#she saved who died in shadowlands

[dumb-byesexual]

a work in progress of my custom dark urge she’s a mephistopheles tiefling who’s a (white/ice) draconian sorcerer

[superanonymousthethird]

I was thinking of Sylvanas and her narrative and I remembered that scene in War Crimes where she breaks down and thinks how foolish it was of her to believe she can love and how her pain from trying to feel that was a warning that in the end she "[...] would be left alone. Again, and always"

And I thought when reading that, well that's terrible, surely something good will happen to her right? Surely something good happens and makes her feel that trusting and loving and hoping aren't mistakes and wanting them doesn't make her weak and being undead doesn't change how worthy she is of them!..

And then BtS and BfA and Shadowlands come and Sylvanas is turned into a complete monster, rejected by Alleria, gets her connection with Forsaken severed as well, gets used and deceived by the guy responsible for the Lich King (whom she still trusted because thought them similar), has her only romantic interest killed, gets called a monster by a pre-trauma version of *herself*, and then sent to atone in the Maw, being alone (without any humanoid capable of speech) in there for what's been at least 5 years. Like what the fuck :/

I also love how like books have stuff like Sylvanas hearing her friends calling her monster (when she was just freed from Arthas) or Vereesa saying she's not her beloved sister.

And Sylvanas thinks "perhaps they're right" and "I am... and I am not" and absolutely nothing fucking happens to tell her that they're not right and it's not okay to think that, no, quite the opposite, she's just "evolved" into becoming people she hated most: mostly Arthas, plus with a Garrosh-like plot in BfA :/

Speaking of her own perception of herself, in the book after the ambush on Arthas she has these doubts: "She was still Sylvanas. Wasn't she?"

It makes me ultra sad because while in Edge of Night we get stuff like her concluding "no she was the same, in death as in life", but the way BfA went, it led to "I believe Sylvanas Windrunner is well and truly lost" and the added Shadowlands soul shard thing went into "I died trying to stop that monster only to wake up haunted by the one with my face"...

That makes the answer for the question of "she was still Sylvanas, wasn't she?" be "nope you're not, Arthas made you into a monster and you're doomed to grow into his own image".

It makes Lor'themar going "She is gone and truth be told I am glad for it. Let's remember her as she was, that was *our* Sylvanas not the monster wearing her face" right, it makes Vereesa's "You're not she who was my beloved sister" be correct, it makes Alleria's "You're a twisted mockery of my sister" correct and I *hate that*, because all that bullshit came *before* Teldrassil, but after Teldrassil her haters can now go "See they were right she was always evil :) real Sylvanas was killed by Arthas", and in universe characters also cannot be blamed because ew why should they treat such a monster better?

And then it's Sylvanas who needs to apologize and atone and seek amends and feel regrets but nothing is required of her family and friends from high elf days.

Ah, in the same theme, I also love the book having a moment of her thinking:

Do we get something about her still being herself and others having no right to treat her the way they did and... ah ye of course not it's completely true Banshee Queen is something separate and evil and here, have the Ranger General put back in, because clearly Arthas' actions mutilated her so thoroughly there was no trace of her old seft left to be saved, and OF COURSE, only after *that* do her ex friends and family express a feeling of "Aw I'd wish to spend more time with her it's the first time I see Sylvanas may be back"

The way her sisters are written I wonder if they even love Sylvanas at all.

They seem to only like that idealized version of her when she was alive that they remember. Why would they wish to speak to that MONSTER that replaced her in undeath?

Ask her how it feels to be undead? What exactly happened in Quel'thalas and how it felt to be under Arthas? Ask why did she join the Horde? Ask how she came to lead the Forsaken? Ask what she did after Arthas died? Ooof no that would be so tough to say, that would be a SAD talk, they'll have to listen to this horrible nasty angry banshee trauma dumping on them, and they just want their sweet noble SISTER back, who doesn't have such burdens :) How good it is the magic soul shit fulfilled their wish :)

Also bruh what does that even mean for Sylvanas herself?

What the fuck was she supposed to do to make them see her as their sister BEFORE the soul mending shit???

Somehow turn off her red eye glow? Stop being angry? (aka calm down and not feel a burning hatred for being brutalized by a manchild of a knight, rejected by everyone and failing to take revenge on him :/).

Kneel before them and say she's a horrible elf being and deserves everything bad happening to her?.. (Their reunions happened before Teldrassil, where most of her crimes were out of a desperate desire to survive in a hostile world)

Forget her silly trauma and simply behave like she did pre death? (Easier said than done)

These bitches did nothing to help Sylvanas heal and now that she's magically restored (and I don't even think it's even healed, she's just now plagued with guilt about doing everything she did), they do wanna talk to her. Yay.

Hm maybe The War Within has it better? Alright-

"Lost my sister to myself" Jesus fuck.

That's what you have to say about your sister who got murdered, raised, tortured, enslaved, forced to participate in the genocide of your species, then rejected by friends, family and Alliance?

Yeah the fact she killed herself after being denied closure against her abuser and after being sent to suffer in hell fell under the influence of a guy who said he understands her and they're similar and showed her that even afterlives aren't fair is TOTALLY just on her!

Yep totally just Sylvanas losing herself to herself and not the fact none of you assholes extended a hand and tried to ask her how she felt at any point of her miserable unlife.

[cat-mermaid]

@modeus-the-unbound made this great post:

They put into words something that has sat in my brain but I didn't know how to address it, so now I do:

THIS

YES

THIS DAMMIT

Even after Miq sheds off all of his parts, and even after using Mohg to further his goals, I’ve still always thought that the Miquella we see at the end of the game is the best damn leader the Lands Between/Shadow Lands could have even gotten

I’M EVEN COOL WITH MIQUELLA TRYING TO STEAL MY CHARACTER’S HEART AND HAVE ME JOIN HIM, THAT SOUNDS DOPE AS FUCK

“Divinity is a cage!” who is caging him if the GW is gone? What is this cage? Why is it bad? Why is it so bad that it would be better for him to be dead then continue on as a god who wants to save us all from the consequences of his mom’s actions?

“Becoming a god means he’ll be beyond saving and forgiveness!” FROM WHAT TRINA, FROM WHAT. If she would to elaborate just a little more, saying something like what Gandalf said in LOTR about the one ring, how though he himself would try using it for good, it would end up corrupting him and make him a monster?

If Trina had just said a little something along the lines of-

EVEN THE MOST NOBLE SELFLESS SOULS WILL BECOME CRUEL AND UNYIELDING UPON GAINING THE MANTEL OF GODHOOD. MIQUELLA WILL BECOME A MONSTER GREATER THAN THOU CAN IMAGINE

-OR WHATEVER THEN I MIGHT BE DOWN TO PUT MIQUELLA DOWN LIKE OL YELLER

in past fromsoft games, I’ve always accepted the vagueness of the plot and the lack of answers, because at no point in demon/darksouls/bloodborne does anyone ask the question “how did this happen” everyone is just living in the moment and you are just plopped into and given a goal, your character and the characters around you aren’t trying to solve anything, just to obtain somthing

but the thing is that in Elden Ring, we are given way more plot and character backstory about NPCs(specifically Marika and the Demigods) then the past games, and thus we’ve become way more invested in them then characters like Gehrman, Lady Maria, Annalise, Micolash or Eileen the Crow

we the player haven gotten so much lore about the Demi gods, especially Miquella, that care about their destinies, their goals and their success/failure.

You think I cared about anyone in Dark Souls 3? Not really because we don't get any really deep interactions with many of its denizens. ALSO that world was pretty doomed, no real saving it.

You think I cared about anyone in Bloodborne? Kinda but most of them died right away and ALSO That world was SO doomed unless you became an infant great one.

In Elden Ring we’re told Miquella is the equivalent to Jesus/Buddha, and that he has the potential to mend this world, set it right and make it a better place for everyone. We’re disappointed when we see that he’s just ended up in a cocoon in the end, withered up and old because Mohg seemly fucked up his attempt to fix his body and ruined the haligtree plan

But when we the player find out that in the dlc Miquella is actually fine and wandering the Shadowlands, trying to get the to gates of divinity and ascend so he can right his mom’s wrongs? HOLY SHIT YES!

Previous fromsoft games have never done this kind of thing, usually every character meets their tragic end and thats it! No hope, no second chances.

So thats why I think it hurt the fanbase so much to go through that emotional roller coaster only to be told at the end oh lol you have to kill him now its for his own good yeah the sleepy gal said so

All it leaves is a sense of bafflement, bitterness and disappointment. Being a Fromsoft game, maybe thats wat they were going for

(what am I saying its Fromsoft, of course thats wat they were going for lol)

[cammyyyydekarios]

Wasteland Baby,

I’m in Love with You

A Gale x f!Dark Urge fanfiction

Warning: 18+ readers only. Full tags on AO3

‼️spoilers for act 2 dark urge path‼️

Summary: Gale has a confession and Lilith is struggling with many complicated feelings.

Read on AO3 or under the cut

It was a cheerful night at the Last Light Inn - or, rather, as cheerful as the night could be in the shadowlands. The path to Moonrise Towers was grueling and dread still lingers on the edges of minds, especially Lilith’s.

