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talenlee · 6 months

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Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#DnD 4e #Dungeons &amp; Dragons #Games

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mumms-the-word · 6 months

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Shadow Curse Events Pt. 2

Harpers, druids, and the battle against Ketheric

So in Part 1, I talked about Ketheric’s descent into Sharran zealotry and his attacks against all Selûnite faithful and anyone who so much as breathed a bad word about him. The TLDR is that Ketheric didn’t just become a follower of Shar, he basically became the Prophet-General of her new dark army, her Chosen, establishing new teachings and protocols for what defined a Dark Justiciar. It got so bad, and he became so powerful, that a leader of the Selûnite resistance, Ketheric's own master mason Morfred, made a deal with Raphael to take out his Justiciars just to hopefully give the Harpers a chance.

Because, to no one's surprise, all of this murder and fearmongering has captured the attention of the Harpers, who feel the need to step in and restore some balance.

The rest of this post is basically going to be about the Harper-druid battle against Ketheric and the siege of Reithwin, culminating in him getting sealed up in his tomb. Buckle up and be prepared for a couple of graphic war things (cw: animal death). Part 3 will be about the first few days of the shadow curse itself, because I just find that eerie and fascinating.

Full deep dive under the cut! Super long post ahead :'>

———

The moment is nigh; war has been brewing, and now it overflows. When Ketheric turned us toward Shar, I followed him - in appearance, if not in heart. This is my home, and I would not be removed from it, no matter what. I watched at a distance as the darkness here grew; as Ketheric's grief brought him farther and farther from life itself. As he gathered his army, I prayed for his defeat. As the Harpers march upon our little village - our little, beautiful village - I can only hope Ketheric will be felled at last, and Reithwin can begin to heal from this nightmare.

Let me briefly set the stage. Reithwin Town is under the governance of Ketheric Thorm, former Selûnite-turned-Chosen-of-Shar. All Selûnite worship has been driven underground. Dark Justiciars train in some elusive location outside and beneath town, only to return in order to interrogate the citizens of Reithwin about their loyalties to Shar and to Ketheric. Bodies are hanging in the square as an example to those who might think about dissenting or professing their faith in Selûne. People are going missing or being executed every day, and Ketheric's desire to expand Shar's influence beyond the borders of Reithwin is only growing stronger. Rumors abound that he's already completely destroyed a nearby village, another Selûnite refuge called Moonhaven. And now, the citizens of Reithwin hear whispers on the wind that the Harpers will soon arrive from the east...and they're bringing an army.

If a citizen were to wish to flee, they'd be nearly out of luck. The Harpers are coming from the east, but Baldur's Gate lies in the west, and the leadership in Baldur's Gate is already suspicious. Ketheric has drawn the attention of Grand Duke Eltan, the founder of the Flaming Fist and the good-aligned general who aided the heroes of BG1 (like Jaheira) during the Sarevok crisis. He's heard whispers of a Sharran enclave and has ordered a scout to go and investigate. That scout is Art Cullagh.

Incidentally, in the last post I suggested that these events are happening either between 1371-1374 or between 1396-1399. We don't know when Grand Duke Eltan died, so either theory still holds water (pick whichever you like best), but I do think his involvement moves the needle a little more towards the 1371-1374 theory. Eltan has just wrapped up the Sarevok adventure with Jaheira and the other heroes in 1368 and was dealing with other issues in 1369. He would still be in the height of his power as a leader of Baldur's Gate and the Grand Marshal of the Flaming Fist in the early 1370s. So he would have a vested interest in trying to maintain peace in his city, and that includes investigating rumors of civil unrest and strange darkness in a town just up the river from him to make sure that whatever is happening there doesn't come downriver.

Eltan sends Art Cullagh, a lieutenant/officer of the Flaming Fist (and virtuoso with a lute, as we well know). I won't post images of his orders here, since it's a letter most of us have likely read when trying to fix the shadow curse. But essentially, he's ordered to take lodgings in Last Light Inn and begin his investigation in the House of Healing to confirm rumors of corruption and Sharran influence in town. We know he attempts to fulfill these commands because he's seen at the inn and later his lute is left behind at the House of Healing.

Shadow Vestige: You see a man drain his tankard in an inn as he listens to a Flaming Fist play the lute. He's better than his uniform might suggest.

Around the same time that Art is preparing to travel down and begin investigating, the Harpers are already at work gathering an army. They're not just making Ketheric their convenient enemy—they're declaring all-out war.

They've gathered their evidence (after interrogating locals and possibly attempting to assassinate Ketheric from afar) and now they're ready to take the fight to him directly. But they need backup. So they write to the Emerald Enclave (not to be confused with the Emerald Grove) to arrange an alliance. Ketheric is going against nature, after all, and who better to call on for aid in preserving nature than the Emerald Enclave?

[The first few inches of this scroll are written in formal, elaborate script.] To the Emerald Enclave, and those deemed worthy to see this record, greetings from Those Who Harp. Know ye that the one known as Ketheric Thorm, a paladin of Shar, is guilty of crimes against body and spirit. They include, but are not limited to Murder, Slavery, and Desecration of Temples Most Holy. Let our intent be known: an alliance between the Harpers and the Emerald Enclave. United, we may end Thorm's reign of terror. The High Harpers eagerly await your good word.

The Emerald Enclave is massive, since it basically serves as the high council and umbrella organization for all druidic circles and groves that exist in Faerûn (or those who choose to align with the Emerald Enclave's tenants anyway). When the Harpers declare an alliance with the Enclave, those in charge of selecting allies make sure to enlist the druid circle that is local to that area, the Emerald Grove, since they will be the closest and have a stake in preserving the land around their grove. The Emerald Grove even immortalizes this alliance in their inner sanctum.

Image: Mural of Harpers and Druids shaking hands in front of an oak; Narrator reads: "In darkest hour, a concord made / 'Twixt harp and wild against the shade." Image: Mural of Harpers and druids stand back to back with the fallen armor of Dark Justiciars at their feet; Narrator reads: "The towers seized, the battle done / the moonrise broke the Darkest One."

It's possible that the Emerald Grove was the only circle that joined or was even asked to be in the battle, but perhaps the Enclave sent more. The Harpers needed an army, after all, and Jaheira says they numbered hundreds strong. Either way, the infamous Halsin Silverbough and his predecessor, the Archdruid in charge before him, are among the druids who join the army, though they never meet Jaheira in the battle.

Jaheira: The Archdruid Halsin. Do not be surprised that I know your name - you fit a rather singular description. And one survivor of the shadow curse's fall ought to know another. Halsin: We never actually got to meet, when fighting Ketheric that first time. Jaheira: No. We were a host hundreds strong, after all. Until we were not.

With the druids and Harpers finally aligned, they can at last march on Reithwin and begin their siege.

So let me pause for a moment to confess that the battle itself is...hard to track. Some characters (Halsin, Jaheira) and some accounts suggest that the battle only takes up about one day. The battle seems to either be contained to the banks of the Chionthar, or it spreads into the town to eventually reach Moonrise Towers. Other accounts, like the Harper's Testimonial, suggest the battle raged for three straight days outside of Moonrise alone before Ketheric descended personally into the field. Notes and letters from the House of Healing suggest the siege may have taken even longer, because supplies dwindled to dangerously low levels. Trying to reconcile all these accounts is tricky.

It's important to note that sieging a town doesn't always mean active fighting, it just means cutting off supplies and travel, keeping everyone out, or keeping everyone in, so it's possible the town was under siege for much longer than the battle that was actually fought. So the following is my best interpretation for the events, in an order that makes semi-logical sense to me. Some of this is complete conjecture. But feel free to come up with your own timelines!

Shadow Vestige: You sense a faded memory of marching in an army against Ketheric Thorm. Victory seemed possible back then.

The plan is to lay siege to Reithwin Town and force Ketheric to surrender. Failing that, siege the town until the army is too weak from hunger to fight well, then push forward into Moonrise Towers and kill Ketheric.

Part of the Chionthar divides Reithwin from the rest of the village outskirts (as you can see on the map), making three bridges the only access into town if you're approaching from the east as the Harpers and druids would have done (unless, of course, you want to get wet or you can fly). On one side of the river is the town proper. On the other, Last Light Inn and several farms.

If the Harpers barricade the bridges, or the Justiciars build barricades to keep them out, then Reithwin is cut off from everything on the east side of the river. Cut off the farms, and Reithwin loses food. Cut off travel and trade from the east, and Reithwin is forced to look to the west for supplies...but Baldur's Gate is to the west, and Grand Duke Eltan is already suspicious. He will not be a friend to Ketheric Thorm. Reithwin is essentially (if not literally) boxed in.

It's a good siege plan...in theory, anyway. And if the Harpers lay siege while waiting for their army to grow, waiting for the druids to join them, etc., then it helps them in two ways. It starves out and weakens the enemy and gives them time to increase their own strength.

For a while, the seige seems to be working.

Whether it was the Harpers or the Justiciars who built the barricades and pickets along the bridge, Reithwin is now officially under siege, and trade and supplies start to trickle nearly to a stop. The number of travelers through the tollhouse drastically dwindles, until eventually it seems to be cut off entirely. Reithwin begins to suffer food shortages, enough that the veterinarian in town is forced to butcher some of the stable's horses to provide food. And it's not just horses, judging by the evidence we find elsewhere in town, like the missing pets posters and the pile of bloodied cat and dog collars outside of the tollhouse.

(Ugh I hate it so much. But the Harpers are determined to win. And yes, while some of the food shortage stuff could have been Ketheric failing at governing his town appropriately, a siege makes more sense to me.)

At some point (days? weeks?) Ketheric likely says enough is enough. The battle must begin or he will lose his town and his army to starvation, especially with winter quickly approaching. Alternatively, the Harpers themselves grow tired of waiting. They see that their siege is doing little to sway Ketheric and decide that the only thing left to do is attack.

Either way, the battle will begin on the morrow.

On the eve of the first day of the battle, many Harpers and druids bunk at Last Light Inn, likely including Jaheira and Halsin (who both remember the inn as it was before the shadow curse). Art Cullagh is also staying there. Whether he has already visited the House of Healing and lost his lute there is uncertain, though I think it's likely. Perhaps he visited before Reithwin was sieged, or visited during the siege but before the fighting started. Perhaps he is there in the inn when the Harpers toast one another the night before the battle. The Harpers no doubt expect a hard-fought but certain victory. I can only wonder what Art must have thought, watching them, if he was there that same night.

Shadow Vestige: You glimpse a young Harper on the eve of battle against Thorm, long ago. He and his comrades toast each other in Last Light.

The next day, the battle begins.

Ketheric is a remarkable general who understands how to rouse his soldiers. Minthara describes him, even a century later, as "everything a general should be - a charismatic leader with a brilliant strategic mind." He knows his soldiers and those who would volunteer to join his army are going hungry and are fearful of what the winter might bring to their seiged town. Whether they are Dark Justiciars or not, they're mortal. More mortal than he is. So he gathers them together to bolster their morale before the battle.

[A record of Ketheric Thorm's speech to his troops before his victory over the druids and Harpers.] Take this. You there, take this from me. That is gold, friends. Let those who are coveters and cravens among you take my gold and go. There's enough to keep you warm in winter. But in those cold and lonely winters to come, you will look into the bought flames in the purchased hearth and see a bargained-for peace, and then you'll realise that such a retirement comes at the price of pride. Go on and take it. Take it and go. Those who are not afraid and me? We won't stop you. But neither shall we know a winter in which the coin of regret is idly spent. Instead we shall know blood, and fury, and a triumph worthy of a flame reconcileable only with heaven, I swear it! Against us arrayed is a group of fools - let them be our bank vault! Let us raid them, friends! Let us grow rich on screams!

The Harper Testimonial suggests that Ketheric himself did not enter the battle until day three. I can imagine Ketheric giving such a speech and then watching from the towers (a good vantage point to view the battle below) as his Dark Justiciar army descends on hundreds of Harpers and druids, knowing that victory is well in hand. His Justiciars have trained hard and ritually killed a celestial being, after all. They are an elite force.

~1~ A Harper's Testimonial: The Last Stand of Ketheric Thorm, Chosen of Shar. [The pursuant text describes a battle between Ketheric Thorm's faithful and magical Harper forces.] I do not know what magic the Dark Justiciars summoned to our plane. But if it came from the Weave, then let it be cursed for eternity. For three days, we sieged the Towers. For three days, their darkbolts cleaved our ranks. And on the third day, as his men and woman at last began to fall, Ketheric entered battle.

(The Harper might be conflating the Towers with Reithwin itself, or perhaps I'm wrong about this theory and the Harper is only talking about a secondary battle that happened right outside the Towers. Either way, putting it here because the information is extremely relevant, but here's your warning that there's plenty of conjecture ahead!)

The Harpers and druids clash with the Justiciars on the east banks of the Chionthar, slaughtering each other around ballistae, barricades, and battering rams, trying to push forward across the bridges and docks that connect the tollhouse with the village outskirts. This is no mere skirmish. The ground is slick with blood as Dark Justiciars fight to keep the Harpers and druids from advancing forward into town and reaching Moonrise. Dead and wounded soon begin to litter the ground. The battle is so brutal that vestiges of it remain even a century later, identifiable at a glance.

Character comments regarding the centuries-old remains of the battle around the main bridge into the tollhouse. Astarion: This battlefield must've ran slick with blood - I can taste it in the air, even after so long. Lae'zel: There was a great battle here. The ground stained red with blood long dried. Gale: The site of no ordinary skirmish. This was once a battlefield, and a bloody one, too, judging by the number of bodies. Shadowheart: These aren't the remains of some skirmish - whole armies clashed here once. Wyll: A great battle was fought here - I can practically hear the din of blade against blade, axe against shield. Karlach: This is a battlefield. An old one, but still. Jaheira: Forces from the Emerald Grove. Many stood against Ketheric - only we lucky few survived him. Halsin: A great many druids once stood here to fight Ketheric Thorm. Few ever left. Minthara: Remains of those who stood against Ketheric in the past.

