#so he just apologizes and wyll continues to try and please him

[voltaical-art]

im in agony. a little self indulgent but I think wyll deserves to be told he's loved and have a small breakdown about it

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can I get more bg3 yandere, maybe what starts the obsession with the reader? Punishments?

A/N: Yes, more yandere coming up! (Wasn’t sure if you were referring to just the baddies list I posted or the companions, so I went with the main companions this time.)

And apologies for the wait… This was one hell of a week.

Yandere!BG3: What Triggers Their Obsession 

Astarion: 

Astarion is drawn to your innocence. 

At first, he thinks it must be an act, for someone to be so kind and open around a vagrant group of misfits they just met. 

But once he understands that’s just who you are, he feels he must protect that innocence by taking it all for himself. 

After all, he deserves it, doesn’t he? After two hundred years of slavery, he finally gets to possess some kindness of his own. 

Because that’s what you’d show him, isn’t it? You’d love him, understand him, and treat him the way he so longs to be treated. And all he has to do… is make you his to get it. 

Ascended! Astarion: 

Ascended Astarion is drawn to your inner fire, the way you don’t submit when he demands you ‘bow’. 

Initially, he finds it rather amusing that such a helpless thing like you dare defy him. Then he becomes irritated before being overcome with righteous anger. How dare you continue to thwart his plans? You shall pay, indeed. 

He wants you begging, pleading on your knees for his mercy. He wants to be the only one with the power to grant such benevolence to you.  

You will know his name, you will know his power. Your insolence will not last long.

Gale: 

Gale is drawn to your inquisitive nature, how you always seem so fascinated by any knowledge he has to share. 

No one, not even his students, has ever looked up at him with those big doe eyes the way you do. 

You appreciate him, in a way no one’s ever appreciated him before. 

He’s always played second fiddle, to greater wizards, to his goddess, but not to you. Never to you. 

He needs you to need him. He wants your awe but should push come to shove, he’ll settle for your fear. 

Godhood! Gale: 

Godhood Gale finds you so impressively driven. Your bold choices and lack of apprehension call him to you. 

On one hand, he wants to empower you, to help you soar even further than your wildest dreams. On the other hand, he wants dominion over your confidence- he should be the one to grant it to you. You couldn’t possibly command your own destiny. He’s a God, after all, he should have reign of it. 

Just let him take control, he swears it’s only for your good. Gale would never overstep your boundaries. He swears on Mystra’s honor. 

Wyll: 

Wyll wants to protect and cherish you like he believes he’s always been destined to do. 

For him, he was always burdened with this great privilege of being a hero. And you, you are the thing that makes everything he’s ever endured or sacrificed all worth it. 

You need him to save you. Sure, you’re capable, and yes, you could make it on your own, but why make it harder than necessary? Why not just let the man who would lay down his life for you, honor you and take care of you for the rest of your days?

You’re so sweet. You’re such a light in these dark, dangerous times. Wyll will ensure you’re safely hidden away from all the danger that lurks beyond. 

If that means Wyll is all you know of the outside world, then so be it. 

Karlach: 

Karlach is drawn to your spunk, the conviction you must possess to keep on fighting.  

You remind her so much of her younger self, always eager, always ready for the next challenge. But alas, that’s what she fears. 

Her eagerness blindsided her to the truth about Gortash. She didn’t see what was coming until it was too late. She can’t let that happen to you. She won’t. 

Don’t you understand? No one else out there in the cruel, cruel world would tell you the truth. They are all self-serving and undeserving of your intentions. 

Karlach knows her conditions aren’t ideal, living in hell never is. But please, try to understand. 

A lifetime spent in hell at Karlach’s side is much, much safer than a world spent alone on the surface. 

Shadowheart: 

Shadowheart is drawn to your inexperience, your childlike innocence in which you believe all that she tells you. 

She was always being taught that obedience mattered over intelligence. She thought such a statement was wrong but then, you came waltzing into her life. 

You exemplify compliance. Every word, every thought she has you take to heart like gospel. 

For you, there shall be no gods, no goddesses, no Shar or Selune to worship. 

There will only be you and her. 

La’zel: 

La’zel, despite herself, is drawn to your kindness, your simplicity. 

She thinks you are weak, and undeserving of her affections, yet she feels the need to seize you and shield you all the same.  

Your flesh is soft, your heart is malleable, and your mind is guileless. Without her intervention, you would surely perish an otherwise avoidable fate. 

No. She must keep you away from the others, away from their grasp. 

It would be futile to try and navigate the world without her. 

[avocado-writing]

we need a rewrite of the tiefling party where tav can actually convince wyll to join the party and have fun please 🥹

notes: love love love writing for Wyll. he's such a sweetie! Implied bard reader but not explicit.

rating: T, but there will be a spicy part 2 coming up!

The party is lively and your head is swimming from the buzz of attention. That, and the small amount of wine you’ve had: not so much as to dull your senses but enough to make you merry. Warmed with Arkhen’s Hoard you take a break from the grateful tieflings and head out towards the familiar babble of the river. The further from camp you go the quieter your surroundings get, and you’re able to breathe a little more easily knowing there aren’t half a dozen children hanging on your every word. It’s lovely to be the centre of attention because you helped them, but a little overwhelming with all those eyes on you.