The half-drow, half lost to her thoughts is nestled in the corner of the bar, drink in hand. Her urges have been harder to control - especially after seeing Isobel, her supposed ‘target’. After the initial shock and fear and murderous rage crossed her mind she had to defend the Selune cleric fiercely and suddenly. How the urges begged her to rip her throat out, to watch the blood gush from her wound while the life left her eyes. Instead, she settled for stabbing Fist Marcus until her wrist cramped, covered in his sticky blood and only half satisfied.

She disgusted herself. Worse, she terrified herself. She hated herself. She convinced herself the world would be better if she didn’t exist - that it would be easier if she was dead, and her urges along with her. But she lives - and knows she is needed in the fight against the Absolute. She needed to save her friends from becoming mindflayers. It was the least she could do, to right her ever growing list of wrongs.

So yes, tonight she broods in the corner of the bar, getting drunk on cheap wine and watching everyone around her celebrate. Seemed a fitting end of the night for her.

Her companions were all drinking and making merry. Perhaps too much merry, as Shadowheart looked as if she had too much to drink grasping onto Lae’zel’s shoulder for support. The gith scolds her and leads the cleric to the bedrooms of the inn. Wyll, Karlach and even Astarion are taking delight in watching Volo perform.

Lilith sighs and decides she’s had enough of the festivities for tonight. She begrudgingly lifts her hips from the stool and the frayed hem of her trousers catch on the chair, sending her stumbling forward. She braces herself for a fall, but is surprised by the feeling of strong hands on her hips holding her in place.

Her head tilts up, making eye contact with her mystery savior. A bratty quip about ‘keeping your hands to yourself’ dies on her lips when she meets warm brown eyes.

“Gale.” She breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

The wizard silences her with a smile. “It’s quite alright, Lilith. I was actually hoping to catch you before you retired to bed tonight.”

His hands were removed from her hips now. The heat of his touch lingered, rousing something deep in her gut.

She swallows nervously. “Here, or…?”

“I was actually wondering if you’d care to join me outside?” Gale asks, his tone giving way to his anxiety.

It would be better for her to keep her distance from the wizard - she knows she is dangerous. Anyone who gets close to her is in grave danger. She didn’t know consequences were in store for her now that she refused to kill Isobel after her butler’s order.

But Gale is Gale - kind, smart, handsome. Deserving of happiness. And for whatever reason, he desires her.

He’d expressed as much just mere hours earlier.

Then, her hair was wild, bloodied. The white strands were haphazardly pulled up and stained red. Her body shook with adrenaline from the battle with the shadow creatures. She was wiping blood from her face when Gale had approached her. She smiled as he appeared in front of her, but stood stock still when she saw the expression burning in his eyes. They were dilated, heavy lidded, wanting, even. He’d approached her, pressing his palm hard against her hip, making her gasp. The filthy words he whispered in her ear made her melt into his grasp like putty. He’d said she never more beautiful than in the heat of battle. He’d admitted his own desire and she could feel his growing arousal as he pressed himself against her.

As quickly as it happened, he’d pulled himself away, but not before his eyes lingered on her lips. The memory of their shared scene in the weave with his lips on hers played back in her head and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him in that moment. Until Astarion had approached with a mirthful grin, dangling an enchanted necklace to show off to her.

“Of course.” She responds after a moment, taking herself out of the loop of doubt wracking her system. “Lead the way.”

The night is dark as Gale leads her to an uninhabited clearing outside the inn. Cold air pricks her skin, sending a soft shiver throughout her body.

Darkness cloaked the land, usually - something Lilith was familiar with. The little memories she did have were of early childhood - and growing up in the underdark she found comfort in the way it draped over the land night and day.

Tonight, there is no cloaking darkness. Lilith’s eyes widen as she takes in the awe-inspiring sky before her. Colors swirled where the darkness should be. An aurora borealis.

“Wow,” she breathes out. She moves to seat herself on the cold ground but Gale reacts quickly, muttering a quick conjuration spell. A soft bedroll appears under her and she can’t fight the smile that plays on her lips. “Is this all your doing, Gale?”

The wizard seats himself next to her, his thigh brushing against hers lightly. “It is, indeed.” He answers her, his eyes set on the sky in front of him. He turns his gaze towards her, swallowing hard.

Lilith reaches out and brushes her hand against his. He responds by twining his fingers through hers. His thumb caresses her knuckles tenderly.

“Are you alright?” She asks him. Her heart races in her chest. She wonders for a moment if Gale is as nervous as she is. She wonders if she rests her hand over the orb in his chest if she would feel the wild thumping of his heart. Of course she would - a bittersweet reminder of how alive he is, so alive and so different from anyone her fractured brain can recall. All she remembers is death; by her hand, by others, it didn’t matter. Sickening images taunted her night and day with no repentance.

Well, almost no repentance. When she is with Gale…everything is different. She feels almost soft, almost pliant. She smiles. She can’t say the other companions bring that side out of her - most of them thought her ruthless and kept a careful distance. Not Gale, though. He was always quick to remind her that the urges were not her, that she was not a monster. He brought out her human side; the side of her she always thought was weak. Yes, she had all the makings of a drow; pale, moonlit skin, pointed ears, misty purple eyes. With human blood coursing through her veins. She was conditioned to believe humans were weak, fragile…but she’s come to find that Gale is none of those things. He is strong, intelligent and open minded; whilst also being tender, soft and sweet.

She recalls loving a human before losing her memories, in her own revolting way. She cannot recall his face, the visions of him merely shadows in her mutilated brain. She cannot recall anything about him. But being close to Gale often brought back snippets of memories - feelings, mostly. The soft brush of another’s hand, a lock of hair pushed behind her ear. The soft, caring touch of someone tending to her wounds.

Sometimes, when she lies awake at night, she wonders if she is truly capable of loving someone else. In her mind, there is no doubt she is undeserving of it - loving someone, and being loved - all together. To her, it is almost crueler that she feels so much. It would be easier to not feel at all than address the ache in her chest when he comes near.

“I love this time of night.” She finally hears Gale breathe out. His eyes are glassy as he continues caressing her knuckles with his thumb. His voice wavers, giving way to his nerves. “There’s almost a reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn would never break…the cradle of eternity.”

Lilith’s mouth quirks in an attempted smile as she continues to listen to him. She is quite used to the endless words akin to poetry that seemed to be instinctual to the wizard, but something about his tone tonight is different.

“The timelessness of lovers…” he drolls out, turning his head to look upon Lilith. Her breath hitches as their eyes make contact. Gale expression is so vulnerable…so open. A hand presses against her cheek. The touch is brief, but the heat of him lingers. “The most beautiful of fantasies.”

Her face warms at his praise. It isn’t unlike him to flatter - but that remark feels different. He feels different. Lilith cant deny the effect his words have on her, but she knows that’s exactly what she is. A fantasy. A pretty face to look at, a warm body to indulge in. A tool to be used and thrown away. Nothing more.

She swallows, hard. “Why did you summon me here?”

Gale releases her hand now, leaving it cold at her side. “This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty, and wonder.” He tells her as he looks upon the stars. His gaze shifts to her again and she stiffens. “And with company to match.”

“I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter. But I am not so sure.” He finally confesses.

“Gale,” she starts, her eyebrows furrowing. “I refuse to believe this is the end. We will find another way, I promise.” She tries to hold back the rising panic in her voice, not wanting to divulge how much she feels she needs him.

The wizard’s smile is guarded. “Thank you. But even if we do find another way, perhaps this is the right way. The end fate wishes for me.”

“No. No.” Lilith breathes. “I cannot accept that. I cannot allow you to throw away your life for her-“

“It’s not for Mystra, Lilith! It’s the whole godsdamned world in the balance and I have a way to fix it-“

“I won’t let you. You can’t-“

“But why?” Gale asks. His usually warm brown eyes are wide, pleading.

Lilith’s gaze drops to the ground. A rising panic floods her body.

“Please, tell me.” He urges her, taking her cheek in his hand. His hand brushes her cheek and her eyes meet his. “You’re….crying.”

It’s an observation. One that shocks even her. She blinks, confused. Streams of hot, salty tears flood from her eyes. She can’t remember the last time she cried. Hells, she could barely remember anything, but she knew she didn’t cry. At least, she thought she didn’t.

Gale wipes her tears, and there is something so foreign, so cloying about his thumb brushing them away. Has she ever been touched so gently?

“I do not know who I am, not wholly,” she confesses. “But I know you. You’re good, you’re kind. You’re an incredible wizard and you have family and friends who love you, Gale.”

The wizard is silent, for once. She continues. “I wish I could take your place. I would take the orb from you in an instant, destroy the absolute and finally pay for everything I’ve done.”

Gale’s hand cups her jaw, willing her to look at him. “Lilith.”

“I’m not good, not like you. I have nothing, no one and it’s more than I deserve-“

“Lilith, look at me.”

It’s a command, and she follows it. She darts her eyes up at him, and gods his dark eyes are so soft as they look at her. The sincerity of it makes her feel naked. Powerless, even, as this human man cradles her heart in his hands and he doesn’t even know he has it.