Dark Justiciars rain down darkbolts on the Harpers and druids, bolts of pure darkness that deal moderate damage and can daze the victim. Healers among the Harper and druid ranks begin to get overwhelmed by the amount of wounded. Many of the dead are left abandoned on the field, the fighting too intense to stop and take them away for burial. Most are never recovered.

As the battle rages on for one day, two days, three days, things are growing dire for the citizens inside the town, some of whom are cowering as the battle gets closer and closer, spilling out onto the streets of Reithwin and surging toward Moonrise Towers. The House of Healing is trying to tend to the wounded and the sick, operating as both a regular clinic and a war hospital. Because the siege (and now the battle) has stopped all supplies from entering the town, their potions and tonics are running dangerously low. Additionally, though the House of Healing should technically be offering aid to any wounded person, no matter their faith or creed, Ketheric issues an order that all Selûnites or Harpers must be turned away and that all healing items must be focused on Dark Justiciars alone—an order that his surgeon uncle, Malus, strictly enforces.

[This exhaustive log lists each and every patient to have sought healing in Reithwin, along with their ailments. The minor injuries and common diseases of the early pages give way to critical wounds and deep lacerations - the repercussions of battle. Several unbound scrolls have been slid among the final pages, demanding that healers turn away wounded Harpers and Selûnites, and reserve their tonics for wounded Dark Justiciars - on the orders of General Ketheric Thorm.]

(If Art Cullagh hasn't visited the House of Healing already, he likely can't now.)

The House is still operating as a clinic, accepting patients who come in with ailments or injuries, but they're ordered to essentially ignore them. Malus even forbids the use of sleep aids and anesthetics to ease the pain or passing of the elderly and mortally wounded. Soon they begin turning away even Sharran citizen patients, or leaving them untreated, like the husband of one Cleric of Shar who comes to the House of Healing to be treated for an unknown malady. The husband never realizes that he is suffering the damage that his wife should be getting as she takes on "whole troops" of Harpers single-handedly and walks away without a scratch. He dies, forgotten, either a victim of the shadow curse or of his wife's warding bond.

Things grow so dire that at least one nurse, Sister Anna Lidwin, pens a note to the Chief Chirurgeon (surgeon) of Harbourside Hospital (which is itself kinda sketchy) requesting aid. Potions, herbs, clerics, anything that can help.

To: Chief Chirurgeon, Harbourside Hospital, Baldur's Gate From: Sister Anna Lidwin, Darkcloak, Reithwin House of Healing URGENT! Dear Sir or Madam, We have reached dire times in Reithwin. War has come. Do you not teach that it is our duty to mend all who break, comfort all who ail, without regard for the gods they worship or the champions they heed? Yet our surgeon Malus Thorm abides by his own creed. 'The will of Shar', he might say, and I dare not argue with him - or any Thorm. He allows supplies to dwindle, leaves some patients' injuries to fester so he may 'study', and commands me to nurse only Dark Justiciars that seek treatment. I beg you, Sir or Madam - please deliver us aid, so I might close every tear and cleanse every wound, even those of Harpers and Selûnites. We will humbly accept all you can offer: potions, herbs, sutures, even clerics. Help us to heal. With gratitude, Anna Lidwin

The letter is never sent. It lies abandoned in the House of Healing even a century later. Perhaps she wrote it on the final day of battle and was caught by the shadow curse as she was trying to tend to the wounded.

For the Harpers and druids, the battle has taken a turn for the worse. Ketheric's Dark Justiciars seem overwhelmingly powerful and the damage this battle is doing is only increasing, especially as it spills into town. Eventually, the Harpers weigh the cost of victory and elect to surrender. They get Khelben Arunsun, the Blackstaff himself, to write the surrender letter (whether he was physically there at the battle or not is uncertain).

Ketheric denies the surrender.

General Ketheric Thorm: It is with heavy heart that I must announce the surrender of the Harper forces and its allies to your Dark Justiciar army, under unanimous agreement. 'Harpers work against villainy and wickedness wherever they find it…' So states our code, and so here have we acted. But I also know, all too well, how the statement continues: '… but they work ever mindful of the consequences of what they do.' We cannot be party to the suffering of the people of Reithwin, and indeed, of the great loss of life that this war will visit upon the Sword Coast - and, perhaps, beyond it. So it is written, and so let it be done, Khelben Arunsun, on behalf of the High Harper Council and its allies. [Two words are slashed across the bottom of the scroll:] SURRENDER DECLINED

Ketheric rejects the surrender and clamps it in the jaws of some poor dead soul whose head or skull is then set on a pike at the battlefield (knowing him, it was probably the messenger who brought the surrender letter). The Harpers and druids keep fighting. They have no other choice. It's fight or be slaughtered.

It's the third day. Something has shifted in the ranks. Dark Justiciars are falling in battle, and for once, reinforcements aren't coming. Unbeknownst to the Harpers and druids, an infernal force is destroying Justiciars in Grymforge and in the Gauntlet of Shar. The Harpers and druids at last have a fighting chance.

And that's when Ketheric joins the battle.

The details of this part of the battle are lost to time. We know from Minthara that Ketheric is absolutely fearless in battle. She describes him as a man who leads his troops from the front and cuts through the enemy “like a scythe through stalks.” I suspect that even back then, when the blows and arrows rain down on him as they do when Minthara fights with him a century later, he does not readily fall or falter. With immortality practically guaranteed, he likely butchers more Harpers and druids than they dared imagine possible for one man. The hundreds that made up the original army of Harpers and druids have been winnowed and cut down until only, as Jaheira says, a lucky few remain. The dead number so high for Halsin that he says it would take him a day and night recite all the names of the friends he lost in this battle.

But eventually, somehow, the Harpers and druids at last defeat Ketheric and eliminate all the remaining Justiciars that are still fighting topside. Ketheric suffers a seemingly mortal wound and falls. He utters a "final curse" as he dies and then withers, according to one Harper at least. The effects of this spoken curse are not immediately apparent. For now, the Harpers and druids feel they have won a victory at last, but the curse, whatever it is meant to be, clearly spooks them. Perhaps they think that by sealing Ketheric in the mausoleum, they can avoid the effects of his last dying words.

The Harpers drag Ketheric's corpse from the battlefield and leave him in a tomb in the mausoleum. Jaheira (and possibly Halsin) personally helps other Harpers and Druids seal the mausoleum doors using arcane sigils.

Player: If he's back, perhaps you should have hit him harder in the first place. Jaheira: Believe me - he was well and truly dead. I locked his corpse in the Thorm mausoleum myself.

Halsin: These sigils...druids and Harpers alike tried to seal away Ketheric Thorm in his foul tomb. To no avail.

The remaining Harpers and druids think that this final act of sealing Ketheric away signals a hard-won victory. Jaheira and the other Harpers turn to the task of removing bodies from the battlefield to bury them at Last Light. Halsin and the other druids likely also focus on tending to their dead and wounded, while the surviving citizens of Reithwin breathe unsteady sighs of relief or resignation...until the late autumn air suddenly takes on a midwinter chill.

The shadow curse is only just beginning.

———

Tags for those who wanted the update! @fingons-rad-harp @stuffforthestash

Feel free to request a tag update for Part 3!

#bg3 #bg3 lore #bg3 meta #bg3 critical #bg3 discourse #my thoughts #deep dive #long post #super long post #ketheric thorm #halsin #halsin silverbough #jaheira #do not ask me how many times I rearranged sections and images #each post has me feeling more and more like that guy in always sunny in philadelphia #just red string and papers and pepe silvia but make it bg3

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ancuninfiles · 5 months

Text

Comfort pt. 4

GIF by @astarionposting

4.5k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Tav - 18+

Summary: The companions engage in crucial conversations, Nym reads an educational book with Astarion within the confines of his tent, and Astarion, grappling with internal struggles, finds solace in the intimacy shared with Nym, albeit as a temporary distraction.

Tags: smut, fluff, angst, p in v sex, creampie, mating press, vampire bites, needy/desperate astarion, snuggles🥺, kissing, sex from Astarion's POV

MASTERLIST (The other chapters and other works)

Read on AO3 (Recommended)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

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It had been a long and arduous rest of the day, between two seemingly benevolent druids turned bloodthirsty, and a forgotten temple of Jergal set with traps and undead sorcerers.

The archdruid Kagha had sent her snake on a tiefling child, resulting in the little girl's death while Gale and Nym were at the beach. Nym spoke with Kagha shortly thereafter, resulting in an unproductive conversation about how Nym had never met a wood elf prejudiced enough to kill a child.

The druidic healer, Nettie, was no help, either. Not only did the bird she healed fall ill again minutes after her treatment, but she had also tried to kill Nym with a poisonous thorn engendering their cohort to attack Nettie in self-defence.

After the grove’s disputes, they returned to the ruined temple where they had killed a group of bandits the previous day, to procure provisions and explore. Nym acquired some interesting books after a pacifistic skeleton that spoke in early-modern english rose from his tomb.

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Now, settling in at camp for the evening, Gale worked away at the cookpot, Astarion read at his tent, and Nym was with Shadowheart at the Sharran’s tent.

“He told me that he isn’t jealous of Gale, so I figured he would at least give me his blessing if he had no desire to join us.” Nym frowned as they sat cross-legged facing one another.

Shadowheart exhaled heavily, “Nym, you poor thing, he probably only said that because he felt embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Isn’t it considered normal to be jealous among non-wood elf people?” Nym gazed at the floor with brows canted down, her palms up and hovering.

“Ha,” Shadowheart chuckled, “Normal, yes, but dishonourable. I’m sure he must’ve felt a little odd having staked claim over a woman he’d just met, but men can be strange and possessive creatures; and I suppose women can be, too.”

Huffing, Nym brought her knees to her chest. “It all makes sense now - why else would he interfere so violently?” She rested her forehead on her knees and dug her nails into either calf. “I should talk to them - separately. I don’t want to upset anyone. This is all so silly.”

“You’re not to blame for Astarion’s transgressions, nor are you to blame for Gale’s machinations,” Shadowheart pressed.

“I’m aware of that, I just - I’m learning. I want to be a proper leader, and I truly do enjoy Astarion’s company,” Nym brought her hand up, blocking the sound exiting her mouth from one side, “more than Gale’s if I’m being honest.”

They hushedly snickered in tandem. Nym covered her mouth and Shadowheart slapped her knee joyously.

Their giggles reached both Gale and Astarion's ears.

Gale stirred a pot over the fire and left it to heat up before waltzing over to Astarion’s tent. “We need to talk.”

“Do we? I’m personally quite content pretending you don’t exist. You leave no lasting impression, anyway,” Astarion retorted venomously with his nose in a book.

“Listen, we have a common goal - to rid ourselves of these godsforsakened tadpoles. We must tolerate each other for the time being - that being said, you don’t own Nym,” Gale argued.

Astarion snapped his book shut and sneered at Gale, craning his head closer to his face. “I only attacked you because I thought our leader was being assaulted.”

“Oh, please. You saw how she crawled to me this morning, and you know she wanted me. I’m sure she’s told you that by now, as well.” Gale pointed his finger at Astarion, standing his ground.

“Ha,” Astarion scoffed, “are you done? Because I’d like to relax and read; this book is fairly interesting and you are not.”

“Fine, however, keep your weapons away from me. Need I remind you that you’re not the only one here capable of severing one’s ties to the temporal plane?” He gestured his palm upwards sarcastically as he began to turn away towards the fire. “Just a suggestion.” He walked to the cookpot.

Astarion’s jaw clenched as he placed his book under his arm and ducked into his tent, closing the flap behind him. Once in solitude, his entire body tensed as he sat on the bedroll. Ceasing breath, tears welled up in his eyes that he wiped roughly with his palms and gritted his teeth.

He combed his fingers through his hair, gripping his scalp firmly. “Pathetic,” he whispered.

“Astarion - Are you in there?” Nym called from outside of his tent.

Astarion quickly tossed his hair, attempting to set it back into place before wiping the rest of his tears away with the backs of his hands. “Come in!” He cringed at himself briefly before painting a forced smile upon his lips.

Nym crouched into Astarion’s tent, holding two books in one arm. “Hey, I wanted to -” Astarion ripped her into his tent, causing the books to topple on the ground. The tent flap closed behind her as he gained purchase on her hair and pulled her mouth into a needy and forceful kiss.

Nym squeaked, melting into Astarion before moaning into his lips. He let go of her hair, and both arms wrapped around her torso under her limbs.

Astarion sighed with locked lips, frowning and holding Nym tightly.

Nym pulled back from the kiss with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest. “Woah.” She grinned and rolled her eyes before glancing up at Astarion, puffy-eyed and reddened cheeks wet with salty tears. “Oh - uh,” she said, her hands coming down to his shoulders and she straddled him, “do you wanna talk about it, or?”

Astarion turned his head away from Nym, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Nim giggled, throwing her head back and Astarion watched her with concern. “You’ve seen me like this at least twice already. You know - these past two days have been quite overwhelming. Nobody can blame you for crying a little; I mean, I would’ve cried more today if you hadn’t helped me with the shopping list - ugh,” she grimaced.

Astarion paused, turning his head again to face his tent flap and resting his hands on Nym’s hips.

“I spoke to Shadowheart,” she started, “and she says you want me all to yourself.” Nym laughed giddily.