Of course, that’s not the only reason that you’ve come wandering over this way.

Wyll sits with his legs crossed on the bank, staring at the way the water dances under the moonlight. He seems at peace, the calmest he’s been since Mizora appeared and sprouted those horns for him; shoulders relaxed, tensionless. 

“Wondered where you were,” you say, quietly. You don’t want to make him jump after all. It hurts your heart to see the way that his body stiffens when he hears your voice. Ah: there’s the tension again. Nevertheless, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, an easy smile on his lips - but one with a hint of sadness. You’ve studied his face enough in camp in order to know when he’s trying to hide something. It makes your heart ache bitterly that he would try and hide it from you, though. 

“Thought I’d be able to sneak away. Should have known you’d be able to find me.”

You take a seat next to him in the grass. It’s a soft spot he’s managed to pick, not wet from its proximity to the river, but green and lush from its plentiful feeding. You lock eyes with him and press a hand to your chest, mock-wounded.

“Wyll! You make me sound like I’m a bloodhound tracking you down, not someone who cares about you checking in.”

He laughs, and you see him begin to lighten again. When he smiles this time, it’s sincere.

“That’s not what I meant. Apologies. Just that I’m not surprised you know me well enough to guess where I’d end up.”

“Down by the river,” you hum, fingers suddenly itching for the feel of a lute’s strings. 

“You’re always singing that, you know?”

“I am, it’s a good song. I’ve never once heard you complain about it.”

“I’m not complaining! I never would, I love to hear you sing. Since I joined you on this journey, my life has been filled with so much music. It’s been wonderful.”

You put your hands behind you and lean back on them, allowing your face to become level with his. He looks into your eyes and, this close, you can see his breath hitch a little when your fingers brush together.

“I could be persuaded to do an impromptu performance, but I’d need my favourite person in the front row to give me courage.”

“I’m sure that you don’t need me for that. Courage is the one thing you couldn’t possibly lack.”

“To be my muse, then.”

You know if you lifted your hand and felt his cheek, it’d be warm.

“Please, Wyll,” you continue, softly. “Please come and join us. Everybody wants you there. Me especially, if I’m being selfish.”

“Ah…” you can see he’s warring with himself. On one side of the argument, he longs to indulge you. On the other side…

“I’m not sure. I think people may find me off-putting.”

You furrow your brow.

“You? The single most charming man I’ve ever met?”

Another flash of shyness over his face. You can tell that he enjoys the compliment, but his self-doubt wins out.

“Perhaps I was, before the horns.”

“Oh, Wyll. Do you think anybody up there cares about those? A group of your friends and people you fought tooth and nail to protect? I know for a fact that Karlach wants to challenge you to a drinking game.”

“That seems like more of a reason to hide! I think she’d drink me under one of the tables,” Wyll grimaces, and smiles when you laugh at his silliness. He seems a little more open to the idea, but still not completely sold.

“I don’t know… just… the children…”

“The children who love you and hang on your every word? Umi won’t stop asking me where you are, and someone needs to keep Mol in line…”

“I doubt even the gods themselves can do that.”

When he chuckles you find yourself reaching out to cup his cheek, running your thumb over the sharp ridge that was raised there when Mizora cursed him. His eyes widen and glaze over before sliding closed, nuzzling into the gesture, soul laid bare to the sweetness of your touch. 

 “Nobody feels unsettled by you. Nobody is afraid of you.”

His lips fall apart, anticipating the way you reach in to kiss him.

It’s a soft kiss. Lips dancing slowly, a waltz, noses bumping together a little, his horns grazing your hairline. Your heart soars at it.

When it’s over you sit there and breathe together. Sharing the same air, letting your blood thrum through you in an intertwined heartbeat.

“Will you come and join us? Will you come and dance with me?” you ask.

Wyll loses the argument with himself.

“Yes.”

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

[momonica05]

Jack Jack - my tav for the "jack of all trades" achievement!

My urge to info dump about an oc won so now please, meet my son: Jack Jack (I don't know how to make a good blog post on tumblr, so I apologize if the images are a little too big)

JJ wasn't born a tiefling. He actually came from a family of humans, but he has no recollection of it outside of his father and grandparents, whom he hates with all his heart

At the age of 6, his father disobeyed his patron (for a good reason, but he doesn't know that, hehe). But instead of punishing his father directly, JJ was the target. He was turned into a Mephistopheles tiefling that day, and his family was horrified. He remembers the look of pure hatred and fear from his grandparents, shouting at him, saying he was now a devil. He doesn't remember his father's face, but he remembers his fingers, pointing at the door, and his husky voice "get out"

Since then, he had to live at the city of Baldur's Gate all by himself. He had some friends, partners, and even a mentor (which the dream visitor had taken form of)... but he never got back what he lost that day: love and identity

He spent a good portion of his life, mainly his adolescence, trying to "fit in". He even cut his horns off, which he regretted later down the road as he's now more confident in who he is. Beeing cursed by a devil at the age of 6, as one might imagine, was no easy feat. And aside from gaining an appearance that everyone deemed as "hellspawn", he also gained powers. Powers in which he can not control very well, but powers nonetheless (sorcerer wild magic)

After a whole life of stealing, performing, trying out magic and needing to run because uh oh you accidentally sumoned a troll in a bar! He... well, his life continued shit, but he never gave up. He had some not so trustworthy friends, but hey, as long as they're not a devil or a warlock, he's a very social guy!