“You must know you are very special to me.” Gale says, his voice merely a choked whisper. She trembles, and he covers her hands with his. “If things were different, if we were home…I’d have taken the time to do things properly. To say it all better. But time is short.”

Lilith knows what’s coming before it leaves his mouth. She’s pulling away, ready to retreat. “Gale-“

“I’m in love with you.”

She sits still, in shock after his confession before shaking her head. “I am undeserving of your love, I’m a murderer, Gale-“

“I’m in love with you, Lilith.” He repeats himself, sterner this time. “And I think you love me too.” He grips her hands like they are his life source, his eyes pleading with her and Lilith is tired. She’s tired of holding back. She’s tired of pretending she doesn’t love him. So, she takes his jaw in hand and slots her lips against his, and she’s finally kissing him. Hesitant and clumsy at first; her lips touch his, barely pressing. He reaches up to cup her cheek, groaning as he tastes her lips. She realizes very suddenly Gale isn’t shy with his mouth - his tongue slides against her lower lip, seeking entrance. Lilith lets out a choked little noise and parts her lips. He tastes like sweet red wine and magic as he lazes his tongue in her mouth. She could feel the weight of his body, incessant, pressing her against the bedroll.

They kiss for a long while. Long enough that Lilith forgets her earlier hesitations.

“I think I’m in love with you too.” She whispers against his chest when they finally part. “I don't - I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. But…I know I want to be with you.”

Gale smiles, he truly smiles for the first time since Mystra charged him with detonating the orb. “That’s a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself.”

“Gale!” She swats at his shoulder playfully, sending him rolling on his back. He laughs, freely, a light sound. She rests her body on top of his, her thighs on either side of his. His thumping heart beats quickly against her breast. “I’ve made a mess of you.” She tells him with a sigh, thumbing away her signature raven black lipstick from his irritatingly kissable lips.

With a hushed command and small gesture of his fingers, the lipstick disappears. She feels a light tingling on her skin. Gale takes off the rest of her makeup too with another hushed prestidigitation cantrip and he looks at her. His big brown eyes are admiring her, full of adoration. “You are beautiful.”

It’s the first time he’s seen her without makeup. The face that’s usually so severe, setting fear in the hearts of so many looks so soft as she gazes down at Gale. Her skin pale like marble, her eyes a soft lavender. Her lips deliciously pink and kissable. The same could be said about her cheeks, all hot and flushed just for him. And on the plane of her nose and on her cheeks are a soft smattering of freckles. With a light touch, he traces the scar that starts at her forehead and runs diagonally through her full brows to end at her cheek. His eyes are questioning, but he doesn’t voice his curiosity.

“I think I was young,” she starts, letting her mind sift through her broken memories. “I don’t remember anything other than that.”

Gale hums for a moment, staring up at her with an almost tangible warmth. “I could pick up a pen write poetry about your beauty…alas, there are truly no words that compare to the vision in front of me.”

“Hmm. I admit, I’m not well versed in poetry. Though I do enjoy a good raunchy ballad.” Lilith teases him, sliding her hands along his plush velvet tunic.

He grins wickedly. “Ah! A splendid idea! It would be quite the story to hear in a tavern, wouldn’t it? Two unlikely companions becoming close through hardships and grave dangers, finding love with the prospect of death looming on the horizon…”

“If I’d known you felt this strongly about ballads I would have asked Alfira to write one about us instead of my ravishing body.” She accentuates this point by taking the wizards hands in hers, guiding them up her frame. She places them on her waist before letting go. Gale’s fingers dance along the fabric of her tunic before settling on the soft curve of her waist, squeezing gently. “Or perhaps an erotic novel featuring a noble wizard and his drow maiden would be more to your taste?”

Gale’s mouth parts in surprise for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. There was no denying the impact her words had on him. In fact, his growing excitement was evident between her legs now.

The wizard clears his throat, sliding his hands lower to claim her hips with his touch. “A novel written by you would be a dream come true, my darling. In fact, I could try my hand at it. It should be easy, given even a mere glance from you inspires me to no end. In more ways than just one.”

A hitch in Lilith’s breath emboldens him, evidence of her reaction to his words. His gaze trails from her face, flicking down to her chest lingering just long enough to be respectful, (he is a gentleman after all) eventually landing on her thighs spread on their side of his, then back up to her eyes. “Of course, I would very much enjoy writing of this ‘ravishing half-drow maiden’,” - he is quick to correct her and she rolls her eyes, muttering “semantics!” - “but I’m not quite sure any flowery words could accurately describe just how lovely she truly is.”

“Then you must recount just how ravishing I am. In extra detail.” Lilith demands, leaning in just enough their noses touch.

“Oh yes, my dearest Lilith,” Gale starts, his thumbs dipping just under her tunic. He traces shapes into her bare skin and Lilith has to remind herself to breathe. “I shall write of every little thing that makes you so. Starting with those spellbinding lavender eyes that give way to your every emotion. Your gorgeous lips, your delicate curves, your fascinating mind. I’ll write of your strength, too. The feeling of your skin under my hands, as well, though I may need to do more…research, so to speak, on that specific topic.”

“Are you saying you want to touch me, Gale?”

“If I could be so lucky - I want it more than anything.”

“Then why write when you could feel? Experience?” Lilith guides one of his hands to her chest, over her hammering heart. He feels it beat under his touch for only a moment until she slides the hand down, placing it on her breast. He takes it in hand, her plushness filling his palm. “I’m quite real, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” He smirks shamelessly, his hand kneading at her. “But consider this, love: in the future…when death welcomes me to her door, my words will remain. Our love immortalized on paper forevermore. I shall write of you until I can no longer hold a pen, when the ink runs dry and I fill the final page, until there are no more words to say.”

Even as he palms her breasts eagerly now, his voice stays perfectly even. Godsdamned wizards and their impeccable concentration! He speaks in a relaxed, even cadence saying the sweetest words and touching her - though now, Lilith could see his pulse jumping under his skin. Small victories.

“You are such a romantic.” She murmurs affectionately, pulling her lower lip in her mouth as his thumb brushes lightly against one of her nipples. “Tell me, Gale, how is it possible such a lovely man has no wife awaiting him at home in Waterdeep?”

“Perhaps it is the same reason why a beautiful unmarried maiden such as yourself is perched so prettily in my lap. Gods, I feel so privileged to touch you like this.” The wizard was losing it now, his thoughts spiraling all in the same direction. He needed her close, to worship her with his touch. He needed to show her just how special she is to him.

Lilith toys with the hem of her tunic, a bright flush decorating her pale gray skin. “You may touch me however you wish, Gale. I grant you that privilege.”

Gale swallows hard, understanding quickly dawning on him. He releases her breasts to drag her tunic up over her head. She raises her arms and the garment is quickly discarded. His breath hitches in his throat as he takes in the view of her; the tops of her breasts spilling through her bra. It digs into her skin uncomfortably and the wizard furrows his brows. “That looks painful. May I?” His fingers trail up her back to the clasp holding the constricting fabric together. She nods and he doesn’t hesitate; the bra falls to the ground a second later, discarded and forgotten.

Lilith sighs in relief as her chest is bared to the cool night air. She watches Gale’s expression turn as he observes her, his eyes dragging down her form appreciatively, memorizing every inch of her milky skin. She resists the urge to cover herself. A part of her feels shameful when he looks upon her. Of course she knows her body is littered in scars. Gale, however, didn’t know the extent of just how scarred she is. So many wounds, some healed and barely visible, some fresher and pink. And he has yet to say a word! Not knowing what he is thinking is akin to torture for her.

“You practically glow in the moonlight.

Goddess.” He finally says. His voice is finally shaky, breathy even, like he can scarcely keep himself together. “I often wondered what you would look like, bared for me. My imagination pales in comparison to this.”

Lilith is throbbing between her legs now as he touches her properly for the first time, lithe fingers dancing along her skin before circling her sensitive nipples. Her thighs clench, squeezing his hips. She bites back the meek moan threatening to leave her.

“You haven’t seen me bared yet.” she teases, rubbing the crux of her thighs along his length.

Gale practically groans as she rocks her hips on him, grabbing at hers to still her. “I haven’t, have I? Allow me to amend that.”

Lilith slides off his lap so his fingers can work at her laces. Warm, practiced hands slide the fabric down her legs before throwing it to the ground. Those same hands caress her hips and thighs in earnest now. Her eyes lift to meet Gale’s, only to discover how utterly enamored he is with her body. Gods, how intense those kind eyes could be. How much heat could lie inside them - lurking just beneath the surface. She presses her thighs together, her core barely concealed by a small pair of black panties.

“Ah, ah.” Gale tuts, prying her legs apart, first admiring the way the fabric sticks to her flesh. He dips his thumbs under the waistband of her underwear, stealing a breath from her. “Would you allow me the privilege…?”

She nods, maybe a bit too eagerly. “Please, Gale.”

With no hesitation, he slides them down her legs and bundles them up, placing them in the pocket of his trousers. “…for safekeeping.” He assured her with a wink.

