#the forgotten realms

[likoko1120]

These were the friends who gave me my life...

(Well, today is the first day I signed up for Turmbr! Nice to meet u)

[tiny-huts]

[absolxguardian]

[Elminster and Khelben Arunsen] proved to be worthy and capable receptacles of her power, but Mystra's other early attempts to invest her power in living humans were unsuccessful, and she came to realize that only a very few mortals were of stern enough substance to contain such power within themselves without being destroyed or corrupted. Even though some people aside from Elminister and Khelben may have possessed the requisite strength, it is possible that having lived for years prior to being visited by Mystra had set them on a path from which they were not able to deviate. Whatever the reason, the problem needed to be solved. To get around the difficulty, Mystra devised a plan to use herself as a vessel to breed individuals who could be nurtured and acclimated to her power from the very beginnings of their lives. For the father of these individuals, she picked the best example of human stock she could find: Dornar Silverhand, a nobleman and a former Harper who lived near Neverwinter. Mystra then possessed the body of Elue Shandur, a helf-elven sorceress whom Dornal was already attracted to. Mystra revealed her presence and her plan to Eleu, who happily and eagerly agreed to have the goddess share her body. Eleu had been reluctant, but under the influence of Mystra the woman became a seductress, and Dornal found his advances being suddenly returned with great fervor. Dornal and Mystra/Eleu were wed in the Year of the Drifting Stars (760 DR). The first of the seven daughters, Anastra Syluné, was born the following winter. Sylune's six sisters emerged at one-year interval thereafter: Endue Alustriel, Ambara Dove, Ethena Astorma (she prefers the name "Storm" these days), Anamanué Laeral, Alassa Shentrantra (known today as the Simbul) and Erésseae Qilué. These siblings have become known in Realmsian lore as the Seven Sisters. Dornal, who had been kept in the dark about his wife's true nature through the years (presumably because Mystra didn't want to risk losing his services), was disappointed and distraught by the time his sixth child was born; he had always wanted sons as well as daughters. More importantly, he was seeing his wife deteriorate right before his eyes. The strain of coexisting with the goddess all these years had turned Eleu into a withered shell - in essence a lich, clinging to life only because Mystra's power was within her. When Eleu was carrying the seventh child, Dornal consulted a priest who told him his wife had been possessed by a entity of great magical power. To spare both of them any further agony, he attempted to slay his wife's physical form by severing her head from her body. As soon he had done this, Mystra was forced to reveal herself to him, and she went on to explain her scheme. Just as she had worried would happen, Dornal was aghast at how he and his wife had been used by the goddess. He turned his back on the corpse of his wife, abandoned his lands and his children, and vanished into the North. Mystra bore him no ill will, and in fact protected him for the final 30 years of his life. When Dornal finally did meet his end he called out to Mystra, and the goddess granted his continued existence as her servant. Now known as the Watcher, Dornal Silverhand travels the world unseen by mortals on a continuing mission to locate candidates to swell the ranks of the Chosen and to identify possible threats to Mystra and her minions.

-History of the Chosen of Mystra (Baldur's Gate 1)

Hey Mystra what the fuck. This also creates an interesting paralel to Bhaal, who also foresaw his death during the Time of Troubles and thus went and had mortal children. (This is a different Mystra from Gale's Mystra, but they're all reincarnations of the preceding goddesses)

[bramblepatch]

A homebrew background for drow characters recently arrived on the surface, inspired in part by certain events in Lolth's Warrior ;)

You can find it on the Homebrewery here.

[fallen-chances]

Oh my god I was looking at the Forgotten Realms universe timeline and realized that because Astarion is over 200 years old, he's old enough to have experienced Bhaal, Myrkul, and Bane's ascension into godhood and the two previous Baldurs Gate games, along with the Spellplague when Shar tried to get a god of murder to kill Mystra.

Then a hundred years pass and bam, Second Sundering. With how the game talks about the Second Sundering and the restoration of all the gods that had died or conglomerated together, it makes you feel like it was awhile ago-- but it was only twelve years previous!

[deletarius1893]

(W.I.P)

Working on another Tarot Card inspired piece for Solus (Tav) & Lae’zel. It'll be a while for this one since I've other projects I'm trying to wrap up. But here's a sneak peek.

[scrollsaplenty]

Developing Feelings in the Underdark

Here's another little one-shot of my OC - Mara - and Astarion's developing relationship.

No trigger warnings.

Enjoy!

_______

Mara smiled and playfully nudged the pale elf, “Come on. Let’s get back to camp before the others wake up and come looking for us. If you behave yourself, I may even allow you to drink from me.” 