Before he was captured by the mindflayers, he was actually planning on traveling around! He wanted to get all his skills worked on. Maybe study a bit more of his magic, as a wizard.... maybe becoming a bard with his musical talent... hell, maybe he'd finally accept his calling for the rogue life! The opportunities were endless!

That is until, of course, he got a tadpole in his mind... but eh, he was planning on traveling one day anyways, so why not use this as an excuse? (definitely not frightened at all haha what do you mean?)

So far, he's really enjoying his adventure! Here's what he thinks about each companion:

Lae'zel: heh, she wants to kill me! (nervously sweating and trying to do what she says because he's terrified, but also really likes her interrogation methods!)

Shadowheart: she's hiding something. She ain't fooling me...

Astarion: he's also hiding something, never EVER trust the snobs from the upper city.... unless, of course, you want their money/sleep with them. (thinks Astarion is a less hot version of him, with how similar they act. Except JJ actually has a soft spot for children and little rascals, so he'll always help them. He's more chaotic good)

Gale: i really liked him and wanted him to teach me how to do magic safely, but never mind! He just ate my magic spear, which doesn't seem very safe...

Wyll: he makes me angry with how he challenges my morals, okay? you shouldn't be nice! You're a warlock! (has a mental breakdown watching Wyll get transformed like he did and wonders if his father was a good man like Wyll all along)

Karlach: I was deadset on killing her... turns out she's not a devil! just a person like me! i really like her (wants to kill Zariel and enter rage like Karlach one day)

BONUS:

He knew damn well what he was getting into but opened the door anyways and said he was gonna write a smut about it (he's batshit insane)

Anyways... I guess that's it. That's all I have for now, I haven't progressed much into the game... sorry if his information is a little scattered around, I don't have it organized and probably didn't mention somethings (he chose his name, for example)

[baldursgat3]

this is exclusively for the anon that said they missed me ilusm it's hard to balance the desire to write with having an adult life lmao but little comments do mean a lot so part 4 of my enemies to lovers is here 😘

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~*~*~

“I don't know how they expect me to be any different!” Astarion said loudly, pacing a trench into the dirt as he bemoaned his plight. Halsin and Wyll listened sympathetically while Gale attempted to act as though he wasn't just there for the drama of it all.

“I apologized! Me! And they threw it back in my face!” He was angry and frustrated. It took a lot for him to apologize, it was something he likely would've never done were it not for the influence of the people around him now. He barely knew how to give a proper apology and he thought he'd done a rather good job. And you just yelled at him for it.

He ran his hands through his curls, displacing a bit of energy, but certainly not enough to actually calm him down. “What am I supposed to do? What do they want from me? Am I supposed to go back in time? They won't be happy unless I'm dead, so what's the point!?”

“It's not an easy situation to be in.” Wyll spoke up, watching Astarion as he anxiously fidgeted with his hair. “But do you really have to do anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean… just avoid them, can't you?” He shrugged awkwardly, tilting his head at him. “If you're not going to get along just don't engage with them.”

Astarion stared at him with a blank expression. The idea of simply letting the situation lie had not crossed his mind, truly. You were here, you were angry with him, and he wasn't allowed to kill you. He didn't know what to do with you, but surely he had to do something.

“Now, this may be a big ask,” Halsin started, almost tepidly. “But you could always just be kind to them anyway. It could go a long way towards repairing the image they have in their head of you.”

Astarion scoffed, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “Please. You know who you're talking to. I barely do kindness when I like people. I'm not going to go belly up for them when they're yelling at me for something that wasn't my fault in the first place.”

“Maybe that's the problem.” Gale shrugged, cocking his head. “Every time you deflect the blame its only going to make them angrier.”

“It's not my fault!”

Wyll reached out to rest a hand on Astarion's shoulder, receiving a half hearted glare, despite the vampire making no move to get away. “It's not your fault that Cazador forced you to do the things he did, no. And we can discuss whether or not it's fair for them to insist that it is. The fact remains that, in their mind, you and Cazador share the blame for what happened to them.”

“If you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a terrible job.”

“What I'm saying is that they don't know you.” He continued, his face still soft. Almost like he was trying to rationalize with a child. “They're angry because all they know of you is betrayal. Really, Halsin could be onto something.”

A look of disgust plastered itself onto Astarion's face as he finally pulled back just a step. “Oh and why don't I do a little dance for them too? Write them an apology song?”

Wyll sighed, knowing he was fighting an uphill battle here. “Fine then. Don't be nice to them. Be nice to other people where they can see. Put a different picture in their mind than the one they already have.”

“You want me to put on an act?”

“Are you being deliberately stubborn on purpose or is this really just who you are?” Wyll quirked an eyebrow, an unamused expression on his face.

Astarion only grinned, holding his hands up. “Guilty as charged.” His attitude dropped back into irritation as he shifted his weight. “I'm not going to wander around the camp pretending to be you so they can think I'm a nice person. Besides, putting on some kind of show isn't going to give them an idea of who I am anyway.”