A nervous laugh bubbles in Lilith’s chest as she rests back on her elbows. She anticipated he would jump on her at first opportunity; but he pulls back, choosing instead to admire her under the soft glow of the sky he conjured just for her. “Lost your nerve, wizard?” She asks him. Her legs drape open and she’s finally bare beneath him. His eyes lock on to the small thatch of silver hair between her thighs before they traveled lower, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“How inviting you are. Just beautiful.” He murmurs appreciatively and she has to fight the visceral reaction her body has to his words. She clenches around nothing and pulls her lip between her teeth, biting hard.

Gale’s steady hands cup her jaw, pulling her into him and kissing her fiercely. He pulls away - breathless, before asking: ”May I touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure-“

“Gods, please Gale!”

“Desperation is a good look on you, dearest.” he admits before kneeling in front of her and lowering himself until she could feel his breath on her. “Such a delicate flower.” He whispers, finally dragging a single finger down her folds. Dexterous fingers tease her flesh, circling once around her opening to gather her slick before pressing against her already swollen clit. His eyes lift briefly to admire her debauched expression as he slowly sinks one finger inside her, immediately followed by another. “Does that feel good?” He questions, but the knowing smirk on his lips tells her he already knows the answer.

Lilith pouts and sighs dramatically, causing him to stop the movement of his fingers inside her. He looks up, a furrow in his brow. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something is gravely wrong. You see, a certain talented wizard of great renown once told me he had a practiced tongue…” She smirks, scooting her hips closer to his face. He presses a soft kiss right under her navel, leaving her shuddering. “The problem is, I’ve scarcely been able to think of anything else but that beautiful man and his tongue-“

Gale swiftly cuts her off with a long drag of his tongue up the expanse of her. She whines as he reaches her clit and threads her fingers through his soft brown curls.

“Oh.” she breathes as he parts her folds and focuses on her tiny bundle of nerves. Gods, was this man eager to please. She bucks hard against his face and he presses a hand hard against her thigh, holding her leg up to rest on his shoulder. “I - I apologize,” She stammers out, her whole body quivering. “It’s been a while, can’t even remember the last time-“

The hot lave of his tongue between her legs abruptly stopped, replaced by Gale’s thumb, his other fingers still stroking inside her at a languid pace. “What exactly are you apologizing for, love?” He asks and his hot breath makes her squirm.

“Gonna come fast, Gale please-” she practically begs him now, her hand in his hair pushing down his head, desperate to have his mouth again.

Gale seals his lips around her clit and her whole body contracts, her legs only spreading wider for him. He greedily laps up her release as he pets at her inner walls, stroking deeper and deeper as they contract around his fingers.

“Gale…” she whines, practically tearing at his tunic to pull him closer. His fingers slip out of her as he falls into her embrace, their lips meeting desperately.

Lilith didn’t know she could feel this way. To feel more like a woman than a monster. But in this moment, pliant in Gale’s arms, she feels like a woman. Hells, she feels like a goddess after he worshipped her with his tongue.

The same tongue that was now sliding across her own. Her hands grab at the hem of his tunic, shoving it over his head. The wizard chuckles before assisting her, slipping it the rest of the way off. Her palms slide over his bare chest, finally feeling his skin under her hands. His trousers are next to go, haphazardly thrown to the side and when Lilith opens her eyes Gale is looming over her in only his underwear. Her hands find the waistband quickly with all intentions of dipping her fingers inside and taking him in hand, but she hesitates. Instead, she looks up at him, and finds him staring down at her. Their eyes meet - his, dark and stormy, full of lust and love. It steals the breath from her lungs and she kisses him them, pressing her forehead to his. “You’ll stay with me?” she asks him now, her voice softer than he’s ever heard before. Her teary lavender eyes are begging, pleading him. Please, she wants to say. She wants to have him, to keep him. She wants to be enough. Enough for him to stay.

”I’m here,” he tells her, his voice strangled. His own dark eyes are glassy. “I would never even dream of leaving you, Lilith. I love you.”

Their lips meet again and she takes him in her hand, earning a groan from her wizard. His skin is hot in her palm but she needs more. She pulls away from him, settling back on the bedroll and opening her legs. “Please.”

Gale exhales heavily at the sight of her, so open and ready for him. He crawls over to her, his body hovering over hers. ”Gods, you’re a vision - what do you need, my love?”

Lilith cannot help it; her eyes flit straight down his body to stare between his legs. He looks achingly hard; a bead of wetness at the head that she desperately wants to lap up. However, in this moment - her need for him to be inside her was far greater.

“I need your cock.” She finally tells him, pleading, her arms reaching out to pull him on top of her.

“Eloquently put, dearest.” Gale murmurs teasingly before holding her close, kissing her slowly, languidly. His hardness presses against her stomach and she reaches down, angling him against her center. A whine escapes her as the tip of him brushes her still-sensitive clit. She is so wet, her slick so abundant he slides right down through her folds and enters her with no resistance. He groans as he does - his control waning for every torturous second he lets her walls adjust around his girth.

Lilith gasps as he thrusts inside her for the first time, her hands flying up around his neck. “Gale,” she moans, placing a wet kiss over his pulse point. “You make me forget this god-forsaken world, you elate me, excite me, intoxicate me - fuck!”

A brutal thrust causes her to lose her train of thought. She moans with reckless abandon, clenching around his length that’s buried so deep inside her. “By the gods, I feel the same way, Lilith.” Gale manages to say, his breath hot against her neck.

”You know me like no other,” she proclaims, winding her legs around his waist. She digs her heels into his backside, a desperate moan spilling from her lips as the angle forces him even deeper. “Gale, I - I love you. Come inside me, please, make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Gale wastes no time in dipping his head down and licking into her mouth, her jaw cradled in his hand. His cock throbs against her fluttering walls as he fucks her at a maddening pace and she knows he is close. Still, his hand slides between their bodies, his fingers gathering her slick and circling her clit. She whines in his mouth and clenches around him, so close to the edge already.

“I feel it,” he practically growls against her lips. “The way you tighten around me - gods, come for me again my love.”

She does - she comes around him like a storm, mewling into his mouth, squeezing his cock with reckless abandon. It sends Gale to the edge; his hips stutter against hers and he spills inside her.

The moment feels precious. Cathartic. His lips slide against hers and for once she is grateful to not be able to remember anything before the tadpole. For this; being in his arms - is perfect. He is what she wants to remember. No one else.

“Will you?” She asks him. “Stay with me?”

Gale presses a sweet kiss to her head. “Of course I will, my darling.”

And for now whilst Lilith is nestled safely in his embrace, she stares up at the sky. Her lips curl in a smile as the colors of the Aurora Borealis comes into view. She marvels at how incredible the stars could look. An almost indescribable feeling rushes over her sweat slick skin, a sense of security she’s never experienced before. Her eyes move to Gale, who’s eyes are closed, his breaths coming even and deep. She waits for the urge to call on her, tainting the moment. But it’s quiet, seemingly dormant.

For now, everything is perfect.

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira does not volunteer an explanation for the little girl's behavior, but Hector almost immediately starts to formulate some theories, especially since he can hear the little girl talking with another voice inside the building.

"She'll be here. Any second. Maybe she's sneaking." "Doubtful - we'd hear her knees cracking."

"Enough, Fig. There's no point getting your hopes up. She'll be back when she's back." "You don't think she will." "I know she will. But we can wait a little longer, if you like."

"I saw her, I swear!" "Are you sure? Maybe it was just a laborer hauling a shaggy grey mop." "Be serious, Rion. Who puts braids on a mop?"

Hector swallows the urge to smile. Whoever these people are, they know Jaheira. They have been waiting for her to return from the shadowlands. This is going to be a reunion.

He looks at her sideways as they step through the door, but her expression is utterly still, entirely unreadable. She only speaks as they reach the center of the living room and the arranged figures standing there (Fig included) turn towards them.

"Oh, Malar's mark... here we go," she says, and a rueful smile flickers onto her face.

It's a rather motley crowd arranged to receive her. Fig and another girl about her age stand by the side of a young elven woman with dark hair wearing a greathammer on her back and polished leather armor. Next to her is a hulking half-orc fellow with bright pink hair. All of them look more than a little surprised.

"Are we quite sure she hasn't actually died this time, brother?" the elf says with jocular humor, lounging back on her heels and looking at the orc. "She *looks* dead."

"Smells it, too," the orc grunts.

Jaheira snorts. "It has been a hard road," she says with something between amusement and indignation. "But I can clip you both around the ear to prove I am no ghost, if it would help!"

The woman grins sardonically. "Forgive us, mother. We're just surprised you know how to find your way home."

Hector's eyebrows shoot to his hairline and his mouth drops open. "Mother? Jaheira, these are your children?!"

Adoptees, certainly, unless Jaheira casts her net far wider than he would have ever taken her for. He finds himself deeply touched to picture the actions that would have led to this diverse bunch calling themselves siblings. Jaheira has a more sentimental streak than she would ever actively admit.

"She always brings the smartest people home, too," the woman says dryly.

"Enough, Rion," says Jaheira, suddenly sharp. "I taught you better manners than that."

"No, you didn't," the orc mumbles, sotto voce.

Rion rolls her eyes. "A sending spell can carry twenty-five words. Do you know how many Jaheira's only message contained, in all this time she's been away? Seven."

Hector winces. OK, maybe Jaheira's not *that* sentimental, he thinks wryly.

