’m fine Willow. And you don’t need to call me ‘master Halsin’ anymore. As I’ve mentioned, Halsin is fine.”
“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Old habits.” The girl bashfully fiddled with her hair and shuffled her feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked tired.”
“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to look the part, now, would we?” Halsin teased. To which Willow bashfully stammered more, and he laughed. “Don’t worry. I appreciate the concern. I am a little tired if I’m being honest. Nothing a goodnight’s sleep won’t cure.”
“You do so much to take care of us mast—I mean, Halsin. Someone should take care of you.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He replied. Perhaps missing the true meaning of her words. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Most days. And, I do have someone to help take care of me.”
Since the meeting with their friends, Halsin was delighted to have [Y/N] back by his side. Their time apart had been brief for an elf, yet it felt like the longest time in his existence. He was over the moon when they agreed to come back here with him, now that things were settled; here and in the Gate. Their presence, their compassion, their desire to help this place as well, was a light that this place desperately needed still. And, he had come to realize, he did too.
Halsin said his goodnights to Willow and returned to the small home he had built, which now housed him and [Y/N]. Where once he would have spent his life in tents, or even simpler under the stars, more and more these days he was growing fond of these walls. A phase, he assumed.
"Not making any progress with her?" [Y/N] asked when he arrived at their door. Their ‘town’ was very small. The center of which you could see clearly from one end to the other from your own front door. Which was what [Y/N] was doing with their evening cup of tea.
"What?" Halsin looked confused. Then realized what they must be talking about. "Oh, Willow? She is very clever, but I fear it will take her some time before understanding the basics of her medicine and magic. Progress is a process."
[Y/N] chuckled. "No, I mean progress. You know she's into you, right?"
Halsin was for once surprised. He supposed, deep down, he knew of their attraction to him. He was usually very good at uncovering the desires of others. But with Willow he had been.... blinded to her advances. "Honestly no. I hadn't noticed."
It was [Y/N]’s turn to be surprised it seemed, as they pondered his comment and sipped their tea. “Oh. I’m surprised. I thought you would have jumped on that in a moment. Literally.”
Halsin frowned a little at [Y/N]. “I don’t ‘jump’ on anything.” True, he was open to all experiences that nature had to offer, but he thought he was a little more discerning than that. “Besides, when would I have time? Between the children, the lands, what little spare time I have is spent with you or in bed.”
“Or both.” He had to chuckle at that. When oh when would he develop the skill for not putting his foot in his mouth. Maybe in his next quarter century. “But, you know I don’t mind if you pursue something with her. You’re welcome to explore….whatever path you’d like. With whomever you’d like.”
Halsin was taken aback. Was that how he sounded when he brought this up to his lovers? “And you would really be comfortable with that?”
“You told me when we initially got together that you weren’t someone for monogamy.” They reminded him. “I didn’t assume that changed, or our relationship changed while we were apart. If you want to spend an evening with someone, I understand.”
That had all been true. When he met them, he had been very clear that monogamy wasn’t for him. He had told them that he kept to nature’s way. To roam. To find root and purchase in whatever bed he might find like the dandelion seed on the wind. So why hadn’t he done that?
At first Halsin thought that it was because he was so focused on his new cause. As he also mentioned to them when they met, he could get consumed with something and rarely come up for air. Plus, the children were his top priority. It wouldn’t be fair to have a partner when his full attention couldn’t be on them.
But, the more he thought about it in this moment, Halsin realized that he, for once, simply hadn’t been interested.
In the few moments alone, when his thoughts drifted to desire, he thought of [Y/N] and nothing else. Their face was what he thought of when he took hold of his own needs. Their sweet words. Memories of their body. Now that they were back in the flesh, his eye had wondered even less further. The thought of spending an evening with the willowy Willow didn’t disgust him, but he also didn’t feel desire for it.
Halsin suddenly realized, to his own shock, that he had almost completely shifted from the roaming bear to the wolf. Complete with his own cave, and pack, and mate. He had been…domesticated.
“I…don’t think so.” Halsin finally answered [Y/N]. “At least, not at this time. I would rather stay home with you tonight. If that’s alright?”
[Y/N] smiled at him. Then walked inside with what remained of their tea. “I didn’t come all this way to sit at home alone. Again, not that I would mind for an evening. But, you know.”
Halsin thought he did.
Though he couldn’t say he understood a lot of things going on in the moment, what he did understand is that he wanted to be with [Y/N]. To be only with them for what time they were allowed. To let himself be domesticated.
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flortakuxd · 1 month
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I been thinking this a long time. If there exists a Teen wolf AU, there's no way that Andrew wouldn't be a Hellhound. Just think it a little. (After the "accident" with Tilda, he died there and resurrected like a Hellhound)
Maybe Neil could be a werecoyote because of his nature of runaway.
I think that Kevin will be a human , and Riko wants to convert him when he becomes an alfa (he has that illusion of being The True Alpha bc his father never let him kill someone and convert in an Alpha)
Renee was a Darach, and she reformed and now is a Druid.
Someone do a fanfic, p—.