“He has a point.” Gale interjected, entirely unconcerned with the look Wyll shot him. “They won't know the real him if he's just trying to be nice for show. They'll be disappointed when they learn he really is just an asshole.”

“You are not helping, wizard.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “Why should I bother trying to prove them wrong anyway? It's their fault for putting the blame on me.”

“Do you not blame the Gur for putting you in the position Cazador found you in?” Halsin spoke up again, gentler this time.

Astarion almost winced at the question, not liking the implications. “That's different!”

“It is, you're right.” He was trying to take it easy, he knew if the vampire spooked, he'd close right back up and the conversation would be over. “But do you not see the similarities? You both found your way to Cazador through the actions of someone else.”

“They tried to beat me to death! I didn't hurt Fey!”

“Didn't you?”

Astarion's mouth shut tight as he glared at Halsin. He knew the druid was right. That didn't mean he had to like it. “It's not the same. I didn't know he was keeping them. I certainly didn't know he was… eugh… playing with them.”

“We're talking in circles, Astarion. Just listen for a moment, please.” Halsin gave him a sad smile. “Whether you meant to or not, the fact remains that, in their story, you occupy the same position the Gur did in yours.

You both found yourself in an undesirable situation that ended with Cazador tormenting you for decades. Just because their torment was different doesn't mean they suffered less. The heart has no metrics or measurements for sorrow, you're both entitled to your pain. But these moments, this suffering that extends past Cazador's death, these moments are irreplaceable.”

“What are you getting at…?” Astarion asked, not really enjoying the logic he was being presented with.

Halsin’s smile got just a bit warmer as he reached out to touch his arm. “The two of you are remarkably similar. But you've had months away from Cazador to decompress from all the anger you felt.”

“Indeed.” Gale cut in. “I'm not sure you remember but you weren't exactly sunshine and rainbows when we first met.”

“I'm aware.” Astarion snapped as Halsin sighed. “The fact remains that I tried to apologize. They're the one that threw it back in my face. Even if I tried to be nice, they just want me dead!”

“That's what I'm saying, Astarion.” The druid tried again. “They just escaped. This is their first night of freedom. Give it time. But in the meantime, a few acts of kindness might go a long way towards changing their mind.”

Astarion glowered at them for a second, clearly trying to think up some argument. After a moment or two he gave up though, throwing his hands up in defeat with an irritated “Fine. Fine. I'll try to be nicer.” The word almost sounded foreign on his tongue, the way he said it.

He turned around, stalking off to his tent to sulk for the evening. “To a person who hates my fucking guts because all the goody two shoes say I should.”

“That's the spirit!” Wyll called after him, shaking his head. It was hard enough coping with one moody vampire. Now they had two and they didn't even get along. It was interesting, if nothing else.

~*~*~

While you weren't particularly in the mood for chatting, not even the gods themselves could've kept you shut away in your little tent. You bundled yourself up by the campfire, obviously attempting to shut the rest of the world out. Karlach had gone off to do her own thing to give you some space. And so, you turned back to the book you had been reading.

It wouldn't have been terribly interesting if it weren't the first book you touched in two centuries. It had been so long and you were beyond ecstatic to read anything again, regardless of the actual quality of the content. You were so thoroughly absorbed in your book that you about jumped out of your skin when someone spoke to you.

“Is it decent?” Why the hell was Astarion back, trying to talk to you? Wasn't he off having some kind of guys night? You scowled at him, not responding. He continued anyway. “I had no idea what you liked. I just… remembered you said you liked to read.”

That caught your attention. For probably the first time since you were freed, you looked at him with something other than a seething contempt. Confusion and curiosity took its place now. He had given you those books?

He looked upset and uncomfortable and he kept throwing looks towards his tent, though he lingered. You didn't really want him to stay anyway, you had to respond. You couldn't exactly lie and say you hated them when he had found you completely lost in one.

So you just let out a small huff and turned your attention back to the book. “They're fine.” Your voice was curt and flat but not angry. It was, well… It was a start.

He didn't respond either, simply continuing his brisk walk back into his tent. You peeked up to watch him shut the flap, sealing himself off from the world. Good. You didn't want to see him anyway.

Besides, you were angry. That's right. How did he remember you liked to read but he couldn't remember your name? No, he was a terrible person. One little gift of some measly, bargain bin romance novels and a paint by numbers adventure story? That was hardly enough to even begin considering forgiveness.

Why were you even thinking about the word? You had sworn long, long ago - back when it was just you and Sebastian in that rotten prison - you had sworn you would hate Astarion until your last undying breath. Forgiveness wasn't a thought that should've even made it onto your radar.

You stared at the book in your hands, struggling now to continue reading. Your anger bubbled up inside of you, making it difficult. How were you supposed to keep reading this, knowing where it came from? Knowing who had given it to you?

But you wanted to keep reading. Even if it wasn't a great book, it was something. You tried to ignore the anger, to ignore the little voice that kept reminding you who had given it to you. A smaller voice popped up suddenly. Maybe we should just let some of the anger go?

No. No you were still furious, how could you even imagine being anything less? This must've been his game. He did this on purpose didn't he? Your hands trembled as they gripped the book tightly. He gave you the books, knowing how excited you'd be, and then he'd ruin that excitement. That had to be it. Gods he was such a monster.