"This... really isn't any of my business," he says awkwardly, rubbing his jaw with one hand.

Rion laughs, a shade bitterly. "Hah. Now there is a phrase Jaheira has never uttered. But no." A slight pause. "The message went, 'I'm sorry. You know what to do.'"

"So why haven't you done it?" Jaheira interjects with visible agitation. "You were supposed to get the young ones out of the city!"

"And you were supposed to be dead," Rion fires back without missing a beat. "That's what your oh-so-stoic message meant, yes?" Her voice softens almost imperceptibly, and Hector can hear the thread of anxiety underneath it. "Yet here you are. So... what happened out there?"

Jaheira frowns, then jerks her head to indicate Hector. "I got my skin saved by this one. We've come to take the fight to the cult - which is *exactly* why you all cannot be here."

The woman juts her jaw out stubbornly. "Why? You plan on winning, don't you?" She turns in Hector's direction, lifts an eyebrow at him - in a way that reminds him very much of Jaheira indeed. "You're the one who saved her, so tell me. Are we all doomed?"

Hector folds his arms and looks back at her steadily. "The cult is powerful," he says. "It's not going to be an easy fight."

"So fight," Rion says sharply. "That's what all you heroes and Harpers are for, isn't it?"

Jaheira sighs. "You are a very irritating girl," she deadpans.

"Ah-ah--" Rion wags a finger at her. "This isn't your house, remember? You'll keep a civil tongue under our roof - *if* we let you stay at all."

"Have mercy, sister," the orc puts in. "She's old after all."

"SOOOOOO old," one of the little girls says with a giggle.

"She can stay," Fig declares. "But only if she brought home *presents.*"

Rion laughs softly, though without much humor. "Seems I'm out-voted. See, mother? That is how you go about talking things through with your family." She shakes her head, looks at the others of the group with some skepticism, then shrugs. "Now, if there's more to discuss, then bloody well come in. And wipe your boots."

[skymagpie]

The War Within SPOILERS and the discussion around [redacted]'s death

This will be spoiler heavy and below the cut I will not be censoring [redacted]'s name so proceed with caution. I am mostly going to discuss theories, reactions, wishful thinking and the such. Feel free to add or discuss!

As a lot of us who saw the leaks know, it is implied that Khadgar dies in the opening of The War Within, in the pre-patch story. The implication comes from the fact that we see Dalaran destroyed and the placeholder for the cutscene says that the rest of the cast takes a moment for Khadgar.

Now I expected Khadgar to die in the World Soul Saga. They kept hinting how they will make us sad, Chris Metzen has been taking classes from the Game of Thrones writing school in the late years and the community was out for blood because Dragonflight was Oh So Disney!!! To add to that, Khadgar kept acting like he is on death's door in both Shadowlands and Dragonflight, which is the weakest form of foreshadowing a character death possible. Also he is 54, he isn't even old.

However what I didn't expect is to be right at the opening quest of The World Within. I expected either here or maybe in the following expacs, maybe at the last fight, but not at the opening. And the death being here is actually my problem with it.

Theory on how it might go down ->

If you watch PlatinumWoW's video on the alpha, it seems that Magni Bronzebeard goes into another coma and we bring him to Dalaran to nurse him back to health. There are some other characters present.

Afterwards we end up on the shore with The Chamber of the Guardian (where we nursed Magni back to health) in pieces. And we fight Xal'atath's nerubians. Afterwards comes the screenshot from above where the main cast seems to mourn Khadgar.

The most obvious and cliche way this will go down is that:

We tend to Magni

We learn something about Xal'atath from Alleria and/or Khadgar

She suddenly attacks

We defend the city and fail

Khadgar does a heroic sacrifice, ensuring our escape and losing his life in the process. This plays in a pre-rendered cutscene much like Varian's on Broken Shore.

Once we arrive at the beach there is a Animated Real-Time Cutscene as described above where everyone mourns him.

Alleria makes it her mission to hunt down Xal'atath because Khadgar is one of her closest friends. Their beef is personal (and I get it, I am with Alleria).

Theories and wishful thinking

-> Now for the theories, please do know that Khadgar is my favourite WoW character and there is a lot of bias in what I hope might happen, so I will list them just in case.

The death might be a fake-out. We might not see him die on screen (though this depends on the pre-rendered cinematic I believe is missing) and we assume he has died in the explosion or whatever broke The Chamber of the Guardian. We mourn him and near the end of the Expansion he will appear just in the nick of time. Here he might actually die, but that is another discussion.

Khadgar openly decides to port Dalaran elsewhere or we see him be swallowed by the void and ported elsewhere himself. He is not dead, but we do not know of his fate and neither do the main characters, so they take a moment to mourn. This also adds to Alleria's personal beef with Xal'atath even if Khadgar doesn't die. Saving him from whatever fate befell him can also add to this.

They actually take a moment for him because he is somewhere and not dead (not likely, but I have to throw it in here).

Discussion

I won't lie, I think if it goes down how I suspect it will, it will be horrible. I don't know if Chris Metzen and the writers are under the impression that Tirion's and Vol'jin's deaths were good because they weren't. They were pointless Game of Thrones-esque shock value so people will not whine that this game doesn't kill enough characters.

This game has had it's fair share of good character deaths and it's fair share of horrible character deaths. Varian, for example, had a good death. His death was given the weight it deserved, he went out as a badass and he got a whole rendered cutscene. Not to mention he had narrative build up, he learned the lesson his son was trying to teach him right at the end and he knew that his time as leader is over and this world needs a king like Anduin now. Tirion was disrespected. Metzen and the writers must be out of their mind if they think the community found Tirion's death as anything other than stupid and funny, because that's all it was.

So if Khadgar earns this death, it will truly be stupid. I have no problem with characters dying, I have a problem with pointless deaths just so annoying youtubers will think that we are finally having AN EPIC STORY because you know, the years are 2011-2019 and we still think Game of Thrones is peak writing.

Khadgar's death here will not have any narrative build up - let's be real, Khadgar wasn't a character in the previous 3 expansions so killing a character that is narratively "cold" is not going to have an emotional impact on people. Varian was very present in the story when he died.

I think a far better way to handle this is if we have this scenario, have Khadgar's death be a fake out and then have him die in the 3rd act of the expansion. This way there will be narrative build up and it will lull us in the false sense of security that Khadgar cannot die, only to then shock us when he does. This will really break the feeling of "hope" we might build up and truly achieve a feeling of dread and defeat.

They already tried writing death at the beginning of a story and just rehashing Broken Shore won't make Tirion and Vol'jin's deaths any less stupid. Khadgar is a beloved character, he isn't someone you should kill at the start of a story. No matter how symbolic you think it is that he dies along with The Chamber of the Guardian, none of it ties back to any of his previous and good stories, from The Last Guardian and all the way to Legion.

So while as a writer I want to remain realistic and know that probably my favourite character will get bagged, a part of me hopes that the writers are a bit better than this and that they won't give us another Broken Shore, but give us a meaningful character death and a worthy farewell.

It's too early to speak, so this is all speculations and I am probably not right about many things.

[sorcerous-somebody]

Rowan 🌕

Race: Half Wood Elf

Class: Circle of the Moon Druid

Pronouns: they/them

Age: 38

Background: Outlander

Romance partner(s): Shadowheart & Halsin

More notes under the cut (contains BG3 spoilers)

My notes:

Rowan is based on a character from a very short-lived D&D campaign. I didn't have much of a story for them until I put them in BG3 and let my mind go wild.

They were raised as a noble in Baldur's Gate. Their father ran away from noble life for a while, had a kid with a wood elf, and decided to return to Baldur's Gate with the kid. Rowan's childhood was spent mostly locked away, their extended noble family was afraid of the social repercussions of having a child born out of wedlock (and the child being being a half-elf).

Once Rowan became of age though, the family changed its tune and began parading Rowan around like some sort of exotic pet to be married off to the best bidder (yikes). Rowan chose to leave the city when an arrangement was made and their family refused to tell them who it even was.

They had been planning to leave ever since discovering a hidden chest full of letters addressed to them over the years from their mother. They set off on an adventure to track her down. While Rowan did not end up finding their mother, they did find a druidic circle that took them in and taught them survival skills. They lived with that circle for many years, up until they got kidnapped by mindflayers.

Rowan actively despises wearing dresses or anything feminine due to their upbringing.

No one can guess their age. In camp one night, everyone is shocked when Rowan says they're 38. Half-elf genes and being a druid definitely contributes to them looking that young.

During the events of BG3, Rowan really connected with Shadowheart, especially when she expressed care for animals. But they did struggle to get past her Sharran tendencies. Rowan became completely smitten though when Shadowheart threw the spear away of her own volition in the Shadowfell.

Rowan also had a small fling with Astarion, but they both decided he would be better off with a friend, not a lover. The little asshole still made a comment about how defeating Cazador would be the "second most satisfying" thing they had done together though. -_-

They have green vine tattoos on their neck and face that fade quickly over time if they are not with their circle. Only druids know how to "refresh" the tattoos. I used the magic mirror to make them look more faded over my playthrough, until their night with Halsin. Rowan came back from that night somehow feeling both refreshed and exhausted ;)

Rowan refused to use the tadpoles at all and was very disgusted by what they saw as the Emperor's attempts at manipulation. Unsuprisingly, Orpheus ended up as the mindflayer again in this playthrough.