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tav-marcio-leles · 9 months
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I'll be storing all of my glacio headcanon/info dumps here
post will consistently update
Ship: Gale Dekarios x Marcio Leles (Tav) Ship Name: Glacio Name Origin:
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Headcanons
[1]
Gale will read aloud or info dump to Marcio to help him fall sleep (or if he notices Marcio is having a fit in his sleep). Sometimes, Gale does this without even realizing it, because he sleep talks. It makes Marcio feel safe <3
Reasoning:
Tav has been shown to consistently get little good sleep—if they get any, that is—thanks to bad dreams or restlessness.
Gale canonically talks in his sleep.
[2]
In the chronicles timeline, Gale is around 26. Marcio is 30. The reasonings below were presented when I was doing some Sword Coast research.
Reasoning:
Tw/ implied grooming for this one
Gale was scouted out at 8 by Elminster.
There was a lot of weird timeline stuff regarding when Mystra was reformed—leaving Gale anywhere between 25-35 years old. Some theorize he’s a similar age to Elminster, but Morena is still alive, so I highly doubt it.
Gale mentioned that he was a child prodigy when Mystra. The word revealed was the biggest red flag, and I immediately looked up if Gale was implied to be groomed.
I found this post and it made me disgusted in Mystra forever:
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On a more light-hearted note, I saw a headcanon that looks older than his 20s due to the orb draining his life force. I liked that! So, it's canon in the Tav Marcio Chronicles.
[3] Tieflings sometimes have animal-like behavior due to their devil bloodline. I'll make a guide to how I interpret tielfing tail language in the future.
I mostly associate Marcio with cat behavior thanks to my roommate's comments when I told her tielfings are implied to have no control over their tail movement. Marcio's tail might lift or wag when happy, he purrs or chirps, he has a tendency to curl up when sleeping, etc.
[4] Gale was born a sorcerer.
Reasoning:
His charisma starts off decently high.
Gale says he's been able to do magic for as long as he can remember.
I've seen some compare his fireball at age 8 to a Storm Sorcerer, which checks. He knew how to speak Ignan (Primordial), an ability a Lvl 1 sorcerer gets.
I found this book in the Goblin Camp, Magic of the Weave - An Introduction:
So, this means that Gale probably just prefers to call himself Wizard based off of this standard.
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Mystra says all of his power was taken from him by the Karsite Weave. She also compares the power to a storm right before hand. Interesting...
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Info Dumping
[1]
Tiefling’s tail movement is implied to be involuntary (you aren’t allowed to try and stop moving it when your tail movement scares the wolf in the Druid Grove).
My friend compared it to a cat’s tail movement, and now that’s canon in my mind—tielfings having shared behavior with cats. This includes purring, which I think is fitting for Gale—to fall in love with a Marcio who can purr.
Marcio is also a Mephistopheles Tiefling, meaning he has an affinity to magic. I think it would be funny for that to be a sense of “love at first sight” for Gale, possibly just sensing the magic radiating off of Marcio.
For Marcio, it was just that Clone High meme: “I like your funny works magic man.” 💕
[2]
It’s a little poetic that Marcio is a Mephistopheles tielfing trying to keep Gale away from the Crown’s corruption, and Mephistopheles is the devil that kept the Crown from Raphael.
[3]
I broadcast my gameplay on the living room TV for my roommates to watch. Recently, one of them saw that Marcio carried a little bag of magical items—his reasoning being, “just in case Mystra takes away his ability to control the orb”. My friend said it was Marcio carrying period products for his boyfriend, just in case.
So, trans Gale valid and you might see it from time to time! 🏳️‍⚧️
✨ I've decided that Gale, in the Tav Marcio Chronicles, is cis, though. Marcio, on the other hand, is trans.
[4]
Marcio’s eyes remind Gale of the weave sometimes. They also glow in the dark, which is terrifying to wake up to sometimes.
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probablyfunrpgideas · 16 days
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Spell Idea
Mystical Migration Level 7 Conjuration (Druid) Casting Time: 1 minute Duration: 24 hours
When you cast this spell, you and up to 6 other people discorporate into birds, fish, or insects, which travel away into the wide world. Joining up with others of their kind, they embark on a magical journey to a location you designate on any plane of existence. It must be a place you have some knowledge of - "The bank office of Buzzley Mistblood, on the infernal circle of Dis" is acceptable, but "the home of whoever catnapped my animal companion" doesn't work. While the spell is in effect, your flock, swarm, or school blinks between planes as you travel, and you can journey between planets, planes or demiplanes with no chance of getting lost. When you arrive, you and your friends reform from some of the creatures.
This spell relies on animal instinct and magical navigation. Since it's partly teleporting and part physical movement, you can bypass wards that would normally keep you out, unless these are set by a deity or equivalent power.
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heartthumpnovel · 1 year
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Heart Thump: Fantasy AU Short
The Cursed Prince
Word count: 3968
This is just a short story I wanted to write up in a AU where the gang are in a fairytale setting. Kinda an offshoot of Rapunzel but with G/t instead. May or may not cont. this depending on the reception and motivation. Thought something different to refresh myself for the canon story.
Part 1 (You are here) Part 2
cw: Implied past abuse
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One might assume that being held hostage is not only terrifying but also an exhilarating predicament. In tales of old, damsels in distress yearned for freedom and often found romance with the noble hero who saved them in most derivative literature.
However, Jason's firsthand experience proved quite the opposite.
Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that Jason wasn't kidnapped by a fearsome beast, but rather, he was imprisoned by his own father and the individuals who had pledged their allegiance to the Anderheart royal family since his adolescence. The novelty of being confined in a tower forever gradually lost its appeal over time. Fortunately, those who locked him away occasionally sent servants and mages to inform him what era it was, provided they were brave enough to engage in conversation.
The prince wouldn’t consider himself a hostage, far from it.
In fact, he’s the fearsome beast that needed to be locked up.
It all started with a bit of family trouble back when he was a young boy. Not that he would like to remember much of what happened but, what did happen was his own mother cursing her son before she was executed for being a witch.
What horrible curse was he afflicted with? Falling into a deep slumber to be awoken by a kiss, or turning into a swan at a nonspecific lake?
No, that would be far too graceful for the poor prince. Whenever he felt true love or happiness, he would start to double in size when his heart raced. The second his father found out what happened to him, for the safety of the kingdom and to keep a respectful appearance of the royal family, Jason was locked up in a refurbished prisoner tower which was meant to hold powerfully dangerous wizard prisoners.
It wasn't akin to a dismal prison with meager accommodations and chains, considering Jason was still the prince after all. He occupied two entire floors, and all his possessions from his room in the castle were transported here. His extensive collection of books and plants kept him occupied throughout the years. The tower's walls were even enchanted to withstand his uncontrollable growth, ensuring he wouldn’t accidentally destroy his home. Admittedly, it caused him significant pain when that occurred, but Jason believed he deserved it for allowing himself to become such a monstrosity in the first place. The prince preferred not to view his current residence as a prison but rather as a place of self-reformation and eventual liberation from the curse.
Though things on that front were slow going. All kinds of wizards and bishops had given his humble tower a visit to see if they were the ones that could break Jason’s curse. None of them succeeded by even a little bit. The number of people claiming they could fix him dwindled and Jason could hardly remember the last time a magic user tried to break the curse. It didn’t help either, that no parameters were said on the solution to get rid of Jason’s burden. Thinking about this made his stomach drop and he’d rather not focus on his predicament.
While there hasn't been a recent visit from suppliers from the kingdom, Jason wasn’t completely left to his own devices. It would be idiotic to leave a giant shifter to go mad by loneliness. Years ago around the time Jason turned fifteen, he was given a druid attendant to originally help him cure his ailment. This druid attendant was only a mere apprentice and needed experience for her mage training. Of Course she never did help him with the curse, but she did stay to become his closest ally. She even taught him how to nurture plants and they bonded over book series they both really like.
Strangely enough, Jason couldn’t put a finger on why but she wasn’t disgusted by his curse and actually wanted to be friends. Sure she seemed fearful of him at first, though she ended up going past the whole giant thing pretty quickly.
Oh Ellinor, so sweet yet had an awful taste of companions evidently.
Jason longed for her presence, despite knowing that she would return in a month with supplies to ensure he didn't perish from hunger and would provide him with new books to read. Plus it wasn’t like he could force her to stay just because he really wanted someone to talk to. He’d just find things to do to avoid being needy for attention. Surely, given his expertise in enduring captivity for countless moons, he could find ample activities to keep himself busy.
It was only day three and he was already out of books to sink into.
Loneliness began to eat away at him like moths to a nicely crafted sweater. He could feel the holes in his heart widening and just needed to find something to keep him distracted.
The prince finally rose from his silk sheets from his self reflection and quiet sobs, trying to think of ways a damsel like himself could pre-occupy his time. There were moments when he almost wished he were tormented by a captor, as it would afford him someone to converse with, reminiscent of the stories he had read. Gently dabbing his tears with a handkerchief, he took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself.
“Just a couple of weeks Jason, nothing to get all emotional over.” he whispered to himself as he passed by the solitary window that offered a glimpse of the outside world. Pausing, he leaned out of the stone archway, beholding the tranquil forest that surrounded him. Despite being the sole view he had of the outside, it remained a breathtaking sight regardless of the season. The melodic songs of diverse bird species and the presence of adorable, fluffy rodents never failed to bring a smile to his face. If only the creatures weren't frightened of him, he could approach them closely. Oh, how he yearned to run his fingers through the soft fur of an endearing creature. What he’d also wish he could do was to check out the plant life around him when Ellinor isn’t around to help him pick it. Just after Ellinor left Jason just had to notice a fruitful bounty of lavender had decided to grow underneath a willow tree that was right across from his tower. Jason had read of the calming remedy the herb had and heard that it made for an amazing tea. Having something to help calm him wasn’t only useful in his separation anxiety but may help with keeping from getting taller.
His gaze lingered longingly upon the lavender patch, wondering if it would remain in full bloom by the time Ellinor returned—
Wait, who was that?
Jason hadn't anticipated encountering anything other than the usual lavender flowers nestled beneath the willow's branches, but the sight before him was no mere flower. She possessed a beauty as captivating as the very patch she was avidly plucking from. His extraordinary eyesight allowed him a better glimpse of the woman, who had dark skin and neatly braided hair fashioned into a crown. Her clothes seemed nice, though not too nice to be a high class nobel, but he assumed that was because a dress would be problematic in dense woods like these. Jason couldn’t get a better look at her as she was bent down on her knees to hog all of the sweet smelling lavender.