Still… you were so close to the ending. Go back to thinking Karlach gave them to you, it's fine. It worked decently enough. You could push the anger down enough to power through the rest of the book. It wasn't quite the same though, your anger had tainted it. You weren't enjoying it anymore. He had even taken reading from you, how cruel.

~*~*~

Astarion sighed, staring at the roof of his tent as he laid out on his bedroll. Had that been a nice thing to do? This was already fucking impossible. How did people like Wyll do this all the time?

Honestly, he had secretly been a little excited to see you reading one of the books he'd given you. It's was perhaps even a bit of a secret to himself.

He didn't remember much, it was hard to keep a thousand victims straight, but he remembered why you were at the tavern in the first place. He remembered feeling a pang of guilt when you had told him that you were there in an attempt to branch out and be more social. It hadn't felt great, knowing that if only you'd been less social, perhaps you would've lived a long happy life.

The books were his first attempt at some kind of peace offering. Before you had even woken up, he'd slipped in and dropped off a few that he figured were generic enough to appeal to anyone.

And he hadn't missed the look of confusion he'd gotten. It was an improvement from the boiling anger he'd been receiving. Maybe it had been a good move? Maybe it would open the doorway to more conversations? He could ask you what kind of books you actually liked. He had amassed a decent collection for himself over the last several months.

He liked reading. He had never been barred from it, when he had nothing better to do at least. He'd spent plenty of time trying to use books to escape the nightmare of life under his former master. Perhaps this was his in road with you?

Maybe the boys had been right. Maybe a little kindness did go a long way. It really wasn't even that hard. He had nailed that interaction as far as he was concerned.

He closed his eyes with a small sigh. A part of him hated that he had ever suggested you tag along with them. It was making his life so much more difficult. He had just killed his tormentor, shouldn't he be on cloud nine?

Still, things were beginning to look up, he figured. Tomorrow he'd mention his collection and ask if there was something you might like. Maybe he could even stop by a bookshop and-

What? No. Gods, don't get carried away. You still hated him. Just because he'd done one nice thing didn't mean that was all gone. He hated that he even cared. He wouldn't have cared before all of this Absolute nonsense. That's what he got for making friends and caring about people.

Take it easy. He would just ask you if you wanted a certain type of book, that's all. Something small. You couldn't get mad over something like that. What could possibly go wrong?

[wolfram-everhearth]

BG3 Act 1 - The Grove

Act 1, Part 2 - Playthrough headcannons/notes/romcom nonsense. Here's the Carrd page - looks nicer.

The Tieflings

The next day, the group discovers that Wolfram is an unnaturally heavy sleeper. Lae'zel shaking him and shouting that they're being attacked finally does the trick. He apologizes, saying he'd gotten used to the safe city life. Gale seems curious and asks why a cook would be used to anything else. Wolfram laughs it off and tries to change the subject. Astarion says not to worry. He doesn't mind waking him up. He should sleep as long and as deeply as he can. Wolfram puts on a fake smile and thanks him, making a mental note to get back in fighting form quickly. Despite that, they manage to get an early start on finding a healer.

The party comes across a group of goblins attacking some humans as they try to enter a stronghold. A young man with a rapier leaps down from the wall and into the pack of goblins. Wolfram is interested to see him using warlock spells and thinks this hero may be a good ally. The older warlock gestures to the group that he's going to help and starts running toward the goblins, throwing eldritch blasts to push the stragglers away so the other warlock isn't overwhelmed. The rest of the party groans but follows him - except Gale, who is happy to help those in need and runs up the hill to better aim his firebolts.

Once the fight is over, Astarion immediately starts looting the corpses as Wyll introduces himself to the group. He refers to himself as the “Blade of Frontiers” and thanks them for their aid. Wolfram says he'd heard of him in Baldur’s Gate, but is glad to put a face to the name.

The tadpole connects them. He sees Wyll pursuing his mark through Avernus. Wolfram is impressed with the younger warlock's skills and asks if he'd like to join their party in exchange for help with the devil. Wyll smiles and says he'd be happy to join. His priority must be killing Karlach, but afterward, he'll help search for a healer outside the grove.

They head inside the gate where they see an argument about to escalate. Wolfram tries to convince Aradin and Zevlor to cool off. They just fought goblins, they don't need to fight each other. The older man nods and relaxes his stance. Aradin isn’t backing down and looks like he’s about to hit him. Wolfram smiles at Aradin, putting a comforting hand on the smaller human’s shoulder, and calmly says it’s never easy to lose friends. He should take some time to collect himself after the loss. Aradin is shocked at the patient reaction and walks off with a confused look. Wolfram can tell by the looks of his companions that they expected him to hit the young man. The warlock shrugs at them, saying that was nothing compared to his average night in the Gate.

Wolfram talks to Zevlor. He asks what the little gang of arseholes was up to. Zevlor can’t help but smirk at the newcomer’s ability to bluff. He thanks them all for their aid and explains the tense situation in the grove. Wolfram promises to talk to Kagha about letting the Tieflings stay. Astarion, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart aren’t pleased. Gale tells them they’re already in the area so why not try? It’s always good to make allies where they can. The wizard smiles at Wolfram and nods with approval. Astarion and Shadowheart are alright with it so long as they get out before more goblins arrive. Lae’zel says she doesn’t really care so long as she gets the location of the creche. Wyll eyes the group wearily, stating they should help because it’s simply the right thing to do. Wolfram nudges the other warlock and mutters that he needs to fill him in on some of the group dynamics later. Wyll chuckles and says he can see they’ll get on fine.