“Did she?”

“Yeah, is it true?”

"What would it matter? It's not as if it’ll change anything,” Astarion pouted, continuing to avoid Nym’s gaze. “Besides, you don't owe me. If anything, I'm indebted to you, and we've only just met yesterday."

"But it's obvious that this situation is affecting you. I think that counts for something - It hurts me to see you pained,” Nym sighed. ”I can't explain why, but you remind me of - well - someone I used to know."

The tent was then shrouded in silence.

Nym said, "Plus, I don't see the harm in you and I having a physical relationship. We could turn into mind flayers at any moment, and not to mention it's an excellent way to destress."

Astarion piped up, "That is if neither of us starts transforming during one of our carnal escapades."

Laughter bubbled forth, weaving through the tent, untangling the knots of tension that had gripped them moments before.

"This is why I like you," Nym stated matter-of-factly before gazing into his eyes fondly. Astarion reciprocated her gaze, and the corner of his lip pulled up. "By the way, you're not indebted to me."

Astarion’s eyes darted away once again, "But - I took your blood." He hung his head.

Nym’s shoulders slumped. "For there to be a debt, it needs to be agreed upon prior to the act - besides, I enjoyed it." She blushed, eyes falling momentarily before perking up. "I got this amulet, see?" Nym thumbed the charm, "It cures blood loss!"

Astarion eyed the amulet before reaching his hand to hers. "I see," he paused, his brow creasing with displeasure, "I want you to know that you are free to go to Gale's tent if that's what you wish."

"Oh, I - uh . . . I almost forgot about that." She frowned, "I don't want to anymore; not after seeing how upset it makes you. Like I’ve said before, where I’m from, one is scrutinized for expressing feelings of jealousy; but, I never fit in with anyone back home anyway.” Nym paused, biting her lip and gazing downwards. “I've been the target of scrutiny, monogamous or not. The wood elves of the High Forest feign peace and neighbourliness, but they are very unaccepting of - well.” Nym inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, “differences; at least within our own factions,” she spoke animatedly, hands dancing about with each phrase. “They have all these weird unspoken rules and if you screw up one-too-many times, they essentially cast you out."

"I see,” Astarion said, bringing his knuckle to his chin in thought.

"Youkeepsayingthat! And I've always been a little eccentric. . . I’m open-minded to your a-typical way of life as well. It would only be fair." She smiled endearingly.

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Astarion’s eyes widened at Nym, his brow creasing before his frown warped into a grin. "You're too sweet."

Nym brushed off Astarion's compliment, her attention fixed on her discovery. "You too - and I found these books in that ruined temple today! The Curse of the Vampyr and Wood Elves of the High Forest. Can we read them together? Oh - and, can I stay with you again tonight, please?"

Astarion considered all of what Nym had just said. She doesn’t want Gale anymore - but on what pretense?

Nym looked at him with doe eyes, pulling him from reason. Although he still had much to think about, he decided that having her stay the night again wouldn't cause any harm.

"I would love that." He gestured to her side of the bedroll, the one furthest from the tent flap.

Nym abided, lifting herself off of Astarion, scooting beside him, and grabbing the books that had fallen from her grasp upon her fumbled and steamy entrance.

She excitedly opened the book on Vampires, flipping to the introduction. “I’ve already done some research on Vampires before, but getting the best books would be no easy feat where I’m from,” she exclaimed. “There is a library deep in the mountains on the north end of the High Forest, that’s where all the good books are,” Nym smirked.

Astarion bunched his mouth to the side and rested a knuckle under his chin. He tried to think back to what he knew of libraries in the High Forest, and he recalls hearing of a covert archive that was riddled with traps and illusions. Even a skilled rogue would have much trouble penetrating through that much security, he thought.

Nym skimmed through the pages of the book, occasionally running her eyes up and down particular pages. She nudged over to Astarion and rested her head on his shoulder, giving him a better view of the book.

Nym’s vanilla-and-amber-scented body felt soft and warm against his arm; a most welcome but novel sensation.

Nym read aloud,

"Vampire spawn are, more often than not, slaves to their master.”

"The spawn have supernatural abilities such as spider climbing and gaseous form."

Astarion perked up. "We would only use gaseous form if we were compelled to, but spider climbing? I had no idea about this."

"The vampire or vampire spawn do not need to consume blood to survive, however, if they do not consume blood, specifically humanoid blood, the following symptoms may occur:

- madness/extreme bloodlust

- brain fog

- depleted strength

- loss of supernatural abilities

- dry lips/skin

- depression

- anxiety"

"Ah - makes sense," Astarion flicked his gaze down, past the book.

He peeked up at Nym with admiration while her nose was in the book; seeing her so eager and focused caused his chest to tighten.

"It says here that the thirst for humanoid blood may be driven by one's instinct to procreate, as only a well-fed vampire or vampire spawn can reproduce. Well, then what about the vamps that prefer same-sex relationships?" Nym questioned, looking up at Astarion with knitted brows.

"I genuinely did not know that I could reproduce at all. I always assumed that I was doomed infertile."

"Whoever your master was must've been a real piece of work, huh?"

"You've surmised that much already?"

"Well, like I’ve said, this isn't my first time researching vampirism - all vampiric masters are evil as far as I’m aware."

"An unfortunate truth, I'm afraid," Astarion’s gaze shifted away as he began to pout.

Nym paused.

"Well whenever you feel ready to talk about it, I'm here." She winked playfully. "So, how much does a vampire need to drink to be well-fed?"

He pondered her question. "I actually don't know. I wonder if it says anything in that book about it. Why? Already getting baby-fever?" Astarion asked with a roguish smile.

Nym frowned, the colour of her cheeks deepening with blood. "Hmph - no - I'm just curious. I figure now that I have this necklace, you could essentially drink from me until I'm almost dead, chant ‘Te Absolvo’, and then drink a bit more after. We could even buy, or steal if you prefer, some scrolls of lesser restoration and then you can go crazy on me one night to see how much you need to drink until you’re full,” she grinned widely with arching eyes.

Astarion’s heart skipped a beat; he recalled his fantasy that he had on the beach. Is she truly offering to do this for me? "Hold on - you want to try that? You'd let me do that to you?"

"Mhm,” Nym nodded, “I think it would be an interesting experiment. Have you ever been full before?"

"I - uh - no, actually." Astarion tensed a smile.

"Well, then we have to try this . . . If you want to, of course." Nym shrunk into herself.

As if it were even a question. To feel sated for the first time - would it even be possible?

He leaned into her neck, whispering, "You have no idea how much I want to."

Nym blushed deeply while Astarion kissed her neck.

"Hmm - but wait!" She squirmed.

Astarion abruptly pulled away from her neck.

"Not right now! We need scrolls and I've already used this once today."

"Oh - I'm aware, darling," he gave her a condescending scratch on the head, "You're just so delectable; and in more ways than one." He smiled slyly.

She leaned into his touch and slowly closed her eyes. "Mmm - you know my weakness, huh?"

"You really are a kitty." Astarion angled his body to the left, directing his frontside more toward Nym without fully turning. He gently grazed his fingernails on her scalp, massaging thoughtfully.

"You're sort of cat-like yourself - albeit the more feral and particular type." She lolled her head back into his hand while he continued his toying.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Good,” Nym’s face transitioned into a frown, “sorry, I hope I didn't offend."

Astarion laughed, "Oh, not at all. If anything, I'm charmed," he said, letting go of her hair.

She grabbed her chin and stiffened her shoulders. "I see," she mocked in a deep and posh-sounding voice, pursing her lips.

Astarion's mouth fell agape. “You're going to pay for that,” he said before lunging towards her and tickling her sides mercilessly.

Nym yelped and squirmed about, giggling with tears spilling from her eyes. She fell back onto her pillow, hugging her elbows to her waist to shield herself from his playful assault. "Okayokaynomore," she begged.

Astarion respectfully seized his attack as she caught her breath, sitting on his knees with either thigh between Nym's legs.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were glossy, and her legs came to meagerly wrap around Astarion's torso.

“Hmm.” His lips curved to one side. “Ignis,” he whispered before lighting a few candles in his tent with the small flame on his fingertip. He oriented himself towards her again, happily exhaling whilst running his hands down the top of her thighs.

Nym brought her warm hands up to rest upon the backs of his cold ones as his hands swept up her waist, above her breasts, and then finally to her shoulders where he would tenderly squeeze her.

In sync, Nym's hands glided across the backs of his arms, all the way to his shoulders. She pressed her fingertips gently into his back, coaxing him forward.

Astarion enjoyed how Nym would always suggest, but never demand. He enjoyed her embrace; and when he saw her face, he felt safe somehow. The feeling washed over him, and he soaked it up like a sponge.

Still, there was a constant battle to push the thoughts away; especially in moments like this, where his unpleasant memories were seeming to surface more and more with every touch.

He wanted to be touched. He wanted to embrace Nym. He wanted to become whole with her, all while a pressing feeling ached within him, urging him to run or to freeze.

His elbows slowly came down to the bedroll, caging Nym. His face hovered above hers, witnessing her expressions.

He saw lust in the laze of her eyelids, and in the way her teeth peeked through her parted lips.

Nym blinked slowly, and the candlelight danced across her features. Her hands snaked up to Astarion's rib cage, where she sensually caressed his body over his shirt.

A shiver ran up his spine as his growing desire battled his introspective qualms in waves.

“Astarion,” her voice echoed in his mind, “are you okay? You're frowning.” Nym pouted.

Astarion's awareness snapped back like the recoil on a crossbow, his head melting to the crook of Nym's neck.

I want to forget again, for one more night.

He tasted Nym's salty neck as her nails ascended to brush through his snowy curls. She hummed, her vibrating throat tickling his lips ever so slightly.

“Are you sure you're okay, Astarion?” she whispered.

Astarion groaned while he gently nipped at her flesh without drawing blood. His pelvis pressed firmly against her core, causing her to moan indignantly.

“I need you tonight, Nym - please,” he breathed saccharine words into her ear before suckling on the thin flesh on her neck. Their bodies rocked into each other, and Nym began to radiate heat like a beacon, its intensity drawing Astarion in with its passionate incandescence.

“Astarion, I want you too,” she purred. Her hand came to his lower abdomen, her fingers splaying beneath the waistline of his pants.

He kissed up her neck, navigating towards her open mouth. His lips slowly and sensually joined with hers as he let out small groans of satisfaction.

His left hand snuck beneath her loose night-shirt, gaining purchase on her breast.

The pace of her breathing picked up as he groped her soft mound, causing him to grow painfully hard and leak precum into his pants.

Their lips flew apart and Astarion hastily got up to strip, his muscles rippling as he pulled his ivory shirt above his head, apathetically discarding it next to the bedroll.

Nym watched him with patient adoration, as she lay melted beneath him.

Astarion wasted no time before climbing atop Nym once again and kissing her fervently. His dominating kiss caused her head to sway with each swell of vigour that leaked from his soul. Breaking away, he winced and impetuously pulled Tav’s loose night pants off, followed by her top, her arms raising to accommodate his plot.

He hovered over her, sucking and kissing a trail from her neck to her breasts, making sure not to neglect one more than the other. Nym pressed her body upward into Astarion’s mouth as he snuck two curving fingers into her weeping folds.

Nym whined loudly as his finger started slowly pumping in and out, causing lewd and wet sounds to surely penetrate through the fabric walls of their shared accommodation and into the ears of their campmates.

“That’s it, sweet Nym - sing as loud as you need,” Astarion purred, “I want to hear nothing but the sounds of you coming undone for me.” I want the sound of your cries to drown out the clamour of my miserable memories - please.

Her core pulsed against his fingers at his words, and her hips wiggled needily against his hand as she came up on her elbows, moaning through gritted teeth.

Astarion ascended to her lips, delving into her mouth with his tongue which waltzed with hers. When he disentangled their maws, a wet string that connected the two of them drooped leaving a glistening wet thread along her chest.

Nym lay panting, and gazing at Astarion warmly with heavy lids. That’s it - that’s what I need, Astarion thought. The fidelity of Nym’s stare forced a rush of blissful numbness to his mind that seeped into his chest and outwards into his wrists like little blue rivulets of panacea.

He removed his fingers and gripped her thighs roughly, placing the backs of her knees above his shoulders. Nym made small mewls of enjoyment while Astarion manhandled her like she was his pet, but when he lined himself up with her wetness and subsequently filled her in one agonizingly slow thrust, she cried out voraciously.

“That’s it, good girl,” Astarion praised while slightly picking up the pace of his thrusts.

His length reached into her deepest depths, coaxing whimpers and groans out of both partners.

Nym stared at Astarion with unrelenting passion and intensity, her expression reading somewhere between anger and affection; once thought to be polarizing energies, but now mingling like leaves and rain in a windstorm.

Astarion had folded her completely in half and began to thrust into her with great abandon. This woman - she’s so warm - she’s so hot. “Agh,” Astarion whimpered, hanging his head forward, causing his curls to graze her flushed cheeks.

Nym’s womanly body rippled, her feet bouncing above Astarion’s shoulders as he lay into her again and again.

“I’m so close, Astarion,” she whined, enticing him to unhook one of her legs and reach for her clit where he would rub taut circles, eliciting more cries to spill from her kiss-swollen lips.

“Ah - Nehel lani don stacia sha'Quessir,” groaned Nym through clenched teeth.

Astarion wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. Something about a beautiful elven friend, and certainly nothing negative, he thought assuredly. Growing up in the city, he had never learned how to speak Elvish fluently. It was something he wanted to learn, but never had the opportunity.

The way the beautiful language poured from her lips uninhibitedly and the way her cunt quivered around him was bringing him to the apogee of pleasure.