They still want to try to find their mother, but they suspect a note from they found in the cursed Shadowlands is from her (the handwriting matched her other letters). She likely died to the shadow curse, unfortunately.

Shadowheart chose to save her parents, and they all live in a cottage together with lots of rescued animals post-game. I like to think the cottage is near the formerly cursed Shadowlands so they can visit Halsin and help with the children sometimes.

I changed their hair each act to show that they were growing it out, pics below.

Starting off strong trying to save their future girlfriend (I reloaded):

Platonic Sad boy hours with Gale:

The main squad for this playthrough:

Shadowheart giving her blessing to climb Mount Halsin:

Forehead smooches from Halsin:

(Shadowheart's kisses are mostly broken for me, unfortunately. I submitted a bug report today.)

Confronting the brain:

That's all I've got on them for now, I may edit to add more as I think of things!

[symunuk]

for the companion asks: general 7, 10, 11 and the free space!

7. Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

Since his story got worked up from a Tav perspective his story's a lot less about big villains or having something in your chest ready to pop - his quest circles more themes of family trauma, giving a shit about other people when it doesn't directly impact him, oh, and Tymora favouring him enough to give him a critical nudge towards the end that stops him falling to his death. From my interpretation of her, she's the type to favour those who push on despite the odds - so the PC making those kinds of decisions would favour that sort of thing I suppose?

Also: whether you take the Underdark or Mountain Pass route into the Shadowlands would change something pretty significant for Symon :') See No10.

10. Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game?

Oh god, is there. If he wasn't a PC then the minimum would be: Ikkath (younger brother, part of the Drider's escorting party, dies if you don't meet them before the Harpers are involved) and Hogarth (youngest brother, can be persuaded (checks) to assist in the Moonrise prisons if Symon is in your party or your PC recognises the tattoo on his face as matching Symon's). Perhaps Durz too (true soul, can be brought under the protection of the artefact as long as Symon & Hogarth are alive in Act 3). Getting Durz and Hogarth onside means they'll go off with the Harpers in Act 3 and turn up for the final battle with the rest of the family as a summon.

11. Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner)

I think he'd have something to say if he was present for the first chat with Alfira (and he wouldn't be kind about Alfira or the PC - unless the PC already had performance proficiency). Something along the lines of:

"That was very sweet. It reminds me of when I was first learning the lute - the worgs were the only ones would could tolerate that too."

Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

He's actually significantly nicer as a PC - when he's shunted into a leadership position he's much more inclined to try and keep the peace for the sake of his own neck. He gets along best with Shadowheart and Astarion, and then Karlach once she's found. And to flesh out the Tymora thing: this came entirely from me picking the Lucky feat early on and then just barely scraping through a lot of difficult fights because of one critical decision that completely turned the fight around. Usually stuff that had a low odd of success but NEEDED to work, or a character crit'ing at a key moment, or suddenly realising information that let me change strategy ("Hey, the werewolves are humanoids... hmm--") (End of Game spoilers below)

So that was in my head when we got to that series of rolls in Act 3 and used all the Lucky + Inspiration rolls on the first 3... and then passed the DC99 without any save scumming. And that's the only reason we were able to kill the brain fast enough to stop him from falling to his death (it was on ~9 health and I only had one attack left before the floor under him broke). So safe to say Tymora had been looking out for him the whole time.

[inthenightskyathousandstarsshine]

Baldur’s Gate 3

Was I the only idiot who didn’t do this? Do you know this?? (Spoilers for Act II)

So, preview to this, I want to say I went in blind to this game and the only reason I even knew about it was because people in a discord server I was in was raving about it and I decided to give it a try.

The only times I actually looked stuff up was when there was a puzzle or fight I couldn’t figure out.

Now saying all of that, Lae’zel died during the fight with the two tieflings, and I didn’t attempt to revive her. (Could I even revive her if she wasn’t a companion yet?) I did just about everything before entering the Mountain Pass.

But because Lae’zel was dead, I only knew of two mainline quests in the area - The Blood of Lathander, and the Steal a Githyanki Egg quest. Also I made a detour and tried the Githyanki curing machine.

I got the egg pretty easily, once I figured out where all the traps were.

After a few attempts with the machine, trying to figure out if it was destined to be destroyed, that was also out of the way.

Talking to the General though, was where I ran into a snag. I knew there was some puzzle in the Monastery, and I knew I had all the pieces - but I wasn’t paying attention and threw everything I got in camp. And do you know how many rusty maces I collected over the course of Act 1 and Act 1.5? More than I knew. So I basically gave it up as a lost cause, especially when I talked to the General and learned that whatever was behind the door to the cool weapon meant I had to give up the artifact. I was not okay with that, and left. Continued on my journey, did not look back. Lae’zel was not in my party to compel me to figure out what was going on, and I noped out of there and headed to start Act 2.

Act 2 required me to look up more stuff, because some of those fights were hard and I was still a noob to combat. (Thank you whichever combat tutorial I watched that showed me I could ambush enemies.) So, I go through Act 2, panicked at the God I had to fight, and continued with Act 3 after some backtracking because my relationship with Astarion failed even though I did everything right and had just forgotten to Long Rest in order to do a cutscene. (I was about to strangle this elf, because I had done his quest line to a T and was still being broken up with. I was glad I hadn’t deleted my save files from Act 2 yet)

Anyways, the point of this whole ramble was to say after I left Act 2, I went to see what I had missed so I could hopefully find it on my next run through. (Though, let’s be honest, I’m going to forget when I come back around and it’s going to have to be sheer luck if I remember any of those tips.)

And eventually I come across the fact there was supposed to be an ambush right before you left for Baldur’s Gate, which I did not encounter. I marked it as strange, and continued on in ignorance.

I eventually got fed up with the prequel to one of the Boss fights in Act 2, and started a new game to relieve my frustration until I was ready to tackle it again.

This time, I kept Lae’zel alive! And went through her quest line (and cutscene!). And then when I was exploring the Shadowlands, I came across the really hard ambush I had seen floating around.

And I wondered…

…was anyone else stupid enough to completely skip Lae’zel’s storyline and realize if you don’t do it, you won’t encounter the Githyanki patrol?

[garf-lover96]

erm who is ermm your erm favorite and umm least favorite baldurs gate 3 character

i'm so glad you asked user memberoflottiescult. there's a few characters that piss me off really bad, the first that comes to mind is Nere. he's such an annoying bitch. such a severable head.

next one is Mizora. her voice annoys me and i don't enjoy the way she talks to Wyll. HOW MANY TIMES CAN YOU COMPARE HIM TO A DOG, GIRL STFU!!

then there's the every single deity in there. Mystra, Vlaakith, Shar, The Dead Three, also The Absolute i guess?? it's probably mainly just the atheist in me but they all make me so mad, i'm always happy to help my silly little party to break their chains and abandon their bum ass gods.

also Oskar Fevras. i'll always have beef with that guy.

as for the favorites:33 i love my whole party they're all so nice and interesting, i love being nice to them too and observing how their approval of me goes up and they get FIXED!! they're getting therapy, my treat. i'd do a companion ranking but honestly a lot of them would be squeezed in one place or something, i like a big portion of them equally. but my special sweetheart is Astarion of course.. i don't know if i'll ever escape the urge to romance him on every single playthrough, i'm insanely attached to him

some npcs i like.... Dame Aylin.. she's so corny sometimes but she's very cool and she makes me smile. her song is so good too omg?? i do love a badass woman. Raphael honestly! he's a yapper and annoys me sometimes but he's just cool as hell, also i like bullying him for his stupid rhymes when i have the opportunity. he's so pathetic, i enjoy it. Rolan is lowkey growing on me too and my heart literally dropped when i saw that he's not in sorcerous sundries in my current playthrough.. i think bro died in the shadowlands and i feel bad.. i'll save him in the next one, i swear

i can't remember any more!!