As the group continues into the grove, Wolfram can’t help but overhear a loud conversation between some tiefling siblings. He impulsively asks them what's going on. Astarion groans audibly and Lae’zel rolls her eyes. How did the most distractable warlock on Faerûn become their leader? The group walks off to watch the tiefling children train, except Wolfram and Gale. Lia explains that she wants to stay and help fight while Rolan wants to leave to start his apprenticeship. Wolfram agrees with Lia - the strong have a duty to protect the weak. Gale is curious and asks which wizard he’ll be training under. Rolan starts bragging about Loroakkan. Wolfram snorts and casually puts a hand over his face to stop himself from laughing. Gale asks if it’s the wizard living in Ramazith’s Tower. He says he heard Loroakkan is a ‘bit of a cad’. Rolan dismisses the claim. Gale says he'd be grateful for an introduction then. Wolfram gives Gale a meaningful look and shakes his head no.

Rolan and his siblings walk away. Gale smirks “Well, now you have my curiosity. Would you care to share the source of your amusement?” Wolfram chuckles “I’m pretty sure Loroakkan was the wizard I threw out of my place a few nights ago. He mentioned Ramazith tower and the lad was wearing very expensive-looking robes. Not the usual clientele.” Gale smiles curiously “Oh? I do love a bit of gossip about fellow academics. What did he do?” The warlock grins “In addition to talking down to everyone? After his business was concluded with some mercenary types he overindulged and then propositioned a few of the lasses from the brothel next door. They were just trying to have a meal after their shift. They’d politely declined and he kept pestering them. The man has no respect for the working class and I can’t abide that sort of behavior.” Wolfram chuckles “I may have been a bit more forceful than necessary. Looked like he was about to attack me until he saw some Fists standing outside.” Gale tuts disapprovingly “It’s a shame the rumors are true. Still, he may be a talented mage even if he’s an insufferable person and unfortunately, my options so far from Waterdeep are slim. But thank you for the information, Wolfram. At least I’ll know what to expect.” The warlock shrugs but decides to not pry into the mage’s business. They catch up with the group as Wyll is introducing them to some of the tieflings.

Wolfram does his best to inspire the kids, but he’s sad they need to fear for their lives so young. He says he’s going to kill all the goblins himself so they won’t need to be afraid. Wyll smiles and claps him on the back. Gale gives him an odd look, as if he’s not sure he was being truthful or telling them what he thought they wanted to hear. The others glare daggers at him so it’s clear he’ll need to win them over.

Wolf gives Guex some advice too, but he can’t resist the urge to tease him a bit for calling out his moves.

Wolfram then notices the oxen and has a quick word with them as the group stares at him in disbelief at his lack of focus. The warlock returns with a pocket of gold and trinkets to sell. He says it’s always a good idea to talk to animals and he’s not going to stop so they’d better get used to it. Astarion is convinced by the gold. Then Wolfram mentions they need to steer clear, pun intended. There's something strange about one of them. He can't tell if it's a druid or some other kind of shapeshifter but it's not a proper animal and it is very grouchy.

Astarion yawns and starts to leave, “I trust you lot can manage without me? All that fighting has tired me out. I’ll be at camp.” Wyll smiles and picks up his bags “Great. You can show me where to set up my tent.” Astarion glances at the monster hunter wearily then gives his best smile “Of course darling - you can do that while I go hunting… for a um deer or boar or what have you.” Wyll eyes the pale man with red eyes and quirks an eyebrow in suspicion “So long as it’s boars you’re killing I wish you luck.” The two leave.

They find Zorru and Lae’zel asks him about the creche by terrifying the tiefling into submission. Wolfram angrily tells her to go back to camp or remain quiet. She’s threatening people needlessly. He'll get her the information. She’s annoyed but remains quiet, crossing her arms and glaring at him. The warlock apologizes to Zorru, who immediately gives them the location of the patrol. Wolfram thanks him as the scared man runs off.

After Zorru leaves, Lae’zel angrily tells Wolfram the last time a subordinate talked to her that way she ate tongue stew for dinner. The warlock can’t help but laugh in her face before explaining he only takes orders from one person and she’s not going to react well if he finds a new master. Especially one who lacks diplomacy and has no regard for the well-being of others. He’ll treat Lae’zel with the respect he treats every comrade but she’s not entitled to anything more. Shadowheart and Gale grin, but keep quiet. The gith glares, makes a clicking noise and huffs off back toward camp. Wolfram asks Shadowheart if she can go with her and keep an eye on her so she doesn't return to traumatize more tieflings. The cleric begrudgingly agrees but tells him to focus and find a healer.

A Spark

Wolfram and Gale continue exploring the grove. The wizard comments on the druidic magic and general sense of unease. The warlock is impressed he can sense the ambient magic so easily. He asks if Gale knows much about druid magic. The wizard says he doesn’t practice it himself but has read quite a bit on the subject if he’s interested in hearing about it. Wolfram enthusiastically says he’d be happy to learn what Gale knows. They walk around atop the wall - Wolf assessing the defensive capabilities of the grove as the wizard excitedly nerds out about magic, surprised that the warlock doesn’t grow tired of hearing him talk.