“Excuse me,” Astarion scoffed as he rose to his feet and extended a hand to Mara, “I am always a perfect gentleman. Come on let’s go. I need to feed and I don’t want an audience.” 

The Underdark was freezing. 

Even wrapped in a thick wool cloak and sitting beside the fire, Mara could not drive the numbing cold from her body. Desperately, Mara rubbed her hands together and blew against her frozen fingertips as a chill ran down her spine. Mara missed the comfort and familiarity of their old camp. The gentle sound of the river crashing against the sandy shores, the warm spring breeze that tousled her hair at night, and staring into the stars to fall asleep. 

Of course, the Underdark was beautiful in its own right. But it was a dark dangerous beauty. Everything was a beautiful threat; from the bright pastel bioluminescent mushrooms to the natives. It was hard to relax in a place that would devour you the moment you let your guard down. 

But the worst part was the chill that ran through the Underdark. It was worse at night when the party attempted to relax. 

“Shitty excuse for a sorcerer,” Mara muttered as she conjured a small fireball and held it in her hands, “Can’t even think of a single warming spell.” 

The small fireball radiated enough heat to thaw Mara’s frozen fingers. She let out a satisfied sigh and smiled. Mara tilted her head back resting against the thick mushroom stem she was sitting against. The stem was rubbery and covered with a thin layer of lilac velvet fibers that felt similar to the tapestries lining the walls of her bedroom in the Upper City.

The rest of the party slept a few feet away from Mara. Shadowheart dragged her bedroll closer to Karlach to absorb some of the Tiefling’s heat. Shadowheart wrapped herself in a heavy blanket and didn’t bother to change out of her armor for the added warmth. Karlach’s infernal engine glowed a dull red and raided enough heat to keep her comfortable. Karlach slept in her camp clothes on top of her bedroll, blissfully ignorant of the bone-chilling cold the rest fo the party experienced. Mara imagined the cold air felt amazing for Karlach. 

Her eyes fluttered to Astarion’s empty bedroll. After Karlach and Shadowheart were fast asleep, Astarion said he was going hunting and left. That was a little over two hours ago and though she would never admit it, Mara was growing worried. Mara knew Astarion was more than capable of taking care of himself, but this was the Underdark. 

Memories of the Gur monster hunter tugged on Mara’s mind. She nervously chewed on her lower lip as the memory replayed in her mind. Cazador’s influence extended to a putrid bog in the middle of nowhere. If that monster could send one lone monster hunter after Astarion, what would stop Cazador from sending more? 

Panic began bubbling in Mara’s stomach as her imagination ran wild. Mara dismissed the fireball and scrambled to her feet. She grabbed her daggers and quietly crept out of camp in the direction Astarion disappeared hours ago. 

Mara found a pair of light footprints in the mud and followed the trail to the water's edge. After a few moments of searching, Mara found Astarion perched on a rock overlooking the dark purple waters of the underground lake. Astarion seemed to be lost in thought as he twirled one of his twin daggers in his hand.

But he appeared to be unharmed. 

Mara let out a sigh of relief. Mara’s shoulders dropped and her heart stopped beating against her chest as she quietly approached the rock. 

“You should be back at camp keeping watch,” Astarion sneered as Mara sat beside him. 

“You were taking too long,” Mara muttered as she pulled her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. 

A comfortable silence fell between the pair as they watched dull lights flicker off the lake’s quiet surface. The Arcane Tower loomed over the lake in the far distance as did the skeleton of the long-forgotten village. Fire beetles flew along the water’s surface before landing on massive branches of Barrelstalk protruding from the water. The distant hum of the Circle’s song echoed in the peaceful darkness. It was beautiful. 

In moments of silence like this, Mara was reminded of how deeply she used to long for freedom like this. Just weeks earlier, Mara was trapped in her father’s manor, watched like a prisoner by his guards and the Guild, and she was desperate for freedom. All she had for company were books and Kethan.

Now she was free. Parasite aside, this was the happiest point in her life. Mara was certain she could die this very moment a happy woman because she experienced more life in the past few weeks than she ever had in twenty-five years. Mara had friends, she took a lover, she broke free of one of her shackles, and embraced the magic she spent years fearing. 

Living - truly living - was intoxicating and Mara wanted more. 

Mara wanted to walk the same streets in Neverwinter that her mother once walked. She wanted to feel passion, she wanted to command the magic inside her to reign fire upon their enemies, she wanted to dance carefree with her friends once more, and she wanted to fall in love. 

Mara could be satisfied with the sliver of life she experience these past few weeks, but she desperately wanted more. 