Normally, it would be ill-advised for the prince to engage with passersby outside his tower. More often than not, they were lost bandits or adventurers mistaking him for a trapped princess. Each encounter ended with Ellinor either chasing them away or their retreat in terror upon discovering Jason's true identity. Fools, all of them.
However, this time, Jason realized his precious herbs were at stake, and lavender was not commonly found in the area. The audacity of this beautiful intruder to take what was clearly near his tower, and to claim one of the few things that could have kept him grounded and normal… no, she had to go.
“HEY- YOU THERE. TRESPASSER!” Jason yelled out as he poked his head outside his stone window and held onto the balcony fence. The woman startled as she looked where the yelling was coming from. “YEAH YOU! MISS!”
The woman stood up from her business and the prince could finally see her face. Her skin was definitely glowing and well taken care of so she couldn’t have been a dirty bandit type he usually saw. Perhaps a traveling noble merchant or a mage? Could be a magic user as he noticed how enchanting her eyes were. Wait- Focus Jason!
Just because this flower thief was pretty didn’t mean she had the right to take his precious herbs. Though perhaps he shouldn’t scare the daylights out of her and just tell her to get lost.
As the woman pointed to herself and gave a puppy dog head tilt, Jason went on shouting from his window. “Those lavender flowers are already claimed!” Jason spoke, trying his best to seem authoritative though it was pretty lacking, “and this is private property you’re standing in!”
The woman looked back at the lavender patch silently and then did a double take at the tower. Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, instead of leaving his yard, the lady decided the best idea was to walk even closer to the tower. Jason cringed and before he could tell her to back off, the woman cuffed her hands around her mouth and started to yell back.
“I don’t see a garden fence around here!” Shouted the beautiful stranger, “Also no offense, it looked like nobody lived in your dinky tower in centuries! How was I supposed to know!?”
Dinky?! Really? A three story tower is dinky to her? Jason’s fingers gripped on the stone window sill. "Well now you know don't you?!" Shouted back the whiny prince, "so why don't you leave my 'dinky tower' alone?"
Instead of just leaving like he asked, she stood there analyzing the scene before her. "You locked up here or something? Need help out of there?" She responded with a tinge of worry in her voice. Jason only rolled his eyes as he found himself again in this bothersome situation.
"You're not one of those Albion graduate heroes are you?" Jason spoke with his arms crossed, "No I'm perfectly fine thank you very much."
Her worried expression turned into a skeptical one as she still didn't make herself scarce.
"Oh really?" She retorted back with her hands on her hips, "Why don't you come down here to get the damn flowers yourself?"
Jason’s cheeks turned a tomato shade of red as his resolve began to crumble. He sputtered out his explanation.
"I-i can't…" Jason admitted, "I can not leave the tower but, I can assure you I'm perfectly fine."
That beautifully annoying woman smirked before she responded, walking over the tiny bridge that was over a stream, "You're literally in the middle of nowhere trapped in a prisoner tower. That doesn't look fine to me."
Oh by the gods, she's gotten so close to the structure that if Jason were to jump out of the window he'd probably land on her. He didn't need her that close.
"Look who ever you are- it's none of your business and I implore you to move on!" Jason tried to appeal to her, "you won't like what you see here I assure you."
The woman's response to that vague warning was to pat the sword handle at her side with a grin. Jason’s palms started to sweat, knowing she could bolt by the sight of his curse.
"What's keeping you here? Ransom? Dragon? Evil wizard? Your hair?" Natasha asked, her eyes looking at the tower to see where the door was.
Well, it seemed like he had to tell her the truth that nobody wanted to hear. That he was indeed the cursed prince of the Anderheart family. Jason leaned over the edge trying to be as stern as a lanky man could be.
He pointed to himself.
"I am, " Jason said, "I have a curse where I grow into a giant monster and I am kept here to keep the world safe."
That should have done it. Once people found out who he was they would either aim their arrows or run.
So why did she just stand there?
She stared up at the prince with an unreadable look on her face before she started to snicker. She put her hand over her mouth attempting to not break out into laughter. Right as Jason was going to ask what was so funny about his predicament, she answered with giggles.
"Seriously!?" Natasha spoke, "with a cute face like that?!"
Th-thump
Oh no.
Jason felt butterflies lunge in his stomach and that dreaded feeling of glee appeared. It was already too late as he felt the growth spurt suddenly making him several feet taller.
He also felt the stone window frame smack the top of his head.
“ACK!!” Jason yelped as his sudden growth caused him to smack the top of his head, he bent over for a moment to rub the bruise, “Ugh bloody hell that stings- I ugh, told you!” Thankfully he didn’t manage to fall out of the window, though he did also realize he wasn’t hearing screaming either. Jason’s eyebrows furrowed as he bent down to look outside the window once more wondering why he didn’t hear a reaction.
She was still standing there.
The woman stood there, eyes widened and definitely looked like she was completely caught off guard. Though she definitely wasn’t reaching for her sword as her arms remained crossed. The shock on her face slowly formed into a confused gaze.
“That’s it?” She spoke.
"What do you mean, 'that's it'!?" Jason exclaimed, his voice inadvertently louder, but he no longer cared. "I'm a bloody monster! You shouldn't be lingering around!" Was he actually feeling a twinge of offense that she didn't appear scared of him? It seemed that the years of isolation had truly taken a toll on the prince.