They come to an area with vendors and meet Auntie Ethel. Wolfram is immediately becomes very submissive and polite to her. Afterward, Gale curiously asks why his demeanor changed so much. The warlock glances back to make sure she’s not watching “That was most definitely a fey. What kind I know not… but she may be of use so I wanted to be on her good side. They can be a bit fickle, especially if offended.” Gale looks surprised “Oh! How could you tell?” Wolfram laughs, “Experience… and I may have had help. Let's keep looking around though. I’d like a cure option that’s less risky than a githyanki creche or unknown fey.”

They find a goblin, Sazza, in a cage being threatened by a tiefling woman with a crossbow. Wolfram steps in front of the prisoner and talks Arka out of killing her like that - it won't bring anyone back or make her feel better. Gale watches the exchange with admiration.

Afterward, the wizard says the standoff reminds him of a similar one at a tavern in Waterdeep. He very enthusiastically and with great showmanship, as if trying to impress Wolfram, recounts a confrontation at The Yawning Portal in which he calmed folks down by offering a round of drinks.

Wolfram grins “I wouldn't have thought you the tavern-dwelling type. Not with all your talk of towers and cats.” Gale scoffs “I contain multitudes. Besides, a tavern is an excellent place to overhear the most interesting conversations - thus turning a pint with colleagues into an educational endeavor.” The warlock grins “That's actually what I like about them as well! Also, an easy way to find the next ruin to explore or monster to slay.” Gale smirks “So that's why you run a bar.” Wolfram replies smugly “No one ever thinks the guy pouring their drinks is listening.” He smiles awkwardly “I do enjoy the work itself - just wish it paid better. I'm used to a comfortable standard of living after all.” Gale chuckles. “Alright hero, you certainly make more sense to me with this new information.”

The warlock flushes a bit at the title but responds humbly “I think the ‘hero’ designation may be reserved for our ‘Blade of Frontiers’.” He smirks “...Although, while I didn't give myself a title - I must confess I once had a similar lifestyle. Not in the Gate but… well anyroad, I need some new armor or I won't be saving anyone. Alright handsome, we should - ” Gale scoffs “So it appears you can give others cheeky nicknames but won't allow them for yourself?” Wolfram is confused “Cheeky? Like a joke? When did I give anyone a -” Gale stares at him pointedly with a smirk “Deny all you want, I'm merely pointing out the hypocrisy.” Wolf is completely lost “Huh?”. Gale shrugs “It's alright I suppose. I can take a bit of teasing. I have a delightful sense of humor after all. - Ah, this fellow seems to be a blacksmith.” Wolfram scratches his head in confusion as they walk towards the stall.

They chat with Dammon. He says he’s a smith but complains about not having the proper equipment. Wolfram says his craftsmanship is very good anyroad. He'd love to see what the tiefling can do with a full forge. The warlock asks if he has any light armor that would fit him. Dammon looks him over then rummages through a trunk, producing a thick padded jacket “I made this for a half-orc assassin before we fled. With some adjustments, it should be passable. Unfortunately, that's the best I can do, but I'll give you a discount for the shorter length.” Gale finds a place to stand out of the way, pretending to read a scroll while Wolfram removes his worn jacket, riddled with holes and slashes, revealing a sleeveless undershirt and heavily scarred arms. As the warlock tries on the new armor Dammon bawks at his scars “Hells…are you a soldier or something?” Wolfram laughs “Let's go with ‘something’. I’d tell you you should see the other guys but they're dead or on another plane of existence.” Dammon chuckles and takes out a heavy needle and thread “Well, I suppose you’ll have some more goblins to bloody soon enough with the way things are going.”

As Dammon works, Wolfram glances over at Gale “I see you bought a new spell scroll to memorize.” The wizard nods behind the parchment he's staring at intently. “Well of course. Our um… condition. It necessitates I re-memorize some of the basics.” Wolfram smirks “You're very impressive, you know?” Gale scoffs, head peeking out from behind the side of the scroll “I am aware, but thank you. Although I hardly think learning a 2nd level spell should be considered as such.” The warlock grins smugly “I meant because you're reading it upside down. Quite the skill.” Gale flushes and retreats back behind the scroll “Y-yes, well it's useful to be able to read from any direction.” Wolfram represses a laugh. He'd swear something flashed behind the scroll, but it must have been a trick of the light…

After Dammon adjusts his new coat, Wolfram smiles “Thank you! I appreciate your time. If we all manage to make it to Baldur's Gate I'll send lots of new clients your way.” Dammon pockets the gold and then shakes the warlock’s hand “With those goblins on the road and the druids growing less hospitable daily, I'm not sure how likely that will be… but I wish you both well.” Wolfram looks around, making sure there are no others in earshot “We have a more pressing matter, but after that, I’d like to help you all with the goblins. I’ve just got some friends that will need convincing.” Gale smiles, pleasantly surprised that he was being truthful to the children earlier “Is that so, Wolfram? I couldn't agree more.” Dammon smiles “Truly?! Well, we certainly need it. Thank you.”