“Bite me - please,” she pleaded.

Right when he thought he couldn’t feel any better.

Astarion grunted and descended to her throat, slowing his pace slightly to search for her pulse with the flat of his tongue. When he found it, he swiftly latched on and began drinking from her vehemently, making Nym yelp softly. Feeling confident in his bite, he started rutting into her rapidly, chasing his climax.

“Asta - rion,” she choked out a cry when he felt her core violently clenching and gushing around his shaft as her ambrosia coated his tongue.

Nym’s body limpened beneath him, glistening and panting; so he removed his hand and expertly hiked her leg over his shoulder once more without releasing her flesh from his bite.

Astarion’s entire body tensed, hips stuttering all while a syrupy ecstasy clouded his mind. All at once, the ecstasy flowed from his mind to his groin and erupted into Nym’s body.

Astarion whimpered into her neck as he locked his hips into hers, filling her wholly with his seed.

He briefly thrust shallowly into her a few more times before taking his last gulps of her blood and then pulling out of her entirely.

Panting, he licked her fresh wounds clean and then pressed his bloodied lips onto hers. Nym took a deep breath through her nose while Astarion tasted her mouth. He embraced the hot and tender sensation of her plush lips against his own.

Their kiss was mutually passionate and oozing with a purple aura of post-coital fatigue. They groaned into one another before disconnecting with a pop.

Astarion thoughtfully untangled Nym’s legs and placed them to rest straight on either side of him. He carefully massaged her hips and thighs, squeezing her hip bones compassionately, causing her to hum sweetly.

“How are you, my dear?” he asked, grinning slightly.

Nym propped herself up on her shoulders and reached a hand to cup Astarion’s cheek. “Perfect - and you?” she exhaled.

A simple enough question that would be difficult to answer without complexity and an uncomfortable level of vulnerability. His stomach vibrated, mimicking the feeling of perhaps falling off a large cliff or floating like a feather from a jay’s nest. This feeling oscillated with a muddy green sickness, fermenting into an acrid and ethanol-like brew, fit to burst from the seams that Astarion had been so desperate to maintain.

“Hmm?” she pressed, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.

Astarion snapped back to the present, noticing that he’d periodically been running into trouble maintaining his composure throughout the night. He gazed at Nym, whose body glistened in the candlelight, the sun having been set completely for some time. Her eyes were round and her lower lip puffed out slightly in a pout.

Pity, Astarion grimaced inwardly.

“I’m sorry - you’ve been so much fun that I’ve found myself completely spent, darling.” He painted a disingenuous smile across his face. “Here, let me take care of you.”

Tidying up after sex had always been part of his song and dance, a chore that he would provide and never have provided for him; however, with Nym, it felt different. The idea of her being left to care for herself after he had ravished her made him uneasy; in parallel, the act of wiping her clean and tucking her in filled his soul with a strange sense of joy that he’d seemingly been deprived of for countless years.

Nym curtly nodded and laid back down, rolling onto her side and carding her hand beneath the pillow with her eyes closed.

Astarion did his routine wash up with the softest dampened cloth before discarding all of their dirty linens into his new designated small wicker basket, acting as a hamper.

He had his naked back turned to Nym, and the sudden realization of what that meant caused his whole body to stiffen momentarily.

My scars -

. . . but she was bound to see them eventually.

Astarion slowly turned towards her, almost as if he were scared to see a monster over his shoulder, but she was deep in trance and snuggled into her pillow.

He sighed in relief; thanking, not the gods but perhaps his recent streak of luck - grateful for the kind and promiscuous elf in his tent.

He crawled beside her and pulled her backside into him so that she was flush against his tepid skin. Astarion pulled their blankets over top of their naked bodies, cozying up beside his little elven woman and savouring everything she was.

Who knows how long I’ll be able to indulge in these little comforts, and who knows how long it’ll be before she stops craving my company?

Everyone gets taken away, eventually.

Read the next chapter ( 5 ) >>

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Notes: Astarion history check:

*Tries to recall a library in or around the High Forest*

Required roll outcome: 15

Astarion rolls: 14

Damn, so close!

#astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion x original female character #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x female tav #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion hurt/comfort #comfort chapter 4

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nika-vincent · 1 year

Text

Long post warning.

I'm trying to put together some thoughts (also based on recent discussions with many great folks) about the romance path with Halsin in the form that it is presented in the game at the moment with the hope that Larian will notice our comments on this. And part 2 about Halsin's personality in the game. Please, fear not, it will be without aggression. So take some tea, my friends, and let's get started!☕

From the very beginning of EA, we had an image of Halsin that stood out not only by his appearance (it was difficult to not notice the thirsty comments of fans about this), but also by the excellent qualities of his character. He is one of those characters who sincerely wants to help us with our parasite and not try to use us in a bad way or even kill us.

He has the impression, you know, of a big adult man who at first glance looks serious and rather harsh, but when you learn more about him, you realize that this is a man with a kind heart, caring, protecting, not leaving you in trouble. He reminds me of Hagrid from the Harry Potter universe. And this image of him was so loved by many people (including me) that we wanted to see more of it when the game was released. There was no limit to my delight when, after the release of the game, we were able to ask about his hobbies. Gods, how all these cute things fit him that he loves honey and carves wood in his spare time.🥰 I want more of this!❤

We began to fantasize about what a romance with Halsin could be, and expected that these beautiful traits of his character would manifest themselves here. That he will be protective for Tav, gentle, romantic and caring. I was incredibly happy that we were finally given the opportunity to have a romance with him and the words during the PFH that Halsin and Astarion had become the most popular characters of EA gave great expectations.

Of course, after the release of the game, many things have remained behind the scenes for now, due to lack of time to implement the rest of things I believe, and I assume that there is a chance of adding this with patches. But let's move on to the things we have at the moment.

What surprised me not in a good way was that I noticed some strange emphasis on Halsin's sexuality and various jokes towards his body in the game itself. I assume that perhaps the developers wanted to make some kind of reference to the thirsty comments of fans about Halsin, which can often be seen on the Internet. But I think it would be better to leave it between fans, and not literally implement it in the game. I do not deny his sexuality myself and say that his arms are made for hugs! But there should be a limit to everything, I think. I can make an exception about the fact that we can ask about why he is so big for an elf. It looks quite harmless and even his reaction amuses.😁

The reference to 'Daddy Halsin' in his ending was great and really funny! It looks unobtrusive and does not create the feeling of awkwardness and discomfort that we got from some of his stories from the past...

The story of Halsin's sexual past and how the romance with him is presented in the game has been most criticized by players, and there are several reasons for this. We found out that he had many lovers throughout his life (So it is lovers, not special loved ones). And then we also learn that when he was a young druid, he traveled through the underdark and found himself a guest in a noble Drow house, in which the matron and the patron showed interest in him and chained him for three years in their bedchamber, where he played the role of 'guest, prisoner and consort'. Honestly, the last thing I expected was that Halsin would get such a backstory, given that we had kept in mind for so long the image of him which I described at the beginning of this article. It literally took me by surprise. And especially the fact that he talks about it so calmly and even with a note of gaiety, as if this is a common thing that could happen to anyone.

I don't understand the need to add such things to him. Perhaps the developers wanted to show in this way that a man with such an attractive appearance is obliged to have a hot sexual experience and give him an image of something like a Faerun Casanova? If so, it turned out to be quite inappropriate and even creepy, and the players perceived it more as a sexual abuse towards him than as an experience.

It can be noticed that even Halsin himself is not very enthusiastic with the fact that remarks about his physique are the first thing people talk about. Clipping from @lylakoi 's screenshot:

And all this strongly contradicts how we initially fell in love with Halsin and how we wanted to see him and his romance in the release. The romantic relationship between Tav and Halsin at the moment looks more built on physical attraction, rather than on love, care and mutual respect. Most likely, this is due to the noticeable lack of romance content at the moment and more soft things and scenes will be added to the patches that would dilute it well so that it does not catch the eye. I just wanted the romance to be less fixated on lust, and more on feelings and romantic things between Tav and Halsin.

The most terrible thing that literally brought tears to my eyes is the fact that he can talk about his feelings and love only when we ourselves can behave like an abuser with him, when we decide to break up with him and change our minds. We see how much it hurts him that we are playing with his heart. Because at the moment there are no other romantic scenes in the game in which we can discuss with him our feelings and that we love each other, as it happens with other companions.

Polyamory also does not work quite correctly in the game, because it seems that he wants Tav to be poly in the relationship, not him. It looks something like: 'You're all I want, but don't get stuck on me and find someone else' uhh, what? I only want to romance you, why should I find someone else? This dialogue is appropriate if I was already in a relationship with another companion and would like to be with Halsin too. But if I want to have a romance with him alone, then I believe that the dialogue should be different and not insist on 'sharing' if I have not a relationship with anyone.

Given the whole story that he only had lovers and sexual slavery, I assume that Halsin has never experienced true love with anyone, and only knows how to be used by everyone. If this was the original idea of the writers, which has not yet been brought to its logical end, then the role of Tav in the romance with Halsin here should be quite important in order to see the development of their relationship. The main goal in the romance should be that Tav will allow Halsin to feel what it's like to be truly important and loved. Remember when in the act 2 he was touched by the fact that Tav shared a campfire and their company with him. Screenshot by @lylakoi :

It is clearly evident that such things that someone does for him are unusual to him and touch his very heart. Most likely, he is used to giving, not receiving.

The bed scene with him is absolutely beautiful, I can even give a standing ovation.❤ I would only add after that a scene where Tav and Halsin are lying side by side, looking at the stars and having a romantic conversation. That would end the night perfectly.🙏

It is necessary to add more soft interactions for Halsin, so that there is more emphasis on the development of his personal qualities. We are well aware of his attractiveness and there is no need to emphasize this once again with strange jokes and stories with sexual abuse.

The Interaction in the camp with owlbear and Scratch will be great for him! Maybe even add some scenes with companions in act 2, where Halsin would try to calm the guys arguing with each other. That would add +1 to his personality traits. Also, more of his reactions to any events or during the dialogues with someone will not hurt.

For a romance, I would suggest definitely adding a scene with a date. Even a scene where Halsin would give an ornament for Tav that he carved out of wood. Maybe some episode in the city that would shock him (For example, he witnessed the rough treatment of animals or orphans) and make him turn into a bear from rage and we would try to calm him down by choosing the option 'reach out and stroke him' (Yes, yes, I mentally create fanfics during 3 am, don't blame me😅) Also a scene where we could hug him and confess that we love him. And now the romance no longer looks focused on lust.

The opportunity to go with Halsin in the ending also deserves to exist. Halsin mentioned that he would like to have a family, so he and Tav could perfectly help orphans together in Thaniel's world.🙏

That's all for today. My opinion about Larian has not changed for the worse, for me they are still great guys who delight me with their positive attitude to the community. Unpleasant situations can happen, it is inevitable. But there is always a chance to fix something. I really want to hope that they will cope with everything and listen to our feedbacks and everything will gradually get better with the patches.❤

Thank you for reading this review to the end.🙏❤ I also suggest joining the discussion to Larian's discord in the 'bg3-feedback' section.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #bg #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin romance #druid halsin #halsin x tav #larian studios #ps5 #pc game

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autistichalsin · 7 months

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I know I am in the extreme minority, but there hasn't been a single change Larian has made to the game post-release that I have worse than neutral about, and most of them I consider moderate to extreme improvements. There are some added lines I didn't like per se, but I never liked those less than what was (not) there originally. Some examples (most Halsin-focused because those are the ones I pay the most attention to)

Neutral:

Changing Gortash's note

Allowing the Dark Urge to have a flirty line with Gortash (if that has been confirmed)

Changes to certain dismissal lines

Halsin's line if you show him Kagha's letter

Spawn Astarion's response if the player sleeps with Mizora

Some of the new lines for Halsin re: Baldur's Gate, Shadow Druids, etc

Liked:

Additions to the epilogue that let you talk to your (former?) love interest if you went to hell with Avernus, rode dragons with Lae'zel, etc

Other new lines for Halsin re: Baldur's Gate, Shadow Druids, etc

Scenes dealing with Vlaakith path Lae'zel ascending, the implications of this, etc in the end

Loved:

New kisses

Camp idle behaviors

The Halsin-Minthara ultimatum

The epilogue party

Halsin's expanded post-Drow discussion

Halsin's platonic path

The updated lines when spawn Astarion gets burned in the sun

Cuddling cinematic post-Drow foursomes/moresomes

The new bad ending sequence, both in terms of animation, and the fact that now romanced Minthara or Ascended Astarion who encouraged the player to take over are spared by the player (if anything, I feel they could change this bit MORE and give us more of the aftermath of the player thralling their friends and loved ones)

The new note in the epilogue from Archdruid Francesca, mentioning sending Ormn to live with Halsin at his commune

The new Speak With the Dead lines for Halsin if he dies to Orin instead of in the goblin camp

Karlach's ending with Wyll and/or the player in Avernus

The option to tell Halsin you want to join him at his commune

... Etc.

I can think of nothing off the top of my head that I think made the game worse. At worst I might go "strange to add that as it didn't change anything," I.E. Halsin's non-reaction to Kagha's note. I didn't hate it- I just felt it added nothing. (Maybe it's a way of setting flags for the dialogues specific to Halsin knowing about the Shadow Druids in case the player didn't investigate Kagha before finding him?) But I can't think of anything that made the story/my experience worse in any way.