“I mean yeah you’re a little bit taller but like-” she said, gesturing with her arms, "but this? It doesn't scream 'monster' to me." A warm smile graced the woman's face, indicating she wasn't bluffing, although perhaps she lacked awareness of the potential danger. The 7-foot-tall prince cleared his throat, closing his eyes and crossing his arms in annoyance.
“I could be hundreds of men tall if it weren’t for this tower keeping me in check, you should be afraid. ” Jason coldly explained, truly unsure of this situation and the unknown was clearly making him uncomfortable.
“I mean-” Oh bother, she’s speaking again, “I’ve always had a thing for tall guys.”
Before he could react, his body swelled uncontrollably, leaving him scrambling to retreat into his room to avoid getting his head stuck in the window. His desk and bookshelves toppled over as his legs pushed them aside. Jason's back and head collided with the cold stone walls on the other side of the room. Struggling to catch his breath, he felt his face burning red and realized that his room now felt more like a cramped crate. Grumbling, he blew his bangs out of his face, wondering what he had done to deserve this. The nerve of this intruder!
“Hey you alright in there!?” That sweet little voice yelled.
Taking a deep breath was all the prince could do, as he needed to keep his temper in check. Even if the lady made him lose control, it wasn’t like she was trying to cause harm. A royal like him needs to be gentle and stern when asking for things. Especially if he was big enough to cause harm and he really didn’t want to scare people. Pulling himself forward, Jason mumbled a confirmation that he was fine. He then reached his arm out the window, which was as long as a horse, and pointed towards the willow tree.
“Look miss,” Jason said, “Just leave me be please, you can take the lavender if you want.”
There was silence. A very long one.
Jason pulled his arm back inside and curled up upon the cool prison wall. His fingers gripping opposite elbows as he held back tears. Thinking the situation over in his mind and feeling a deep pit in his stomach.
“Oh you gigantic moron…” Jason murmured to himself, “She just wanted to help and you had to go be a rude brute..” He curled into himself as he became a big sobbing mass in his itty bitty tower. The walls have never felt this closed in since the days where he was first thrown in there. Memories of him being chained up for the first few weeks came to mind and being left to starve as the servants who used to keep him alive were too scared to approach his door. He hadn't talked to anyone those desolate weeks and had to beg to convince his father that he wasn’t meaning to be dangerous. That he hated what he’d become and wanted more than anything to be fixed.
Jason grimaced and fiddled with the gem on his crown. Surely a cure was going to come around soon and he could step outside this tower without fear. At this point Jason didn’t even care about being a ruler or whatever. He just didn’t want to be alone.
Clank
Jason’s head rose and graced the ceiling, hearing a noise coming from the window that sounded like metal scraping rock. Hanging there over the window sill was a hook that had a rope tied on it. Was she planning on coming up here to slay him for being rude!?
“Hey buddy could you do me a favor and loop that rope through an anchor?” Her voice yelled up casually, “I’m sending a basket up.”
Wait what?
More confusion came to Jason, he wondered why in the world this person wanted to give him something after he yelled at her to leave. The prince crawled forward and desperately patted the ceiling as he searched for that rope hook he used to use during the first few years of his banishment. He hadn't found a need for it lately as Ellinor wasn’t scared coming into the tower. One of his giant fingers brushed against cold metal and he gave it a tug. Dust exploded from the anchor and unfortunately Jason inhaled a lot of it. He coughed harshly and waved a hand around to try to fan the dust outside the window.
The very kind person asked if he was okay and the giant tried to assure her that he’s just fine. Jason fed the rope through the hoop of the anchor and held onto the other end on the rope with one hand. The rope jostled a bit as pressure was added to the other end outside. It wasn’t heavy at all though there was indeed something tied to the other end. Just then there were two brief tugs to the rope and Jason took that as a signal to pull it up.
While it wouldn’t take much effort to pull it up strength wise, he was very slow and methodical with pulling up the basket. He wouldn’t want to accidentally jostle out the mystery contents in the basket. His eyes brightened in surprise when he managed to spot the basket on the other end and nearly dropped it.
It was a small bouquet of lavender.
The smell was just as wonderful as he thought it would be and they looked beautiful up close. His heart began to race once more as he felt his body push the limit of the tower’s allowance. Though he didn’t care about his desk being completely pushed into the wall or that he was completely cramped in his tiny room. Someone gave him a wonderful gift and it brought a huge grin on his face for the first time in a while.
While he wished he would go face her once more to properly say thank you, his head was just a bit too large to fit through the window, so instead he pushed an arm through the window. His index finger and thumb crossed over to the delight of the stranger.
“Uhm- thank you very much Miss… could I please get your name?” Jason asked with him trying to not sound like was crying.
The new friend spoke cheerfully, “Natasha Maryrose, I come from the Solaris Republic not far from here. Could I get yours as well?”
The Solaris Republic? He remembered that that democratic empire had a tense yet amicable relationship with the kingdom he was born to rule in. It seemed their borders were much closer than he initially thought.
“Prince Anderheart,” Said the prince, “Though you can call me Jason, if that's a bit too formal.”
“Oh so you are the cursed prince! Huh..” Natahsa scratched her grin, “Wow the tales about you are seriously bunk.”