Reality Sets In

The mages walk around a bit more, talking to the locals and trading, but the more tieflings Wolfram sees the more he thinks about how dangerous it is for them to be around regular people with ceremorphosis just days away. The warlock decides he needs a moment to collect himself and uses the excuse that he's going to scout ahead while Gale finishes up there. The wizard invites himself along anyway. 🤣

After they leave the grove, Wolfram can’t help but admit to just how much having a worm in his skull is freaking him out. Gale asks why he was trying to hide it. The wizard had certainly voiced his own concerns the night before. The warlock explains he's trying to put on a brave face for the group because they need a leader. Despite his current profession, this sort of thing comes naturally to him. For some reason, people tend to assume he’s in charge wherever he goes so he does have… prior experience. Not that he's the only qualified one among them, but he thinks the group needs someone who can give orders that don't involve killing or torturing everyone they meet. Gale says he’s pleased with his diplomatic nature and grateful that he’s taken it upon himself to keep the more… problematic personalities under control.

The wizard says he thinks it would be good to take their minds off the tadpole for a while. He says he hardly knows anything about Wolfram. What are his hobbies and interests? The warlock is a bit weary of opening up but pleased that Gale wants to help him calm down. He says he's grateful for any sort of ‘distraction’ the wizard can provide, but Gale doesn't pick up on the flirtation so he moves on. Wolfram says he was born in Baldur's Gate but grew up in a small village and only moved back about five years ago. As for hobbies… he likes to come up with new recipes. Gale does too and says maybe they can make dinner for the camp together. What else does he like to do? The warlock says he enjoys practicing with different types of weapons. Especially longswords and rapiers. Gale says his sword skills are very impressive for a caster. Wolfram beams and thanks him. Says he learned the blade first. Otherwise, as far as interests, he doesn’t really have much free time to pursue anything. He doesn't have as many close friends as he used to so with what little free time he has he likes going on walks around town. He chats up folks who seem friendly. While he likes people, he enjoys talking to animals the most. Baldurian cats are especially entertaining. Gale is excited to hear that and mentions he misses his own feline companion. He hopes she’s not too worried about him.

Gale asks if Wolfram has any intellectual pursuits - other than reading books that he finds in old ruins. The warlock explains that his parents didn't value formal education very much and that he struggled to learn despite his desire to. They eventually gave up on him and had him work at their inn instead of bothering with the schoolhouse. Gale frowns at this and suggests he may have simply needed a better teacher. He’d seen plenty of apprentices who simply needed a bit of extra attention in the classroom to thrive. Wolfram frowns in contemplation then says he's probably right. He can read the common tongue but had to teach himself. It was difficult but worth the effort. He'd been content with his simple life in the Gate but did enjoy reading about other places.

Then Wolfram, having a sudden unexpected desire to impress the wizard, mentions that he can speak Sylvan fluently. He can read a fair bit of it as well. Gale is pleasantly surprised, saying he’d only met a few pixies himself but their language is beautiful. He knows a small amount. Enough to ask for directions at least - should he ever have the fortune to venture into the Feywilds. The warlock smirks, saying he'd be happy to teach him more. Gale beams excitedly.

Wolfram thinks to himself that he's not quite ready for anyone to know too much about his life before returning to the Gate, but in time he may tell Gale. He’s finding the wizard to be surprisingly easy to talk to.

Gale casually asks if he's got anyone waiting for him back at the Gate. Wolfram says his family is long gone but he had a few people that may be worried about him.

The warlock ponders “Well, I had some friends I took the odd job from. The bar had its regulars of course. I suppose they’ve been missing their grog the past few days. Then there was a madam who checked in on me quite often.” Gale looks a bit disappointed “Oh. I see.” Wolfram chuckles, pleased with the wizard’s reaction “Because I saved her daughter from an ogre. She liked to let me know when the talented bard would be playing in their lobby.” Gale lightly blushes, embarrassed at his assumption “Ah. It’s a great thing to support the arts. I'm sure she appreciated your patronage as well. It sounds as if you had an impact on quite a few lives. While you claim no close connections - I’d warrant your absence is felt.” The warlock smirks, asking coyly “Thank you. I hope you’re right. And you? Surely you don’t have a whole arcane tower to yourself.” Gale frowns, nodding sadly, “Yes, my assistant Tara has likely worried herself sick. I hate disappointing her and seem to do it often of late.” Wolfram smiles, happy to detect no hint of romance surrounding this ‘Tara’. He reassuringly pats the wizard’s shoulder “I promise, despite my own brief moment of doubt - we will do everything we can to survive this. You’ll get back to her soon. Worm-free!” Gale nods contemplatively "Survive the worms…yes." The wizard quickly puts back on a cheery countenance “I must say your hopeful attitude is a joy to be around. It’s almost enough to convince me everything will be alright. Funny, that.” Wolfram chuckles. Gale gives a genuine smile “And with that… in the future, I do hope you feel comfortable speaking with me if the stress of leadership threatens to overwhelm you. I may not have much experience with that particular burden, but at the very least I am confident in my ability to tell a joke or distract you with a story.” The warlock smiles warmly “Thanks handsome, I appreciate it. Truly.” Gale cringes at the nickname but lets it go.