I know people keep complaining that Larian is "listening to some fans over others" and such, but to me, I don't think they have done that? Very few of these seem in any way like they were influenced by fan complaints (and the few that were, were, in my opinion, definite improvements, I.E. the player/Wyll going to Avernus with Karlach, Halsin's additional post-Drow dialogue, etc). And of course, Larian has shown they also have no problem NOT adding things when it goes against their vision- they have repeatedly shut down requests for an expanded evil path, haven't added to Wyll's story despite very loud fan outcry, haven't made Halsin monogamous despite a very vocal group of fans calling for this on the Larian forums and Discord... etc. It clearly isn't number or loudness of the fans influencing 95% of these changes- it's Larian adding things that already fit in their vision.

I guess it is also baffling to me because I'm used to games that are either from series that have been dead for decades or are rushed out just as money grabs (Pokemon) with little attention given after besides minimal bug fixes and content for paid DLCs (cough, Pokemon). To see a game that reflects on their story (or just general experience, like their constantly giving Cazador buffs in tactician mode) and constantly changes what they think should be is, in my opinion, pretty admirable. I truly don't understand all the outrage- to me, it's a sign they care about their story and want it to be the best they can make it, even after people have already paid them for it.

I know i'm in the minority here, but the changes make me respect Larian a lot more than I already did.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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rennybu · 8 months

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hi.... i'm just a poor boy . who does not know the loam lore. would you be willing to share.... a summary.... (so curious i am a loam enjoyer)

oh my gosh hi griff..! oh there is so much to tell... i will h ave no choice but to put this under a readmore. the shortest answer is that he is my character of 3+ years in @jawsandbones homebrew dnd campaign and he is like a son to me. but to start off with baby pictures:

LOAM was born 52 years ago in a city called TILDEN, which is blocked off overland by a CURSED* SWAMP that creeps closer every year.

*Misremembered and only Recently Re-Contextualized Major Historical event

His mom is a shy, worried, and loving woman named Bayla - she's a druid and sells medicinal mushrooms of all sorts. His dad is an unwaveringly positive (but incredibly serious) mason named Uttara who proudly works on all sorts of projects around the city, especially major infrastructure. Yay stoneworkers!

(Because fantasy lifespans are strange and somewhat silly to me I just imagine Firbolgs to be stuck in their mid-20s existential dread until they're like at least 150. The backstory part of this spans literally 51 of his 52 year s of life. he's so young)

He got equal enrichment from time spent in nature with his mom as from time spent in the city with his dad. His nickname in the Tilden Firbolg community To This Day is "Always With Questions" - a kind of affix to differentiate him from any other Loams. He may not know much but he really would like to find out, please!!!! He sees a lot of beauty in the natural world, but his idea of what's natural is skewed somewhat by the uh, Curse. He once fell through some algae into a deep body of water and had a very fun memento mori experience as a kiddo (beautiful golden sunbeam shining onto a silty skull)

He got the name Loam very young from his interest in both his parents' work, which lead to him learning about soil types and uses in gardening and construction aklfhglskg. Loam was important for both jobs so he (in guess-what-I-just-learned little kid fashion) told everyone who would listen about it. The association STUCK and he's Loam now :].

His birth name is actually Rahara! but that's secret knowledge only his bestest friends and Tzip and some scarycool important NPCs know.

He loves beasts and magic and plants so much. And on the flip side he also loves and is fascinated by architecture and engineering. He never got any like, higher academic schooling or whatever, but had many many different apprenticeship type training relationships from his parents, other tradespeople in the city, from the senior rangers etc etc.

Small break to plug @jawsandbones lore packets for the Quarter Cities (including Tilden), Scarabae, and the overall campaign setting!!!! I'm just gonna talk about stuff without adding too much context of my own because AAA WORD COUNT!!!

The hole in Loam's ear was brought about by a shit ass Tilden local trying to tear his earring off him, since he'd bought it from a foreign merchant from a city Tilden/the Quarter has historically warred with. Loam's always been open minded and deeply curious about other cities, due to how isolated the bog is. Any visiting merchants are sources of wonder!!!! Even though he only bought the one hoop earring from the Quietus merchants (Mirjam and Mihail, mother and son!), after the ice was broken he stayed by their stall the rest of the day and talked about all kinds of things, and befriended Mihail!

Loam trained as a ranger as soon as he was old enough to do so!!!! He saw it as the next logical step past what his parents would be able to show him and was incredibly eager to get hands-on experience in the wilds. He met his first ever boyfriend among his peers there!!! Bragi... he has had many lovers and situationships in Tilden since, BUT only recently feels comfortable trying monogamy again after meeting Tzipporah.

Bragi unfortunately died badly to a creature in a traumatic backstory incident that left young Loam super fucking bereft and hyper aware of how easy it is to die. (Big monster attack + group of trainee rangers accompanied by a few more senior rangers + chaos and bloodshed. Loam carried Bragi to safety and tried resuscitating him but he was already gone. The experience made him uncomfortable with the idea of being in a defined, monogamous intimate relationship for the next like. 19 years. He felt like he got ripped in half!)

After the ranger's guild recovers from THE CREATURE ATTACK, Loam meets his close friend, Reece, a fellow ranger and Kenku (she looks like a masked shrike)!!!

He gets his septum pierced by the same visiting merchants from Quietus a few years after Bragi's death. It's a very important moment for him, where it feels like he can finally start to let himself change and grow beyond that event. He also spends more and more time in the city, away from the more rural/overgrown districts, and chases a love for the arts and partying and people, where he meets Kallirhoe (human, not a even a classed bard but like. an indie musician. an eboy if high fantasy had eboys. a tattooed twinkish fellow. you know the type)! They are very good friends who also have sex. Many days spent waxing poetic about THE BIG WIDE WORLD and how they'll never get to see it. (Spoiler: He sees it)

Loam gets into tarot as a hobby, and makes his own deck in a very scribbly freehand style with ink and charcoal!!!! he's slowly replacing them with more Worldly artwork - the deck he left home with was very. Tildencore

Many good years of being a party girl who has to go work a construction job tomorrow and then go be a ranger at 6. A rich and storied life. AND THEN THE GAME TIMELINE STARTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A path Through the bog has recently finished being built by Dagda, the Southern representative to the other Quarter Cities, making more trade possible overland, and making local tensions go even crazier. Also there are strange Awful Huge Scary Monsters appearing WORLDWIDE, so the Directions and the Three Kings of Scarabae and the remote island of Geest (ADRA'S HOME!) and the mysterious magical Widow's Wood are all like "STOP WAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RN". Trials are held in the Western city of Dina to appoint FOUR TEAMS OF FOUR to help defend against the new threat. Loam is like. Well I've gotta fucking do that. I've got to try. If I'm not chosen, at least I've set foot outside. He has a fight with his mom about this, because she is terrified she will lose him, like she lost her mother in a previous conflict when Scarabae was occupying the Quarter, before Loam was born. He stands firm and his dad has his back, and ultimately he leaves with both their blessings, but his dismissal of his mom's feelings weighs heavy on him the longer he's away from home. (He has a big cry and reconciliation about this when he is next able to come home.)

I'm clapping and cheering and skipping joyfully because now he HAS MET HIS BESTEST, DEAREST, CLOSEST FRIENDS IN THE ENTIRE WORLD: ADRA ILSA AND TALEE!!!!!!! I have to be so careful now because we have no joke hundreds of pages of notes. I cannot read that shit on google docs mobile app. We are approaching session one hundred and fifty of this game. They love each other so fucking much. THEY ARE THE INFORMATION GATHERERS!!! A PARTY OF SLEUTHS!!!

He also has his meet-cute with Tzipporah at the trials, which in hindsight is hilarious, because of the whole, "Tzipporah was sent to the trials as a spy (by the very people responsible for the giant awful monster crisis) and immediately pegged Loam for an easy mark to get information from" thing. And he was 100% correct. But a lot has to happen before that gets revealed. They took a nice night walk and write each other big long letters. And Loam tells him soooooo much <3

At one point while exploring a wizard tower he attunes to a lightly cursed ring and forgets what his parents look like, like their likenesses are Gone from past and recent memory. Which is a big thorn of homesickness that he writes to them about. He has a big cry and stares at them both for a LONG time when he next sees them.

Also they save an orphaned Kenku from some bandits and now Loam has a little shoulder-sniper named Bubby. We have a son. A perfect little crow son who is really good at killing, with arrows. He hides things in Loam's hood regularly

Other major things include ummm umm Loam's TWO deaths, one during a dungeon-rescue type scenario in a room that was Flooding and full of Phantoms and also a charmed Druid (Feyan, good friends now) wildshaped into a big scary water snake. He was hurt bad and (comedically) levitated so he wouldn't DROWN but then got Phantom Speared right through the torso. Second one was because Tzip's evil half brother Vences was like, mad at him for being a good influence on Tzipporah and interfering with the spy duties. Chill touch so no healing + dagger in the ribs! Ow. Also the reveal that Tzip was a spy was happening like, simultaneously here so we were yowling and screaming. (Well. Talee and Co had their long time hunches about this. Loam and I had turned a beautiful blind eye to all suspicious activity)

ANYWAY HIS DEATH SCARS LOOK LIKE A COMET ABOVE HIS BELLY!!!! The spear scar made a patch of his fur turn white (front and back), and the dagger scar is its crude tail!

I am skipping over so many plot revelations i. This is just the Loam Cut. and it's not even all of it.

His buzzcut was for emotional superstitious reasons!!! He cut it after Death 2 and Tzipporah getting taken against his will back into Evil Gang. Loam's mom has a lock of his hair at home now. ALL THIS TO SAY TZIP IS OKAY, NO LONGER SPYING, WE RESCUED HIM AND RIPPED A MASK OFF HIM AND SAVED HIM FROM GETTING HIS MIND EXCAVATED ! SO LOAM IS GROWING HIS HAIR OUT AGAIN!

The deaths of his close friends and their allies have also been. insane for him to process. To return someone to life in this setting u need to like. entreat a Titan. plead on the deceased's behalf and offer something up for the chance to revive them. (NO player spells like revivify. house rule) So interacting with these entities he sees as like Both forces of the natural world AND of huge religious/cultural importance regionally. And to have their requests be HEARD? He loves magic he loves Titans. And the plot is unfolding in such a way that scares me so bad. He loves his titan (The Curious Spear) SOOOO MUCH he has like the foundational belief that it can see through his eyes. Even if not true it motivates him to always seek understanding of strange new things.

Oh my god I didn't even talk about his multiclass into druid. He's a druid also. Circle of the Stars!! As a navigational point. He loves them. He loves space. He loves geography and regional interpretations of constellations. He used to just do freehand observations but truly became dedicated to charting the skies of every place the party travels to, after Tzipporah gifted him a grid-lined journal <3 <3 <3 STARRY FORM!!!!!!

His awe and inspiration and hunger for knowledge is the well he draws magical power from. My Boy is thematically bound up in the soggiest parts of this earth and also the unknowably distant stars above and I'm normal about it (lie) (There is a new and scary Third Thing rising which is the space between. I <3 Void). I know i draw him beige and green but his like, character colour theme is. Dusk to me. Gloaming. When the world is lit like a dream <3

In summary. In conclusion. He and Adra and Ilsa and Talee (and the rest of the Four of Four) are trying to prevent Global Disaster of an existential scale never before seen and are being very brave about it.

Loam wants to understand everything about Everything. Because understanding is love. Unfortunately there are hostile resentful and vengeful forces making this hard to do. Most recently by saving a city we Unmade a magically sustained centuries-old library. And we haven't had time to like fully let that sink in. Because of the horrors of war and being Four of Four means responding to emergencies and protecting cities as best we can against a foe that was forgotten by history until like, 10 months ago. Less, even. I hope this is anything. I hope u are his friend now too because he is yours

good lord how could i forget. His gender is male in such a way that he does not give a shit about it. He's one of the girls. He's genderless. Like a knight. His sense of identity is built on Living Laughing and Loving.

his personal goals are 1. to uncurse the bog in such a way that the wrongs committed by Tilden historically are brought to light and righted, 2. to get super married to Tzipporah and build a house together, and 3. to somehow, eventually, through great teamwork and effort, cure(?) the dreadful lingering soul plague on the island of demeter. HUMBLE! OH and to make a finished star chart covering the entire planet. humble.

thank u for reading here are his current stats

#titan campaign #loam #aart #theres some secret goodies under the readmore btw #IM SOOOOOO SORRY FOR THE CHAOTIC FORMATTING AND HOW MUCH I JUMP AROUND #i will happily answer more questions. and i wont take months to respond i promi #GRIFF... THANK YOU SM

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silentmagi · 4 months

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Rising Star

Main Page

I’m hoping that you are all still enjoying the tales. We’re moving along at a good pace, and I hope that you all are ready or what’s to come.

The winner of this poll was:

The druid’s history of magic

The chief stared at the stars with unfocused eyes before speaking. “Our history of magic?” he asked, catching Star’s attention. Focusing on the two guests, he motioned towards the sitting area around the fire, where food was being prepared. “Come, let us talk about our history, I believe that you will find it interesting.”

As they settled in, he cleared his throat and began. “Many ages ago, when man was young, and the gods had not left this world. There were friends that walked different paths… and yet wove together a harmony.”

Ivy the dryad watched the human girl curiously. They were often in her glade, and always fun to watch. She would sign, juggle, or dance to pass the time. It was always a joy to watch her celebrate being in nature.

Then one day the human woman came to the glade crying under the very tree that Ivy was inside. Finding her long time source of joy, suffering, Ivy emerged from her tree and drifted closer, reaching out with her thin branches that were mimicking the human fingers. “Why does water leak from you?” she asked quietly as her hand contacted the crying woman.

The woman leaped at the contact and voice, whirling and eyes going wide. “Oh… uh… hello? I’m Belle, I didn’t know I was intruding…” she answered while bowing. “I apologize for coming unbidden.”