“Wh-what tales!?” The giant arm flinched a little, “There’s tales about me!?”
“Heh, I’d say they’re more like rumors or stories that mothers tell their young kids to make them behave.” Natasha confessed as she leaned on the tower’s wall, “I wouldn’t give it too much thought, it’s not like you actually have claws and bake men’s bones into bread. ”
“Oh by the gods…” Jason responded as his arm went limp on the window’s edge, causing a giggle to come from below, “I hardly even speak to those that come around here…”
“I’m special then?” Natasha retorted as she noticed the fingers of the arms twitch, “I could try to help clear your name out here if you want.”
“Oh no no no, “ The arm crawled back into the window as if a snake was finding shelter in its den, “I would appreciate it if you kept me a secret for now, I honestly don’t want people knowing where I am when I’m stuck like this…”
“Yeah, that’s understandable,” Natasha responded, “Then your secret is safe with me ya little bone muncher!”
A laugh bellowed from within the tower, it was dainty yet shook the stone walls. Not enough to break them but, one would have thought a keg explosive went off in there.
Perhaps, a kind of emotional keg exploded there that day.
Jason whipped his tears with his other arm and smiled, having the outside arm give a thumbs up before gently grasping the window. Tapping his fingers on the sill as he took a large breath.
“Oh man alive…” Jason spoke, “Could I make another bold request if it’s not too much to ask?”
“Shoot.”
“Could you… pay me a visit sometimes? If-if you want that is. I know we just met and everything but, I-I think you’re really interesting and it gets quite lonely-”
“I’d love to.”
The arm froze in surprise, then melted back onto the window as it hung very low along the tower’s aging stone walls.
“Th-thanks, and I’m very, very sorry for the way I’ve treated you,” Jason began to apologize, “You were just trying to be nice and here I was yelling at you for it- Eh?!”
In the middle of his apology, he didn’t realize that his arm could reach so far down that it was just barely enough for someone to reach their hand out to touch the tip of his middle finger. He felt a silk-soft hand pat his finger, which initially flinched at the touch but let itself be petted. Jason couldn’t make out what Natasha was mumbling about, but, deep down he knew it must have been kind.
Finally, the dreaded cursed prince of the Atlas kingdom and Anderheart monarchy, had made another friend.
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thecreaturecodex · 1 year
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Sahkil Tormentor, The Vermilion Mother
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"RedQueen v.2" © ArtStation user Dalisa Art, accessed at their page here
[Sponsored by @alquitranofmystara. The Vermilion Mother is not the first sahkil tormentor I've written, but she is the first canon one. I've seeded this entry with a lot of references to my original works. The name I give as her true name, Mystricia, is the genus name for the nutmeg tree, which is potently toxic and hallucinogenic.]
Sahkil Tormentor, the Vermillion Mother CR 25 NE Outsider (extraplanar) This creature appears to be a horrifying combination of crone and carnivorous plant the size of a small tree. Her face is contorted into a horrible rictus and her skeletal wooden limbs end in terrible claws. Her hair is a sea of fronds, each one of which ends in a red bud that opens to reveal a fanged mouth.
Vermilion Mother Bloody Blossom, Mystricia, The Red Weed Concerns fecundity, overgrowth, psychoactive plants Domains Charm, Evil, Plant, Weather Subdomains Decay, Fear, Growth, Lust Worshipers drug addicts, evil druids, sarmaks Minions beldams, plant monsters, sahkils (especially pakalchis and qoloks) Unholy Symbol a hand covered in creeping red tendrils Obedience Ingest a toxic plant, or sow the seeds of a toxic plant in a place intended to be safe. Gain a +4 profane bonus on Fortitude and Will saving throws against effects from plants or plant creatures. Boons 1: sickening entanglement 2/day; 2: curse terrain 2/day; 3: green caress 2/day
The Vermilion Mother is the sahkil tormentor that represents the fear that animals have of losing control to plants. Everything to an annoying weed making a noble’s lawn ugly to that same noble getting addicted to opium and running their province into the ground is under her jurisdiction. As such, her cult has an unusual makeup. Many of her followers are druids who wish to use plants to overrun and destroy unnatural edifices. Others are hedonists seeking out new and unusual highs, who often become junkies that pray to her to make their trips longer and their side effects less severe. Perhaps the strangest of her worshipers are a cult of sarmaks, which consider one of the plants native to their planet, the ground-creeping red weed, as a physical embodiment of the Vermilion Mother’s influence.
The Vermilion Mother enjoys making combats with her drawn out and painful. Whenever she chooses, she is surrounded by an aura of grasping, hindering vegetation that she can move effortlessly through, and often isolates foes further with quickened walls of thorns. Her gaze causes a profound ennui, and creatures who see her often simply give up and let her tear them limb from limb. Her breath is a potent hallucinogen, and those affected have strange and terrifying hallucinations before they fall into a coma, their perceptions locked completely within their own body. Her claws break off and reform in the flesh of her victims, creating runners of razor-sharp vines that erupt into bonethorns once they have stripped away enough muscle and other tissue.