[aezyrraeshh]

pspsps spare some morana lore if you've any to share?? 👀 i'd love to know what her story is!!

aaaaaaaaaaaa ty so much for the ask ophelia <33 i have quite a lot of info for her already teehee

so, her name, as you could've probably noticed, references the goddess morana, who is associated with rebirth and death, and these motifs are the main ones for morana and her story.

morana was born in menzoberranzan unfortunately, however, she wasn't born to a powerful house or a trading clan, so her early life in the city was very tough, and the way of the city, of course, shaped her character greatly. lolth worship, lack of trust, cruelty are all of the things morana was introduced to since the earliest stages of her life. living in the city of chaos was tough, but she actually did have one person she could rely on-- rylor or ry. they knew each other since they were kids, and they survived together through everything the city threw at them.

morana wanted to attend one of the academies of menzoberranzan to get something out of the city, but she knew she had an almost zero chance in it, but she showed a great potential at manipulating the weave so she used it to her advantage whenever it was needed.

fortunately or unfortunately for her, morana got what she desired and she was noticed by a powerful wizard, lytha, who noticed morana's potential. it wasn't the most.. pleasant apprenticeship bc lytha actually saved morana's life and then kind of made her to serve herself, while also teaching morana magic. morana hated doing lytha's bidding, of course, bc her teacher often forced morana to do things she despised, but morana would still cling to that life bc it was better than the one that was before, and lytha in the unexpected show of mercy, allowed morana to bring ry with her. lytha totally used their desperation for her own gain, but morana knew how to get something useful for her and her greatest friend from this so she pushed through all the bad stuff.

after quite a lot of time, lytha did start to see morana as more of an equal, and taught her the ways of the necromancy. but when it seemed like good times were finally approaching, ry died during one of the raids on the surface, and morana was crushed. the only person she could ever trust, the only stability in her life was gone, and she was overcome with grief and rage, and she couldn't allow it to happen, and the decision to bring ry back was made, and morana made death her enemy, but it never ends well, we all know.

she retrieved ry's body and preserved it as well as she could, and after that she became obsessed. her only purpose was to bring ry back, and she tried so hard, but her attempts always failed. she could make a puppet of his body, could talk to him for a limited amount of time, but ry was never there, what made him him was gone. she was constantly controlling the body, but she didn't want that. she wanted ry back, as it was. each failure meant loosing ry again, so every attempt felt like he died again and again, and morana wasn't managing it well. now, she looked like the dead one, she barely ate, barely slept, she never left her home, and whenever lytha tried to stop her, morana wouldn't listen, she would just double down on her efforts.

so despite the respect and perhaps affection that lytha held for morana, was bled dry, and she dismissed morana, threw her away bc she was no longer useful to her (and lytha secretly hoped that by cutting morana's resources, she would sooner or later abandon the idea all together). after that, she travelled the underdark in search of the way to bring ry back, and during her searches she stumbled to the shadowlands, and there she started to loosing her mind even more. eventually the curse claimed her, and she died near ry. and i imagine her crumbling mind filled with guilt and felling of failure, but also peace bc all is finally over.. crying and screaming

but fate played a cruel joke on her for morana was brought back to life under mysterious circumstances with only fractures of her memory that come to her in her dreams and a void deep within her soul as if she lost something but can't remember what.

[limpfisted]

i appreciate everything you've done for me. / and yet as they both sit in avernus, her show of appreciation does not reach her eyes the way it used to. her smile does not beam as brightly and is, instead, as dull as a dying candle flame.

Two years. Two long years. Watching Karlach dance with no music but the crickets and the beat of the sun, scream with joy at every possible occasion even in the depths of the Shadowland's grey curse (and to it, she brought so much color, red, red, red, every shade of red). He watched her sing sweet warbling coos at every bunny and bear and flower, blow raspberries behind Mizora's back so loud and hard spittle sprayed against Wyll's nose and they laughed all the harder, until Mizora was all but forgotten by the warmth in Wyll's heart. He watched her love with all that she was.

He watched her burn with it. He refused to watch her burn out.

Can you blame him? For wanting her light to keep guiding him?

Some people are just too good to die. He wants to protect her. He wants to save her. He wants her to keep fighting. She deserves to live...

Living in Avernus was harder than he could have dreamed.

It was rewarding, more than he could have hoped---but for every Karlach they guided to safety---there were a dozen Mizoras eager to clench their teeth and claws around both their souls again. (Every day the deals get a little more enticing. He didn't regret his choice. Not for a moment. But it would be nice, he thinks. To lay Karlach down in a Grand Duke's bed, to play with her hands and twiddle his fingers in her hair as he braided it. Often now... she doesn't want to be touched, and while he does not begrudge her that---how could he---there is a loneliness in it, that he can only imagine is so much worse in every way for her.)

He needs her. Just as much as she needs him. If she died---if she let herself die---where would he go? What would he do?

He lives for her, now. Their mission. Their shared redemption (nevermind, he knows, that they had no choice, she especially. He still needs to fight for the prisoners he once guarded. He needs salvation, atonement for this guilt, and of course---with great power, great responsibility. They were meant to be heroes, the strong and the sweet).

He could go back to the Sword Coast. Face questions without good answers. He was exiled when he left Baldur's Gate. But now some part of him feels like now he's a child running away from home, grabbing his favorite teddy bear to go on wild adventures.

This isn't fun, for Karlach. When he writes down the stories of The Blade and Fury of Avernus in his brand new journal for it---he does not describe her dying smile. His prose is just as empty.

They can't go back. He can't go back, not with her and not without her.

His smile will always be pure fire for her, dancing through stained glass light, a boyish grin, that crackles with age and use, his red eye stained like an oak barrel filled with the finest wine.

As if nothing is wrong. As if they're more alive, more happy than they've ever been. Maybe... maybe Wyll hasn't been.

"And I, you, my friend. Who would I be without you? A worse man, I fear. Not any hero I could be proud of."

"I will always be here for you."

It's the opposite of a knife to a throat, and yet, a promise that sounds like a threat.

I will always be here for you.

Forever.

Forever is a very long time time to spend in Hell.

[lathrine]

i never wanna post anything until its Done, but i dont really do finished pieces, so i just simply never post anything. so today im posting a couple of WIPs taking up my brain space!

anyways i have had so many iterations of this in my brain for the last two years, and it finally feels like its starting to coalesce into something Real.

i found the song around the same time i dropped WoW due to the ongoing horror show that is blizzard. whenever i step away from the game i determine the in-universe circumstances that would make Lathrine no longer active, and honestly mid-expansion Shadowlands gave me lots of good reasons lmao.

but Lathrine has been active military for a long time (i've played since before the opening of Ahn'Qiraj), and experienced a LOT of loss in that time-- both in terms of NPC loss, and in terms of people and characters i played with who are simply no longer around. and then, of course, in recent WoW history you have the War of Thorns, the burning of Teldrassil and genocide of the remaining night elf population. you have the alliance blatantly refusing to offer real humanitarian aid. you have the Night Warrior, and the rock-solid faith of the night elves being shaken to its core.

there's the discovery of the Ardenweald, the literal perfect afterlife the night elves are destined for. the realization that it is actively dying and taking all of the sleeping spirits (including the night elf deities) with it. the discovery that every night elf soul that died in the War of Thorns was sent to super hell. learning that Tyrande is losing to the Night Warrior and there is no cure for Elune's fury; that it will kill her.

(unless, of course, she chooses to stop being angry and hurt that something like 95% of her people were horribly murdered-- some by people they had JUST called allies-- less than four years ago. wanting revenge against those who advocate for and enact genocide is Bad, after all)

so! i started kicking around this concept of Lathrine retiring because she had lost faith in all of it-- in the Alliance, in hope for unification between the factions, in her leadership, in Elune. in herself. that was about when i found Bones in The Ocean, which had an instant impact on me and gave me direction: Lathrine succumbed to despair in the Maw, tried to kill herself, gained that last-second 'my misery is fixable' clarity and was, ultimately, saved by Hati (who is soulbound to her). and from there she retired. from there she went back to Azeroth and her hearthealer and her family. she left the military and found friends to move in with, somewhere far from the politics that see her as expendable. somewhere she can raise her children.

until very recently i still struggled with how the scene in the Maw looked, how everything went down. but recently i remembered the River of Souls, and how its filled with an absolutely unbearable misery which is not meant for the living.

now the scene goes: while on a quest, Lathrine gets stuck in the River of Souls. the weight of misery and anger and sorrow weighs her down, amplifying her own, until she is literally unable to escape. she is confronted-- real or imagined-- by the ghost of every loved one she has ever lost. every NPC she failed to save, every PC who vanished off the face of the earth. (the one in the sketch is Drakuru, whose questline has stuck with me for fourteen years.)

ultimately Lathrine is saved by Hati, who found a familiar paladin (Korian) and warlock (Fwoosh) questing nearby and who fished her out of the River. the Alliance military asks for her to be released back to active duty; her hearthealer just about has a conniption.

this is a VERY rough sketch, obvs. i want to finish this for the sake of finishing it, but my ultimate intention is to rough out the whole thing in an animation. so maybe i'll have that to share someday, too

[faerune]

emily do you have any thoughts or ideas you could share about your wow ocs 🥺🙏 all of their pinterest boards are gorgeous!!

SOPHIIIIE my beloved

so like the Main Crew who is responsible for like most of what is attributed to the player characters. they all start as a group of adventurers in TBC, with fiona and vaelin sent by the kirin tor most notably to find what happened to khadgar and for vaelin also kael'thas cause what's he doin out there....

Ahma: draenei protection paladin. the unofficial leader of the gang. she was born on draenor and her parents died during the siege of karabor. ahma and her sister were unofficially adopted/taken under the wing of the prophet velen. she eventually trained as a paladin after finding she did not have the gentle touch or patience for priesthood.

Fiona: human frost mage. was born to poor farmers in hillsbrad foothills. once her magic manifested, her mother basically sold her to the kirin tor of dalaran. she has mommy issues and regularly sends her wages back to her family it's all very sad but she's a bitch on the outside so no one knows wow revolutionary character. (but i love her sm) constantly serving cunt

Vaelin: blood elf fire mage. born to an elven prostitute who died when he was young, he lived a few years as an urchin and an orphan until the kirin tor found he had a talent for magic essentially saving him. he's a dickhead, he and fiona butt heads, they fall in love, have a baby, we love to see it. also he might be a sunstrider bastard? possibly? we don't know.