“Belle… what makes the water fall from your eyes, and the light fade from your face?”

Belle looked at the strange creature before telling her tale. Her father had pulled her aside, and told her that they were going to lose the land if their crops failed again. The lands had been blighted for crops, and the farms were failing. She didn’t know what to do.

“Let Ivy help! You sing for Ivy, many times. Now Ivy makes land sing for you, take Ivy there!” the dryad had stated eagerly to repay the girl that had filled her days with such warmth and joy. “The Belle will sign again, yes?”

And so the girl took her fan to the edge of the farmland, and showed the sick plants. With the dryad looking over the land, she reached out and touched the dying leaves. “Sing for Ivy, sing for plants.”

At that command, Ivy touched Belle’s hand and a warmth washed over her. Her song rang out, a soft and gentle melody beseeching the plants to grow. From the high sun to the setting she sang her songs, and under the moon, the field was lively and growing. Ivy smiled and patted Belle on the handle before fading into a nearby tree.

Belle returned to the glade and sang again, this time Ivy emerged and watched from a branch, listening to the grateful song. Then they talked for a time, and the Belle mentioned that there was no rain, and that was hurting the plants. Ivy paused for a moment before nodding. “Come, Ivy take you to Eddy.”

Eddy was a water spirit that Ivy had spoken with before living in a spring nearby, and after the dryad had told the tale of what Belle had done for her, and the boon, Eddy asked for her to sing for her, and took her hand. By the end of the song, a storm had started, the steady driving rain covering the lands in water that soaked into the ground.

Long was the friendship of the three, with much singing and joy. The lands rejoiced around them, with Ivy and Eddy letting Belle use their control over the worlds. Eventually, Belle found herself able to do little things without her friends, and was overjoyed to show them.

Then a danger came to the glade and the pond. A beast that hunted Ivy and Belle hungry and snarling. They wanted to warn Belle, to keep her away, however they could not without being harmed. So Belle came, singing and dancing with a basket. The beast heard her approach, and sat down tilting its head this way and that at the singing. Coming into the glade she had always found safe, Belle continued singing, and the beast listened.

She set out food and settled on the root she always sat, singing happily about the farms and fields, and skies above. The beast moved closer, settling before her and then laid its head in her lap. She fed it food, and soon the beast faded, and her eyes took on the yellow color and slitted pupils of the beast.

From that, she was able to talk to the birds and creatures of the forest.

The gifts of magic, bought with joy and song lead to many more, and Belle taught those that found the way to the glade, sharing the gifts with them. It is said that Belle never aged, remaining with Ivy and Eddy long past normal human life, happy and singing.

“Sometimes late at night, you can hear her voice in the wind, guiding druids to where they are needed,” the chief concluded with a smile. “Come now, time to eat!”

The two travelers were provided plates of food, mainly vegetables and simple grains, with preserved and cooked meats. “Excuse me, how did you know I was curious about the history of magic?” Star asked between bites.

“Oh, there are many who speak to us, if we but know how to listen. While our magic is gone, we still remember our lessons, and embrace nature with a song. After you sleep, one of our numbers will take you through the shortcut. I hope this helps you with your mission.”

“Thank you?” Star asked, sharing a look with Luna as the chief gives a knowing wink towards thin air.

#Story #My Writing #Rising Star #My Polls #Star #World Building #Please Participate #Star Main

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dracobrooklyn · 8 months

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Durge Headcannon #2

|| MDNI || 18+

Durge's relationship towards the other Party Members If you don't know, this is about if Cannon Durge was a Companion instead of a playable character. These are my headcannons so not everything is cannon. If you want more Durge check this Masterlist here

also the Tav!Reader is in a Fem!POV

CW: threesome, murder, and killing.

Durge very much is in love with Tav!Reader, after connecting with you, how kind and patient you are with the White Dragonborn. He very much loves the way you comfort him, how you talk to him almost anything that comes to your mind, he loves listening to your voice. So How does he feel about the other Members of your party around you? And around him?

Astarion

Safe to Say Durge isn't a huge fan of Astarion. The pale elf being very much cocky, arrogant, and never gives you any respect. Durge glares maybe even curls a lip growling softly. He could care less about what happens to the elf. Even when he found out he is a vampire! He quickly get's over protective over you, a slave to Sanguine. He wasn't gonna let you get bitten by this coward. If Astarion tries to flirt with you, Durge comes up from behind you protective. Besides Durge want's you, he be a better match than Astarion. He actually cares about you, this vampire just wants you as a blood bag that's all. Even when you and Durge become a couple, and Astarion offers to join you both in a threesome, Durge would flat out say no, end of story, he rather smear Knoll shit onto his face than let Astarion share the same bed roll with you. He's fine with you and Astarion being friends but... if Astarion tries to pull something on you, Durge won't hesitate to beat the shit out of him... maybe kill him if he get's away with it.

Shadowheart

He does not mind the half elf girl, the cleric that isn't too bad around you. She does at least give you some sort of respect as an ally and maybe even a friend. Shadowheart might be one of the few people that maybe notices Durges feelings towards you. She even was amused with the idea but even questioned, how would a DragonBorn be like in a relationship. Though Durge is a strange one, especially when he has no memories of his past. She might even be protective of you the reader if she finds out what Durge has done hurting and killing their enemies. The way he does it, if it's over the top. Shadowheart will confront Durge about it. She be weary of him and tell you if she is not sure if Durge can be trusted.

Karlach

Durge actually likes Karlach. Despite her very positive upbeat attitude. He does like her, she treats with you respect, is kind to you, and does not talk down to you. I like to think Karlach kinda finds Durge attractive. Being a DragonBorn and all, she may even might notice Durges smitten face when he looks at you in love. Like a love sick puppy. She smile and comes up from behind him giving him a good slap on the back and say "twitterpated aren't we solider?" causing Durge to trip on his words blushing trying to change the subject while she has a shit eating grin showing her sharp teeth. She might even try to hook you two up. Maybe... maybe even join in the sex action. Durge might actually consider it... if she didn't burn you both. He would say yes as long you were okay with it of course if you were interested. But if Karlach (like Shadowheart) finds out what kind of things Durge did. Oh boy oh boy, consider the friendship bracelet gone. She would get in between you and Durge glaring at him burning with anger. (no pun intended)

Lae'Zel

Heh uh... she may like Durge because of his blood thirsty fight in battle. And he may appercaite that... but if she calls you weak and useless because you are not as battle hungry as she is. Durge will snarl. Step right up to her and speak up. "I will you not have you speak so lowly of her, she's the one that got you out of that trap, she's the one that saved the druids grove with our help, she is the one keeping the peace between all of us, you should thank her, because I would have ripped your arm off." causing the Githyanki woman to narrow her eyes at him. She might tsk at him or making the last retort walking away from him. Durge won't interact with Lae'zel unless he really has to. But if she threatens to hurt you, he will not hesitate to rip her apart. Oh if she even tries to seduce Durge, he will lean so close to her face in a low whisper "Even if you and were the only ones in this plain of existence, I would rather be a mindflayer than share a bedroll with you." And honestly that might hurt her a little but she won't show it of course. Durge heart is only to you, and only you.

Wyll

Would they be dude bros? Maybe? Durge does not mind Wyll at all. The man has honor, he's protective, he treat you with respect and that's what Matters to Durge. Though if he does come a little close towards you, Durge makes a look at him as if "nu uh, mine." Wyll would get the message though. Like Karlach he might even help Durge hook up with you. Give Durge advice what to say but most importantly Wyll will just tell Durge to be himself. Yeah which one? Durge also would also feel bad for Wyll with his mishap being a warlock and all. Durge would definitely spit down at Mizora feet just to stand up for Wyll. Fuck that bitch honestly.

Gale

Funny guy... stop flirting with my girlfriend don't you already have a lover? Durge very much has mixed feelings with this guy. He can be useful but when he learns that he needs to eat magic items to live or else he will explode and die? WHAT? Why the hell is he with party again? Oh cause he's infected too. When he learns about how his lover is goddess, I mean yeah he must think she is pretty-- oh she's actually a goddess. Oh... poor chap. He definitely would be a little jealous that Durge has you instead of him, but he would give Durge advice to "Seduce" a woman. Durge not sure if they would work... maybe one night he will use that advice. Maybe... eh. But Durge wouldn't pity Gale for doing that to himself where he explode not given enough magic items to eat. Also ticks Durge off cause he finds an item he can use to kill enemies and then Gale looks at him as if saying "for me?" while Durge growls wanting to roll his eyes in the back of his head pissed and just hands it to him. Also Wizards vs Sorcerer. Mortals enemies for life (no just kidding). But Gale will boast about being better than Durge when it comes to magic causing the DragonBorn to give Gale a side glance glare. "At least I was born with magic and don't have to kill myself for it." Durge would say causing Gale to frown.

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littlejuicebox · 8 months

Text

Midnight Chimes 4 / Ringleader

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader Warlock.

Word Count: 2,415

Summary/Setting: You and Astarion have met before, though you think it meant more to you than it did to him. You are an apothecary shop owner that has recently gained some mysterious Warlock powers; Astarion is, in your eyes, a rake that you wouldn’t trust as far as you can throw him. You two run into one another again after the nautiloid crash.

Preview:

It hadn’t really been you that found the three new party members, after all. It had been your patron. The blasted thing seemed to alternate between completely ignoring you and positively strong arming you into submission. And it seemed unfortunately hellbent on collecting every straggler along the way of this little adventure. Though you supposed the cleric, the githyanki, and the Blade would likely prove to be more useful additions than the pale elf sitting nearby. But how could you explain the connection to the celestial being to Gale or anyone else if you did not truly understand the connection yourself? How could you explain they were putting their trust in the wrong person for the job? Gods, you needed to get back to Baldur’s Gate and head to Sorcerous Sundries. Surely they would have some information about this unwilling bond. And speaking of unwilling bonds…

Warnings: eventual smut and gore 18+ / in game spoilers / angst, trauma, fluff

A/N: Finally feeling (almost) 100% back to my normal, healthy self! Thank you for the good vibes and well wishes! <3

The warlock, the wizard, and the rogue.

This little group started off with the makings of some ridiculous fairytale your parents would have read to you before bed.

Though, despite your parents wishes, you hadn’t really been a child interested in fairytales and make believe. Your penchant for pragmatics had developed early on, and before long mama and papa had all but given up on their dreams of a perfect princess daughter. In her place stood some sort of mad scientist… at least in their eyes.

You hadn’t actually been mad. Not then, at least. Though you were starting to worry that between the parasite and your patron, you might truly be going crazy now. No doubt the two were at war, trying to determine who would wrestle ultimate control of your mind.

Should you simply choose between the lesser of two evils, when your fate already feels sealed as it is?

Gale and Astarion had blindly followed your lead the first day, and remained silent every time you decided to stop and change course, prodded in another direction by the celestial being playing with your psyche. This abrupt switch in traveling plans led you all to Lae’zel, where you convinced the tieflings to let her go, and Shadowheart, as she desperately tried to break open the door of some abandoned ruins.

Astarion had simply picked the lock of the ruins, earning him some clout among the others for his skill set and further suspicion from you. After all, why exactly did a man like Astarion have any need for a skill like that?

Subsequently, the five of you explored the dank, dilapidated building. After downing a handful of humanoids and some reanimated corpses, the group happened upon a strange, skeletal being named Withers. He said he would see you again soon.

After a relatively restless night in camp, you all happened upon the Grove on the second day of exploration. Some druid named Halsin is missing, though it turns out he may be the answer to your little predicament, Nettie tried to poison you (stupid, really, to try to poison an apothecary with one of the most basic tricks in the book), you saved a little tiefling thief from death, and then you met Wyll… all in a couple of hours.

The Blade of Frontiers is looking for some devil he’s supposed to kill; he’s also got a tadpole in his head, and like Gale, seems in relatively good spirits for such a grim situation. Those two seem suspiciously well-adjusted.

The entire journey thus far had only been two days long and exceedingly… well, odd.

It was certainly a much different experience from your day to day of brewing potions and tending the shop. You wanted nothing more than to return to the comforts of city life. But instead, you were forced to be the unwilling ringleader of this circus, despite your protests on the matter.

You are discussing your concerns about leadership with Gale as the group takes a short rest not far from the Grove. Wyll is gathering the last of his supplies and will meet up with all of you in mere moments.

“Oh, but you’re doing a fantastic job, Demetria!” Gale exclaims, somehow unfailingly supportive of a woman he barely knew.

Oh, how you wished to trust anyone half as much.

“You have such remarkable intuition. We wouldn’t have found Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Wyll, or all this great loot without you!” He continues, before gesturing to a handful of gold and scrolls while positively beaming.

The wizard clasps a friendly hand on your back and then scans the surrounding area. He smiles at you once more, “Now I plan to make myself useful and harvest some flora! If you plan to make use of that newly procured cauldron, I best give you materials to work with.”

You smile softly and nod at the wizard before he disappears into the shrubbery. Brewing potions was easy; you could craft all the basic ones by memory alone. But leading a group of people through the wilds based on some sort of fabled intuition and instinct? You weren’t so sure about that.

And it seemed unfortunately hellbent on collecting every straggler along the way of this little adventure. Though you supposed the cleric, the githyanki, and the Blade would likely prove to be more useful additions than the pale elf sitting nearby.

But how could you explain the connection to the celestial being to Gale or anyone else if you did not truly understand the connection yourself? How could you explain they were putting their trust in the wrong person for the job?

Gods, you needed to get back to Baldur’s Gate and head to Sorcerous Sundries. Surely they would have some information about this unwilling bond. And speaking of unwilling bonds…

Astarion is perched on a fallen log, basking in the midday sun’s rays. He’s the picture of relaxation, as if this entire sordid affair is a holiday away from Baldur’s Gate.