The Vermilion Mother’s true name is Mystricia, which is a closely guarded secret known only to her closest allies. The Vermilion Mother is the eldest of a trio of allied neutral evil demigods which act as something between a witches’ coven and a family. The other two are the daemonic harbinger Decied and the green (wo)man Briarpatch, both of whom also delight in ecological devastation and the introduction of new and strange lifeforms to an area. Although the Vermilion Mother is oldest, she is not the most powerful, but her advice and experience are respected by both of her fellows. She and Mahathallah have similar purviews and a cordial, but distant relationship.
The Vermilion Mother       CR 25 XP 1,640,000 NE Huge outsider (evil, extraplanar, sahkil) Init +12; Senses darkvision 60 ft., greensight, Perception +42, tremorsense 120 ft. Aura overgrowth (100 ft.), unholy (DC 28)
Defense AC 43, touch (-2 size, +1 dodge, +8 Dex, +22 natural, +4 deflection) hp 565 (29d10+406); fast healing 15 Fort +27, Ref +28, Will +30; +4 vs. mind-influencing effects, paralysis, polymorph, sleep, stunning DR 20/epic and good; Immune charm, compulsion, death effects, disease, fear, poison; Resist cold 30, electricity 30, sonic 30; SR 41 Defensive Abilities floronic, freedom of movement
Offense Speed 50 ft., climb 30 ft. Melee 2 claws +42 (2d6+15/19-20 plus grab and implant), 4 bites +42 (1d6+15/19-20 plus bleed) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks bleed (1d6),breath weapon, look of fear, rend (2 claws, 2d6+22), spirit touch Spell-like Abilities CL 25th, concentration +35 Constant—freedom of movement, unholy aura (self only) At will—blasphemy (DC 27), charm monster (DC 24), confusion (DC 24), control plants (DC 28), fear (DC 26), greater teleport (self plus 50 lbs only), nightmare (DC 27) 3/day—green caress (DC 27), empowered horrid wilting (DC 28), mind fog (DC 25), serenity (DC 28), quickened waves of fatigue, quickened wall of thorns 1/day—control weather, dominate monster (DC 29), overwhelming presence (DC 31), rival’s weald (DC 29), summon sahkil (any of CR 20 or lower, 100%), weird (DC 31)
Statistics Str 40, Dex 27, Con 38, Int 25, Wis30, Cha 31 Base Atk +29; CMB +46 (+50 grapple); CMD 69 Feats Blind-fight,Combat Reflexes, Critical Focus, Dodge, Empower SLA (horrid wilting), Improved Critical (bite, claw), Improved Initiative, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (waves of fatigue, wall of thorns), Staggering Critical, Stand Still, Step Up, Stunning Critical Skills Bluff +42, Climb +38, Heal +42, Intimidate +42, Knowledge (arcana, geography, religion) +36, Knowledge (nature, planes) +39, Perception +42, Sense Motive +42, Stealth +32 (+40 in wooded areas), Survival +42, Swim +31; Racial Modifiers +8 Stealth in wooded areas Languages Abyssal, Celestial, Common, Druidic, Infernal, speak with plants, Sylvan, telepathy 300 ft. SQ easy to call, emotional focus, freeze (as tree), sahkil tormentor traits, skip between
Ecology Environment any land (Ethereal Plane) Treasure double standard Organization unique
Special Abilities Bleed (Ex) Bleed damage from the Vermilion Mother’s bites stacks with itself. On a critical hit, the bleed becomes 1 point of Constitution bleed instead. Breath Weapon (Ex) The Vermilion Mother can breathe a 60 foot cone of toxic powder once every 1d4 rounds. Creatures caught in the area are exposed to the following poison: Vermilion Powder—contact; save Fort DC 38; duration 1/round for 4 rounds; effect 1d8 Wisdom damage; cure 1 save. A creature that is suffering ability damage from vermilion powder hallucinates and babbles. It treats all creatures it can see as having concealment, and has a 20% chance to fail to speak correctly, including command words and spell components. The save DC is Constitution based. Floronic (Ex) The Vermilion Mother gains a +4 racial bonus on saving throws against mind-influencing effects, paralysis, polymorph, sleep and stunning effects. Implant (Su) Each time the Vermilion Mother deals damage with its claw attacks, its victim must attempt a DC 38 Fortitude save to avoid becoming infested by its seeds. If the victim fails, the seeds sprout into vines that swiftly propagate through its body, erupting from wounds and ripping through undamaged flesh, dealing 2d12 points of slashing damage per round at the start of the infected creature’s turn. An implanted creature can remove the vines with any spell or effect that cures disease, and the vines die if the host takes 20 or more points of fire damage in a single attack. A creature that has a skeleton and that dies while implanted is consumed over the course of 2d6 rounds, after which a new fiendish bonethorn under the Vermllion Mother’s control rises from the remains. A new bonethorn created in this manner from a Large or larger body can animate only a Medium-sized portion of the skeleton, resulting in strange, partially skeletal hosts that have similar statistics to a bonethorn grown from a humanoid host. Burning or otherwise completely destroying the victim’s body before the spores complete their consumption prevents it from becoming a new bonethorn. This is a disease effect. The save DC is Constitution-based. Look of Fear (Su) 30 ft.; Will DC 36, shaken 1 hour. A creature that succumbs to the Vermilion Mother’s look of fear is filled with ennui and cannot take actions. It can make a DC 36 Will save each round to remove the ennui effect, but is still shaken if it succeeds this save. The save DC is Charisma based and includes a +2 racial bonus for the Vermilion Mother’s emotional focus. Overgrowth Aura (Su) The Vermilion Mother is surrounded by a dense network of magical vegetation in a 100 foot radius. This functions as the overgrowth effect of the plant growth spell, except that it moves with the Vermilion Mother. Creatures with the plant type and sahkils can move through this foliage normally. The Vermilion Mother can suppress or resume this aura as a swift action. Sahkil Tormentor Traits (Ex/Su) The Vermilion Mother is a powerful unique sahkil. She gains access to the following abilities
Immunity to charm and compulsion effects, death effects, disease, fear effects and poison
Resist cold 30, electricity 30 and sonic 30
Telepathy 300 ft.