Durin: dwarf beastmastery hunter. veteran of the first, second, and third wars. he was part of a guild of adventurers who were responsible for everything in Classic. during the re-opening of AQ, the group was slaughtered by C'Thun including his wife: sereda. durin was one of the few who survived and the only one who was not driven insane by such close proximity to an old god. this was simply because of dumb luck as he was knocked out early in the fight. he's grumpy and does Not have the patience to deal with all these young adventurers but really he's just scared to bond with them and lose them. also he has a griffon who he loves SO MUCH (who i haven't named yet).

Trixie: gnome subtlety rogue. born to two extraordinary famous gnomish inventors, she set out on her own because her parents were very....overbearing considering she's their only child and the whole lost of gnomeragan thing. kleptomaniac. likes to blow things up. besties with durin.

during cataclysm, the last two members of the party join round everything out.

Lanayla: night elf resto druid. the sweetest pea. born to two druids and grew up in darkshore as her parents had left after the druid order back then did not accept women. her mother sadly died when she was super young and her father trained her as a druid and it was pretty much just them out in their little cottage <3 they were super close, one of my few OCs with a good dad lmaooo. she seeks out help for darkshore during the cataclysm and is met with wellllllll everywhere needs help by the other night elves. BUT the worgen who had been saved and given refuge by the night elves volunteered to help.

Warwick (first name James but he never goes by that): worgen rogue/warrior (haven't decided yet oops). one of the worgens who first volunteers to help lanayla! he's more soft spoken and thoughtful which bless him gets drowned out with all the strong voices i talked about above. he was the bastard son of greymane's sister and was raised alongside HIS children when his mother died. greymane is like a father to him and when liam dies and tess abdicates it falls to him to become heir. he and lanayla fall in love and eventually head back to gilneas after shadowlands to rebuild <3

there's a bunch of other characters who are allies/associated with this group along with a group similar of horde characters but i cannae get into that this is already long and obnoxious

[blackjackkent]

I don't know what I was expecting for Mizora's second entrance into camp, but it sure as hells wasn't this.

"Sorores surge. Testis esto pacti mei!"

Unlike the Latin-esque writing in Ketheric's journals back in the shadowlands, this actually is Latin, and means, "Arise, sisters. Be a witness of my covenant!"

And sure enough:

"Come, sisters! Be my testament! Notum sit in Baator!"

"Notum sit in Baator!" the new arrivals echo in tandem.

(This bit means "Be known in Baator!" - Baator being a term for the Nine Hells as a collective unit.)

"Holy hells," Wyll mutters.

Hector, who was expecting a bit more of a one-on-one practical conversation when Mizora said she wanted to talk, is a little thrown by this flamboyant arrival and the presence of several scantily clad devil women flanking him on either side. "Just... what are you up to?" he asks, shifting awkwardly.

"I come to bargain," Mizora says briskly. "The Hells demand witness."

"Enough, Mizora," Wyll snaps. "Where is my father? How do I save him?"

"How else?" Mizora answers. "We bargain. Sisters--"

The devils surrounding them begin to chant a soft repetitive phrase. "Infernus contractus te vocamus. Infernus contractus te vocamus. Infernus contractus te vocamus..."

(Google Translate renders this as "We call you the contracted hell," which doesn't make a ton of sense, but I'm guessing it's supposed to be something closer to, "We call you to a contract of the Hells," or possibly, "We call you, infernal contract.")

At Mizora's side, an enormous sheet of paper suddenly shimmers into existence, infused with letters of fiery, glowing ink.

"Your contract, Wyll," she says, mock-pleasantly. "Signed in blood, forged in fire, bound in bone - but not unbreakable."

"What are you proposing?" Hector asks warily.

"A life for a life," Mizora answers. "No contract is ended without sacrifice. The cost must be paid."

She lifts her arms and bursts of flame rise around all the devils in the circle, lifting them into the air.

"Wyll Ravengard," Mizora intones, her voice resonating with power. "A choice is before you. Option one - I show you the way to your father. I guarantee him no harm except that from you and your allies. And you pledge your soul to me and the archdevil Zariel in a pact eternal. Option two - I break your pact, and you are freed from your duty. Your father dies by his enemy's hand, and Baldur's Gate loses its greatest champion."

Absolute silence settles over the camp. She turns her head, fixing her eyes, glowing with infernal fire, on Wyll.

"Name your sacrifice."

"Bloody Zariel!" Hector can hear Karlach roar from outside the circle of flame that surrounds them. "I won't let her take Wyll!"

"Silence, Karlach!" Mizora snaps. Her eyes have not left Wyll's face.

He stares back at her, his face twisting with impotent rage. "Mizora, you arsehole!"

She smiles coldly. "Choose."

The most upsetting thing here, to be honest, is that Hector is given no option to let Wyll make the decision on his own. This is annoying not only from Hector's perspective but from mine, as this has been kind of a major character point for Hector - that he is a support to his friends in their hours of greatest choice, but that he does not take their agency from them.

Also, neither he nor I has any idea what to say here. This is a brutal decision to have to make, or to have to advise someone on. No matter what he says, Wyll will be miserable. No matter what he advises, Wyll very well might hate him for it.

But as he thinks it through... only one answer really crystallizes for him - and it is a somewhat selfish thought process, though selfish on Wyll's behalf as much as on his own.

He knows Wyll. He does not know Ravengard.

Wyll stands against the Absolute. Ravengard, as long as he has the parasite in his head, stands for it.

A man can live without a father. He himself grew up without one, thriving in the company of people not of his blood who nevertheless cared about him. But a man cannot live meaningfully with his soul stolen.

Ravengard, in surviving, would get a few decades more of life. Wyll, in surrendering, would suffer an eternity in Mizora's grasp.

Mizora makes clear that even if he does not agree, Wyll will keep his powers long enough to kill the Absolute and end this madness.

And Hector has seen Wyll in the few weeks since they broke the pact at Moonrise. He has seen a weight lifted from the younger man's shoulders - a hope for the future that was not there before. Hector cannot, in good conscience, take that away from him.

And Karlach, watching from beyond the flames, would say the same, in his place, and that is the final certainty.

"Break the pact, Wyll," he mutters. "You deserve your freedom."

Wyll closes his eyes and swallows tightly. "You damned wretch," he mutters, and it isn't clear if the epithet is directed at Hector, Mizora, or himself. "Father..." The word slips from him in a grief-stricken whisper.

Then his eyes open and he speaks rapidly, as if to make the decision before he can second-guess it. "Do it. Break the pact."

Mizora tips her head to one side, and then smirks slowly. "Fiat ita..." she says.

("Let it be so.")

The devils around them take up the chant. "Fiat ita. Anima ad Baator."

(This means, "Let it be so. Soul to Baator," which doesn't make a ton of sense in context and feels like maybe they didn't expect me to translate it. XD )

The glowing parchment at Mizora's side bursts into flame, crumbles to ash. The devils disappear back to the plane they came from. The ring of fire fades, and Mizora settles back to the ground.

She looks Wyll over with a thoughtful smirk.

"Didn't think you had it in you. Seems my boy's all grown up." She laughs brightly. "And don't go fussing about your father. You made your choice. You knew the terms."

She tips her head to one side; her eyes move from Wyll to Hector to Karlach and the others standing behind them. "You know what... I think I'll stick around." She snorts. "Not for the greater good, you understand. Just for the entertainment."

....And sure enough, she's just chilling next to Wyll's tent when we come out of the cutscene.

Ugh.

[prynnehesters]

More balding gay

I told my DM what I'm up to and he was like "wtf"

He always forgets I play games this chaotically

I'm on act 2 now I think as I went into the shadowlands

But before that, I went to the mountain pass

Laezel is my girlfriend who I haven't slept with (wtf)

Gale I'm lowkey stringing along

I took both of them (and astarion) to the githyanki creche and we ended up killing a bunch of them bcuz they had us go into the artifact and my guardian was like "yo their God is sus" and laezel had a realization moment

She also almost died to a machine that supposedly cures ppl but like it was gonna kill her I assume

She's shook up

Apparently halsin died when we were away (or the bear astarion sucked was him)

We went back to the Grove and found a secret passage

Also we killed the hag and ppl under her control and the person we were supposed to rescue (cuz we're stupid)

Anyways, we went to the shadowlands and suffered damage bcuz we had no light and then a drider came along and was like "hey come w us and goblins" and I was like "ok"

And then we had to kill harpers (rip) to prove we were w absolute

Then we made it to temple and I had to deceive the hell out of everyone

It worked

I gave astarion 3 more brain worms

We wandered the shadowlands

I killed fish ppl

I lost my save cuz I was being dumb and cocky and I encountered ppl who were too high level and had an actual tpk

There was an almost tpk and I got astarion to rez my party w withers

Withers shamed astarion for not having a partner when this happened

I have to go back and do more dumb shit tomorrow after I do some new years prep

I hate the shadowlands cuz astarion can't succ anyone

I also dropped off gale and laezel cuz wyll and shadowheart have more story in the shadowlands

Yeah