Sure, the pale elf had been helpful in battle, and he seemed to have a strange knack for opening locks, but as far as participating in camp efforts went, he certainly left a lot to be desired. You should have guessed as much. With the princely attitude and haughty confidence, it was likely he was merely another spoiled, rich elf. He reminded you of…

Nevermind.

You look to Shadowheart, hoping to pursue a conversation with the woman, but she is a few feet away, resting on her knees in prayer. Lae’zel is also preoccupied as she meticulously sharpens her already deathly blade. You’ve spent almost all day trying to intentionally avoid Astarion and keep any conversation with him to a minimum. But as everyone else seems busy doing their own thing, you’re left with no choice but to take a few minutes of reprieve near the rogue.

You sigh and nestle yourself on the ground, unwilling to take the empty spot on the log next to Astarion; sitting like an animal in the dirt seemed the better option for your pride. As you lean back to stretch your aching muscles, the warm country breeze picks up, swirling around the elf’s silver curls. You are sitting downwind from the rogue, and the gust pushes a whiff of bergamot and rosemary in your direction.

You can’t help it. The fragrance angers you. Astarion hadn’t even written to you once, even to send a simple rejection or at least compliment your sample. He’d wasted your time on your last few hours of vacation three years ago. All for what, exactly?

He hadn’t even gotten to bed you, which had surely been his goal, in the end.

You glare at him, in all his world-endingly beautiful privilege, as he simply lounges about in the sun as if nothing is wrong.

“It seems you liked my perfume sample enough to procure a rip off of it, but not enough to write.” You state coolly, watching the pale elf as he snaps his eyes open to study you. You notice him thinking, no doubt calculating some sort of smooth response.

“You can save the piss-poor excuses, Astarion.” You sigh, now reaching into your pack, trying to find the small vial of perfume oil you’d had inside your robes when that ship snatched you up. You open the vial and take a deep breath, basking in the comfort of familiarity.

It smelled like home. Like your quaint little townhome, in Waterdeep. Too bad scents can’t transport you back in time… at least not literally.

There are a few beats of silence as Astarion watches you.

“I do apologize for not recognizing you before, and for not writing…” He begins, slowly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal, “I lost your card. I have a tendency to be… forgetful. And I lose things a lot. But, I did quite like the scent, as you can tell.”

You nod, acknowledging the apology but not willing to acquiesce any further. You cannot decipher if Astarion’s words are the truth or if they are simply honeyed lines meant to subdue you. Your pinky finger presses against the perfume bottle’s rim and you rub a bit of the fragranced liquid behind your ears.

The wind shifts, blowing your thick, dark hair forward around your face, obscuring your vision. You cap the small vial and then quickly tie your hair back. When you are able to see again, Astarion is almost gawking at you, scarlet eyes blown wide in surprise.

He shifts and recovers quickly, jerking his gaze away and running a hand through his windswept curls. When he speaks, his voice has a manufactured, airy nonchalance to it, “It is quite windy out here, isn’t it?”

You don’t respond, and he turns to face you once again. His jaw tenses for a moment, and then he leans back, assessing you once more. He tries another tactic.

“That is… another lovely scent that you’re wearing.” He murmurs, and this time, the genuine, hesitant intrigue in his voice catches you off guard.

“Thank you,” You begin, and despite yourself, you are flattered by his statement. You truly love when others notice and compliment the artistry of your craft. You shrug and offer the vial to Astarion. Perhaps a small olive branch is due, if the two of you are stuck tethered together for who knows how long.

The rogue takes the bottle and inhales the fragrance, and then he emits a noise that sounds something like a soft moan or groan. It’s a deep, uninhibited sound from the back of his throat, almost as if he’s absolutely losing himself in the scent. When he focuses on you again, there’s a relaxed look in his eyes paired with a soft, unguarded smile. It reminds you of the way he looked at you in your parent’s tavern.

“Delicious…” He murmurs, his tone dropping into that salacious one he’d used on you at the tavern all those years ago, when asking if you planned to murder someone with poisons. Something about the way he said the word while staring directly into your eyes, his pupils blown from the fragrance he’d just inhaled, made your face grow hot.

You aren’t interested in a rake, and you won’t be fooled again, you remind yourself. No matter how beautiful the bastard truly is.

You extend your hand out, motioning for the vial and he obliges with a disappointed tut.

“It’s a combination of lavender, sage, and vanilla.” You explain, tucking the precious vial back into your pack.

“And what else? There’s something else, isn’t there? It’s the same thing that was in the sample you gave me.” He responds, eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

You laugh in genuine surprise, “Good nose. Are you trying to steal my recipe so that when you return to Baldur’s Gate, you can have an exact duplication instead of the lesser version you have now, Astarion?”

You are partly joking, partly serious.

The elf shakes his head, brows crinkling together in absent thought, “No… merely curious, I suppose. I’ve never smelt anything quite like your concoctions. I have to admit the memory of the scent from that night has… stayed with me. I would have written to you to tell you as much, if I could have. If I hadn’t… lost your card.”

You squint your eyes. There is something genuine in Astarion’s statement, despite the strange excuse about losing the card. Sure, he may have truly lost it. But then, he could have simply returned to the Drunken Dragon and asked your cousin for your address.

The next time you visited your family on holiday, after your conversation with the rake, your cousin indicated the elf hadn’t been by since that night. When you asked about Astarion every year, feigning nonchalance, your family always indicated he hadn’t been seen.

It was almost as if he were avoiding the Drunken Dragon altogether for those three years.

You’d ultimately assumed he moved away… or perhaps died, murdered by one of his jealous lovers.

“It’s dragonsblood… just a drop.” You admit, eyeing the silver-haired elf with suspicious curiosity.

A sudden bark of laughter escapes Astarion’s lips. And then his head tips back and he positively cackles in a mixture of amusement and delight. He seems to find this information exceptionally hilarious. Your brows stitch together in confusion as you watch the rogue chortle.

Sure, it was an unusual additive. But it wasn’t exactly hilarious, was it?

“Dragonsblood!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together in front of him as his eyes crinkle with mirth, “How… unique. You are quite the artist, Demetria.”

You feel the flush rise in your cheeks at the compliment while you murmur another thank you. Surely he’s flattering you, trying to ingratiate himself and hoping you’ll forgive his slight against you, isn’t he?

Astarion’s eyes flit between yours now, and he hums in thought, “You look… different. From my memory at the tavern.”

“Really? Well you didn’t actually remember me at all until the parasite helped you, so I’m not quite sure how reliable your memory of me is. You look the same as I remember.” You deadpan, instantly trying to deflect from his observation.

You know what he means… the ring hadn’t just affected your mind. It has permanently altered the color of your eyes into a strange purple, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. But you aren’t ready to share anything about your patron or the damn ring with anyone else just yet.

Astarion cocks his head, and he is about to say something more, but then Gale is bursting back through the brush. His eyes are wide with apprehension as he looks between you and the rogue. The concerned expression on your otherwise affable campmate causes everyone in the vicinity to quickly rise to their feet.

Gale grimaces as he addresses his new traveling companions with some level of unease, “I think you all might want to see this.”

And then he disappears back into the brush without another word. Part of you thinks you shouldn’t follow him, but you do anyway. After all, how could this possibly get stranger than it already is?

Your patron is laughing again. Poor little apothecary, you have no idea.

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ronkoza · 2 years

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Stjerne „Arne” Mossvik (D&D canon)

Stjerne was born as the second of all his three brothers: Coalham, Enrike and Ivvorlyn. He was a son of a druid Cian and cleric Aine. They all used to live in a firbolg clan in the mountains, at place named Kalavag. Stjerne was a herbalist in Mielikki temple, helped taking care of plants and used to make potions and mix herbs.

But there was something wrong going with the world. Across the continent strange rifts started to appear, rifts which led to different planes of existence and these planes started to affect places. One rift appeared near the village where Stjerne lived, and black mist and creatures of Shadowfell came out of this rift, spreading death and chaos. Stjerne wasn’t able to save his youngest brother Ivvor who died in his hands. The whole clan disappeared, and only Stjerne, who fled frightened and hid, was left. He was alone, without his clan and family, touched by Shadowfell, which left a terrible feeling of emptiness and loneliness in his heart, making living on a material plane of existence as a nightmare.

This is when his patron, the unicorn called Stareyed, found him and filled this hole in his heart with the celestial light to chase the shadow. Stjerne was gifted with Stareyed’s magic to help him survive and to protect and heal others. It let Stjerne to call a familiar from Feywild, a squirrel named Vincent, who is his companion from this day.

In his free time he likes to play pan flute and makes a little sculptures and things from wood with woodcarver’s tools. He also inherited antlers from his mother, who was touched by Feywild (she used to live near rift leading to Feywild before she came to Kalavag and met Cian). After the tragedy, Stjerne stopped using his full name, feeling that now he has no family and he’s not worthy of being part of it since he cowardly run away when other was fighting, and used to call himself „Arne”.

Stjerne has quiet personality, he’s gentle and talks only when the situation demands it. But he’s also curious and carrying. In his heart he’s missing the family warmth and love he knew from his past days. Because of not being able to save his brother, Stjerne often sees himself as too weak or not being able to protect those he love, that he’s a bother. He may appear as someone not very interesting and boring, since he’s quiet and avoids violence and aggression and always try first to find a diplomatic solution.

„Arne” Stjerne Bláithín Mossvik (Modern AU)

Arne is half Irish and half Norwegian, he spend his whole life in Ireland and lately his family (parents and brothers, Coal, Enri and Ivvor) moved to Norway where his father used to live. Arne was studying music and gaelic language (sometimes he’s translating old poems), used to sing, play piano and guitar, he writes poems and songs. Usually he works in a tea shop and in the meantime plays in cafes and clubs. He loves to do embroidery, and he used to decorate all his clothes with colorful flowery patterns. He’s often gone wandering one the woods or hills.

He’s an extrovert, curious and optimistic, always happy and seeing the beauty of the world. He talks much, often changing subjects, when his thoughts run free to meadows and valleys. He’s a gentle soul, often daydreaming, a bit chaotic in regular life, often missing to do something. Sometimes when he’s happy he can start singing something randomly. But he’s also a good listener, always curious about others and their lives and hobbies. He’s also polite when it comes to deal with people and shy when he’s complimented.

„Arne” is not the real name of Stjerne in any universe, it’s just a pronunciation fun and nickname. In modern AU, when Stjerne was introducing himself, people misheard him, because his name was so weird, and thought of more common name. And Stjerne started to use it.

And Mossvik family tree:

#arne #arne mossvik #stjerne #stjerne mossvik #original character

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justcallmefox89 · 10 months

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Gale and the Gith: Chapter Two - Midday

X'aa'nath becomes increasingly distracted by the wizard.

“Tell me Lae’zel, what is it like on the Astral Plane? Your home realm intrigues me.”

“Githyanki lay their eggs on other Planes. They cannot mature in the Astral.”

I frown, my eyes flickering between the wizard and my kin. In that moment I cannot decide who I’m more annoyed with; my kin for revealing our people’s secrets to a human, or the wizard for asking her instead of me. I shake my head.

Why should I care who he asks? Not that kin would even know, really, as she's not obtained a mindflayer's head yet.

“Tadpole bothering you?” Karlach asks, plopping down beside me.

I shake my head again, taking another bite of my strip of dried meat, nearly retching at the tough texture and overly salty taste. I sneer down at the offending piece of meat, forcing myself to swallow. I glare over at Karlach for good measure, for it had only been at her insistence that we stop for ‘lunch’, and partake in this paltry offering of food, purchased from the local spellcasters. The wizard called them druids, but from all I’ve observed their weak magic is only able to influence the native flora and some fauna.

Poor warriors. Using their magic to hold a defensive position and seal themselves away from the world.

I huff, ripping off another bite of the disgusting meat.

“Tell me Gale, what is your interest in the Astral Plane?”

I flick my attention back to the human and my kin, oddly eager to hear his answer. Karlach chuckles softly, gently nudging me with her elbow. “I see now. Interested in getting a peek beneath Gale’s robes, huh?”

Shocked, I suck in a deep breath of air, choking on the bite of food in my mouth. Spluttering and coughing, tears rapidly fill my eyes as I desperately try to inhale some air. A warm hand rubs circles on my back, and a low, soothing voice in my ear eases some of my panic and I’m gradually able take in small gulps of air until I've calmed completely.

Gale’s large hands land on my shoulders, holding me steady. “Are you quite alright, X’aa’nath?”

I sway forward slightly, drawn by the soft, warm brown of his eyes. So different from the eyes of my kin, or any of the other species I’ve seen since arriving in Faerun. Gale’s eyes hold the promise of things I’ve never experienced, never even considered experiencing until pulling this strange wizard from his rock.

Khou’zal did not give his life for you to entertain such thoughts about a human, of all things. Especially when you have more pressing concerns, such as the ghaik tadpole squirming it’s way through your brain.

I shoot to my feet, inadvertently knocking Gale over into the dirt, where he lands on his ass with a small thump. I dart towards my kin, towards familiarity and structure, away from Gale and all of the uncomfortable feelings he creates within me.

******************************************************************

“You alright, Gale?” Karlach asks, hauling him to his feet, trying to hide her smile.

“Just a slightly bruised posterior,” he answers easily, brushing the dirt from his robes. “Thank you, Karlach. Though I am a mite confused at our companion’s reaction to my sudden proximity.”

Astarion cackles from where he lounges beneath a tree alongside Shadowheart.

“Something amusing, Astarion?” Gale asks, scowling at the pale elf.