The Vermilion Mother’s natural weapons, as well as any weapons she wields, are treated as epic and evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction
Once per day, the Vermilion Mother can summon any sahkil of CR 20 or lower with 100% chance of success
The Vermilion Mother can grant spells, as listed in her divine information
Speak With Plants (Su) The Vermilion Mother can speak with plants, as per the spell, at will as a supernatural ability.
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minnesotadruids · 8 months
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Good afternoon, C.O.R.D. Biquarterly druidry newsletter readers!
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whispering-depths · 6 months
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finished this portrait series of my shadow monk, Juno, illustrating their journey from Chosen of Bhaal to reformed bhaalspawn~
I am nearing the end of their playthrough, having just fought Orin and getting ready for an ill-advised alliance with an ex. the 1v1 duel with Orin was literally SO EASY as a monk, I cast hold monster on her in the first round of combat and then just punched her to death in two turns before she could take a single action. my last durge was a druid, and I struggled with the Orin duel on that playthrough, only actually winning because her AI glitched out and she kept skipping her actions (oops)
JUNO BEFORE THE TADPOLE
the top image shows two versions of Juno before the tadpole, first dressed up in their best cult leader ritual night finery and then in full assassin mode, stalking the shadows like a ghost. I really liked the way the face mask covers the lower half of their face, so that their identity is entirely hidden except for those piercing, bottomless black eyes. they were a devastatingly effective assassin, a zealous temple leader, and all-around a little freaky and unnerving, but they were also known for their dark humor, a blunt but soft-spoken thoughtfulness and, at times, a kindness and mercy that was most unbecoming of a Bhaal's chosen.
JUNO AFTER THE TADPOLE
on the bottom, we have Juno as they appear during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. just off the nautiloid, we see them looking disheveled and tired, like a sopping wet cat—sporting a choppy haircut courtesy of their once beloved sister Orin and new scars courtesy of Kressa Bonedaughter. they had no idea who they are aside from a name and an urge, and had near constant headaches, night terrors, panic attacks, and withdrawal-like symptoms that would only go away after killing. Act 1 was a pretty rough time of unhealthy coping mechanisms, trying to deal with the amnesia and the urges through drinking and sex, but all the while trying to do right by the people around them.
all through Act 2, they’re picking up the pieces of themself, bonding more deeply with Astarion, Shadowheart, and Halsin, and learning more about the wretched past they had forgotten. nearly losing Astarion to their urges terrifies them, and they try to distance themself from him, but it ultimately only brings them closer. seeing Shadowheart reject her goddess of her own will was another pivotal moment in their journey.
in Act 3, they decide to chop off the rest of their hair after the bhaalspawn revelation in Rivington led them to distance themself from their past and heritage once and for all--this is a new beginning for them. Jaheira (and by extension, Minsc) become important figures in Juno's life, Jaheira as mentor and confidante and Minsc as moral support. at the end, Astarion has rejected the ritual, Juno has rejected their father's blood, and they're well on their way to a new beginning, together.
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Hey Romeo, how are you doing?
I was thinking about Olleander lately. How does he feel towards the Blight? I mean, he is a Blight Druid like Katya, but I've noticed they have different views about the same thing. Can you elaborate, please? :3
hi min!! yes ollie is a very different kind of blight druid haha. there’s this part of the class description that puts it very well i think
“While some are devoted to reforming and reclaiming lands despoiled by the ravages of civilization, others seek out the more rapacious violence inherent in nature and feed the creeping rot and decay that brings an end to all things.”
so ollie is definitely the latter. i always imagine him as sort of. the apple bringing sin to mankind. a fruit so sweet and yet so rotten. his primary goal in life is to get people to indulge in their worst urges/evil/the “rot” inside of them. everything that is alive has the potential to rot eventually, and he’s only bringing it out faster. so basically—to him rot and The Blight in general is something he worships, if that makes sense.
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loversandantiheroes · 3 months
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I done did it. Brain is fought, game is over. The epilogue was very sweet and got me all teary. I gave Halsin an owlbear, he gave me a wooden duck. I am immensely charmed with the line you could give Jaheira: "I have many homes, one is a treehouse." Just, yes, hello this is my reformed Durge and her husbands, a foppish vampire and the dadliest druid that has ever lived.
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kyuusei-shadowleaf · 1 year
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Because almost every night elf focused discord I'm in suddenly has people talking about the Druid of the Flame (current, former, reformed, evil, not-really-evil) OC they're planning for 10.2...
(And maybe I shouldn't be quite so snarky since Kyuusei also has ties to the Druids of the Flame - but I've been alluding to that for four years now...)
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