“Don’t pout, darling. You’ll give yourself more wrinkles,” Astarion airily replies. “Let’s just say I’m interested in how things are going to develop. Very interested indeed.”

Karlach bites back a smile at Gale’s befuddled look. The elf is right. Their little group of misfits is about to get even more interesting.

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bbcmerlin-reversebang · 5 months

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BBC Merlin Reverse Bang Masterlist

Thank you to all the fantastic artists and writers who participated in this round of the fest! Without further ado, here is the masterlist for the 2023-2024 BBC Merlin Reverse Bang!

So Familiar A Gleam

Artist: MerlinLikeThe Bird

Writer: Excited_Insomniac

Summary: They say the druid in the forest who guards the sword in the stone has never woken. Unchanging, no matter the season, no matter how many years go by; lost in a dream that will only be broken by the Once and Future King.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54501022

***

Agate

Artist: Papysanzo89

Writer: ironfamjam

Summary: “I’ll give you whatever you want,” the king says, shoulders drawn back, “just help me save my people.”

The sun strikes his face and for a moment, Arthur looks made of gold. Pretty, Emrys can’t help but think. But still just a man.

“Whatever I want?” Emrys’ smirk widens, “I want your pride. Now bow down to me and beg.”

When long-time immortal and full-time hater of humanity, the great Emrys himself, finds the newly crowned King Arthur at his doorstep asking for his help, he gets way more than he bargained for on their journey to revive Camelot’s old wards and save the kingdom from war. Unfortunately for him, he's going to make friends, fall in love, and become a hero whether he wants to or not.

Or, Merlin's been waiting centuries for something to believe in.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54417334

***

Dragon of the Dawn

Artist: LikeAPaperPlane

Writer: SlantedKnitting

Summary: To avoid war with the Druids, Arthur lifts the ban on magic in Camelot. As a sign of peace, the Druids gift him a dragon egg. Now Arthur must decide if it would be wise to bring a dragon into the world, or if his interest in the egg is only due to the handsome Dragonlord who wields the power to hatch it.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54702940

***

World Within a World

Artist: MerlinLikeTheBird

Writer: Sage_Owl

Summary: "Stories never really end. They can go on and on and on. It's just that sometimes, at a certain point, one stops telling them." ― Mary Norton, The Borrowers

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54609637

***

Touched by Magic / in time of daffodils

Artist: willoswmarika

Writer: archaeologist_d

Summary: “When you’re touched by magic, nothing’s ever quite the same again.” Charles de Lint.

Five people discover Merlin’s magic. Their reactions might vary, but sometimes, acknowledging it is the hardest thing of all.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54803929

Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54802045

***

All That Lies Between Us

Artist: MerlinLikeTheBird

Writer: thetreeofwillow

Summary: With a gasp, Arthur wakes.

He wakes to the warmth of the blankets around him, the sight of the stars above and Merlin’s hand grasping his. He wakes surrounded; by softness, by love, by light. Gasping in breaths, he wakes holding tightly onto Merlin’s hand, tethering himself to the word through that strong, sure grip.

He wakes and he’s not alone and everything's better.

He settles back down, his breath not quite steady yet, but getting there. He holds on tight to Merlin’s hand, looks up at the stars and lets himself drift back off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that he’s free.

Merlin and Arthur are held captive together for a month in the dark.

Back in Camelot now, the two face all they went through with the help of one another, their friends, and the night sky.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54826897

***

Till Death Do Us Part

Artist: Sunfall_of_Ennien

Writer: Pearl09

Summary: The battle of Camlann is now, and Arthur just manages to survive the battle thanks to the sacrifice of a sorcerer who had strangely taken Camelot's side. When he later learns out that sorcerer was a disguised Merlin, however, he's left to try and patch his broken world back together. Meanwhile, Merlin thought he was dead but instead wakes up in Cenred's prison, the man in question having rescued Merlin to try and force him to join his army.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54895198

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Malediction Amplexus

Artist: griffonskies

Writer: Camelittle

Summary: Arthur is only trying to protect his idiot flat mate from a deranged person who claims to be a witch. But then she goes and blasts him with a "hug or die" curse. Not only does this force Arthur to swallow his pride and seek hugs from those who care from him, but also it turns his rationalist world view on its head. Despite all his best efforts to deny the fact, he's forced to confront the idea that maybe, just maybe, Merlin wasn't kidding about having magic after all.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54400465

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Overhead Of The Aqua Blue

Artist: Dollopbrain

Writer: lavenderspice

Summary: Merlin is not in love with Arthur. Arthur is not in love with Merlin. It's as simple as that.

But then, an impulsive decision made in the heat of the moment changes everything between them. The casual, friendly touches turn into fleeting kisses and meetings in hidden alcoves.

It's not anything serious though. Merlin and Arthur are still definitely not in love.

Or are they?

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54988165

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Light and Shadow

Artist: griffonskies

Writer: sacredraisincakes

Summary: "If love is light, then fear is its shadow." - LJ Vanier

Basking in the dawn of the golden age of Camelot, Arthur doesn't question anything when he is given the small token from Gwen and Lancelot's daughter. Why would he? He doesn't see anything wrong with the way his life is heading... Merlin, of course, questions everything, but the arrival of his mother with life changing news puts his questions aside for now.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55041709

Art: https://www.tumblr.com/griffcreations/747145662845616128/merlin-bbc-reverse-bang-202324-light-and-shadow

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Guardian Angel

Artist: Mirayla

Writer: ClotpolePoet

Summary: Set in a world where magical abilities manifest wings proportions to their power, Merlin, Arthur and the knights are sent on a months-long mission by the king.

Merlin struggles to find time to preen and care for his large wings during the journey, but when Arthur finds himself in danger, Merlin is forced to reveal them in order to save the prince and in doing so gets himself kidnapped and tortured.

Arthur and the knights are faced with saving Merlin from a deadly man whilst dealing with Merlin’s magic reveal revelation.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55075855

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The Totality of Partial Impressions

Artist: OnePepperCorn

Writer: s0mmerspr0ssen

Summary: Arthur starts his first year at Camelot University hoping to elude his father’s influence. But Uther’s control persists and Arthur soon faces the same pressures he had hoped to escape. To make matters worse, his roommate proves to be a complete pain in the arse, though Merlin thinks the same about Arthur. Unfortunately, Arthur is not only infuriating but infuriatingly attractive, and Merlin cannot help but wonder if Arthur’s guarded looks convey a deeper meaning – one he’s too afraid to admit to.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54425791

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The Other Side Of The Door

Artist: monoisbored

Writer: SaltedKiss

Summary: Arthur Pendragon chose to take on a fake name and major in History of Magic at Camelot University after finding out about the atrocities his father did to the magical community. He looked forward to learning more about magic users, but never expected to be attacked by an actual dragon the first time he met a sorcerer in person.

Starring: Cannonball Aithusa, Arthur "American Football Cosplayer " Pendragon & Merlin "Any excuse to take Arthur's shirt off" Emrys.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55103026

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a single thread of fate (tied me to you)

Artist: azimuthal

Writer: remaymber

Summary: Merlin paused, took a deep breath, and a delicate, red band appeared in front of him, softly flowing in the breeze. It was wrapped around his wrist and then disappeared into the distance.

Merlin took it between his fingers, held it as he focused on the gentle pull he felt. With his eyes, he followed the faint thread into the distance and couldn’t help but wonder who might be awaiting him on the other side.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55104175

Art: https://www.tumblr.com/azi-muthal/747649862663864320/my-contribution-to-the-bbcmerlin-reversebang-this

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Devouring Glory

Artist: Mirayla

Writer: gil-galadhwen

Summary: When a person with magic dies, where does their magic go?

Merlin has been feeling peculiar lately. The sun seems too bright and his skin feels unusually sensitive beneath his clothing. His magic seems to be growing too, in a way he’s unsure he can control. Like an unruly garden. Like he’s overflowing with it.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54716203

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Live for the hope of it all

Artist: Papysanzo89

Writer: MyKingdomComeUndone

Summary: At sixteen, during a hunt gone wrong, Arthur meets a strange boy in the woods—a boy who uses magic to save him, and goes by the name of Merlin. This is the story of an unlikely friendship, a friendship that ends up changing not only Arthur's life, but the future of all of Camelot.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/53840449

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Up Pendragon Creek Without an Oar

Artist: eachpeachpearplum

Writer: Laurieonalark

Summary: When Agravaine betrays the Pendragons, they lose everything- their money, their property, their status, it's all gone. With nothing to their name, they are forced to relocate to the sleepy town of Ealdor, living in the rundown Camelot Bed and Breakfast. It's nothing like any of them were prepared for, but it may just be exactly what Arthur and Morgana need.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55276900

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Towards the Stars

Artist: treasureguardingdragon

Writer: just_snakess

Summary: The year is 2372. When King Arthur finally returns, Merlin is on the other side of the solar system, and is helpless to prevent him being swept up by the government. Thus begins a journey across the solar system, crossing paths with crimelords, rebel leaders, and very, very old friends. Will it be enough to free Arthur? Or will the Once and Future King fall victim to a mysterious plot that threatens the very border between life and death?

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55300255

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Learning to defy expectations

Artist: treasureguardingdragon

Writer: Ace_Teagirl

Summary: When Arthur gets sent away by Uther to secure a treaty between Camelot and Tir-Mor, what should have been a normal diplomatic trip turns into more than Arthur could have expected. Along the way, he learns valuable lessons about trust, friendship and the weight of duty.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55365187

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Hide Yourself

Artist: ClotpolePoet

Writer: bang-the-smoke

Summary: When Merlin finds out about an assassination plot against Arthur that is set to happen sometime during the annual three-day masquerade ball that Camelot hosts, he is forced to enter the ball, disguised. How will he be able to save Arthur's life when the prince attempts to court him during the ball?

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55301731

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All My Scars Are For Him

Artist: Dollopbrain

Writer: ApproachRoach

Summary: “I was here a week ago,” Arthur blurted out. “Before, it was a desert—it almost killed me. Now it’s a rainforest.” Arthur stated. “I’ve only ever heard about rainforests in tales about magic, and in those stories, the magic was dormant. Its only purpose was to keep the forest alive. Here, I can even feel the magic in the air. And if I’m honest, it feels a little like coming home. It feels safe.” He stated it so simply Merlin almost didn’t realise the magnitude of what he was admitting.

His admission, if he was anyone else, would have him hanged.

Arthur Pendreagon is a lot of things; he is his fathers son. Camelot’s Prince. The Captain of the Knights. Himself, is rarely one of them.

What if, for once, he was not the things he was supposed to be and was simply, himself? He confesses something he had never really thought much of and somehow everything else does not matter anymore. He is himself and that is all that is important, he is finally, who he is meant to be; the Golden Prince

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55073416

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Four reasons to kill

Artist: wortvermis

Writer: Brechtjeeatscheese

Summary: George Brass has been killed.

Merlin is an undercover agent, it seems an afwull lot like the attack was meant for Uther Pendragon, CEO of Pendragon Inc. After some inspecting, Merlin can only come to one conclussion, his son, Athur Pendragon, has motive and oppurtunity, unfortunatly he has an alibi.

Merlin needs to go undercover in order to prove Arthur did it. What he didn't account for was that he would fall head over heels in love with Arthur. There is only one problem that rests, if Arthur didn't do it, then who did?

A tale about falling in love, hiding who you are, sacrificing everything for your job, and trying to catch a murderer while doing it all. No wonder Merlin is stressed and depressed.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55362367

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Le Démoniste et Le Dragon

Artist: Pearl09

Writer: Salamandair

Summary: Merlin moves to Camelot after the death of his mother to help his Uncle Gaius in his Apothecary and to get a fresh start away from his small village where no one liked his magic.

In Camelot, however, most people hate magic too. But why? What happened here that made everyone hate magic so quickly? What is Gaius keeping from him?

When Merlin is forced to seek refuge in an abandoned mansion a month after his arrival due to being chased by magic hating men, he is thrust into a world that will turn his request for a ��new start’ on its head.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55453966

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Echoes of Magic and Nature

Writer: HadrianPeverellBlack

Summary: After the lands of Camelot lose their life, it seems that hope for the kingdom is lost for good.

That is until Prince Arthur decides that he would save his people.

But he will not make this journey alone. He will have allies, even in the most unthinkable places.

After all, to heal the wounds made by an impure heart, it is needed the purest of them all.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55790572

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The Blue Butterflies Follow You (so do the moths)

Artist: zazrichor

Writer: Crimson_Fanfic_Writer_7

Summary: Arthur is fed up. He trusts Merlin with his life but he doesn’t think the same goes for Merlin. Merlin is hiding something, has been hiding something the entire time he has known him. It’s eating at him, it’s tainting their relationship in a subtle way he can’t even name.

Fortunately for him, there is a young druid who – even if not for the same reason – is fed up with Merlin’s lies as well. The young druid has grown up on stories of how the great Emrys will help the Once and Future King to unite the- blablabla yeah well WHEN is that going to happen though?! It’s been ten years, the oh so great master of magic could finally get a move on! Maybe he needs some incentive. Maybe he’s grown too accustomed to lying. Well, no more.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55807864

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You are Someone Else (I am still right here)

Artist: Stelle_Loves_Reading

Summary: “After Lancelot is gravely injured by a group of druid hunters, he’s found by the most unlikely of rescuers: the fearsome Monster of the Darkling Woods and her companion, Merlin, who really wishes she’d stop bringing him broken creatures to fix.”

Art: https://artstelle.tumblr.com/post/750041304120033280/you-are-someone-else-i-am-still-right-here-art

#bbc merlin reverse bang #merlin fests #merlin fanfic #merlin fanart #reverse bang 2024 #masterlist

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