Astarion noticed Mara far off in thought. A small crease formed between her dark brows as her golden-speckled blue eyes gazed across the water's surface. He also noticed Mara shivering. 

“Go back to camp and sit by the fire. I can hear your teeth chattering,” Astarion flicked a small pebble into the water. 

Mara shook her head and pulled her cloak tighter around herself, “The others are fine. I just want to sit here for a moment and think.” 

Once again silence fell between the pair. Astarion watched Mara out of the corner of his eye. Mara was losing hold of the woman she once was; the scared noble who was terrified by her own magic was slipping away. Astarion could see the confidence building inside Mara, and a part of him envied the young-half elf. 

She was breaking free from her chains, and as happy as Astarion was it terrified him. A more confident Mara meant she may not turn to him as much, wouldn’t confide in him as much, and he would lose his sway over him. 

It meant Mara may not need him. 

The building feelings Astarion still refused to acknowledge bubbled in the pit of his stomach. He hated himself for being worried that Mara would abandon him. Astarion replayed how fiercely she defended him to the others after he bit her in his mind. 

Astarion couldn’t let her abandon him - he needed Mara. 

“Perhaps I was too quick to turn away your company,” Astarion smoothed his voice and silently stepped into his familiar seductive character. He turned towards Mara and frowns at her shivering. He shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over Mara’s small frame. 

“There,” he says as he engulfs her smaller form in the cloak, “I can’t have my favorite little sorceress freezing, can I?” 

A soft gentle smile appeared on Mara’s face, “Won’t you be cold without your cloak?” 

Astarion shook his head as he moved to sit closer beside Mara, “No, the cold doesn’t affect me the way it affects others. You see, it’s one of the many benefits of my,” he paused for a moment to consider his choice of words, “condition.” 

Mara’s smile slipped from her face as her fingers gripped the heavy cloak tighter. She nervously chewed her lower lip before mustering to the courage to speak, “Thank you, Astarion.” 

Astarion loathed how he melted at the sound of his name on Mara’s lips. He despised himself for the dull ache in the pit of his stomach. The selfish part of him hated that Mara dug her way into his thoughts, into his feelings. 

“Consider it payment for the times you allowed me to dine on that delicious neck of yours,” Astarion replied as he flashed her a seductive smile. 

“You owe me nothing for that,” Mara’s voice was soft and sciencere, “You needed it, so I helped you.” 

Astarion hated how helpful Mara insisted on being. Whether it was a thieving child or a captured gnome, Mara extended her kindness to whoever needed it. She did it without expecting anything in return. She did it all while fearing they would think her a monster if they saw the magic inside her. 

“Stop being so nice. The hasn’t been kind to you. Why do you insist on showing everyone kindness when you receive little in return?” Astarion grumbled as a gentle breeze rushed through the pair. The wind carried her scent and it was like a drug for Astarion. 

Mara sat silently for a moment pondering his question. She hated how right Astarion was; the world offered Mara very little in terms of kindness. She never knew the love of a parent, was lied to and manipulated her whole life, and kept as a prisoner in her own home. The first time she successfully breaks free of Ilidan’s clutches sent  her right into the waiting arms of Mind Flayers, and now she was on a hunt to remove a parasite that would surly kill her. Mara had no rease to show the world any kindness, yet it was the obvious choice at every turn. 

Mara was determined not to posin herself against the world and show the world every ounce of kindness it denied her. 

“You’re right, I have no reason to show strangers the kindness I do. But it makes me happy,” Mara twirled her mothers ring around her finger, “I can’t become the monster my father made me believe I was. If I let my anger and resentment consumer me, then he wins.” 

Astarion heard the determination in her voice and chose not to push Mara on the subject. Instead, he filled his mind with images of the gloriously evil ways he would destroy Ilidan the moment he set eyes on the elf. 

“Well then,” Astarion sighed as he leaned back, “Then I guess I’ll have to stick around to keep the world from devouring you. I can’t have my favorite midnight snack being taken advantage of.” 

Mara smiled and playfully nudged the pale elf, “Come on. Let’s get back to camp before the others wake up and come looking for us. If you behave yourself, I may even allow you to drink from me.” 

“Excuse me,” Astarion scoffed as he rose to his feet and extended a hand to Mara, “I am always a perfect gentleman. Come on let’s go. I need to feed and I don’t want an audience.” 

Mara allowed Astarion to pull her to her feet and the pair began walking back to camp.

Both attempted to ignore their building feelings for each other. 

[moonshadovv]

Some recent DND character art goodies. My cleric of Shar that's masquerading as a Selûnite, and my God of Death and Crossroads for a deity focused campaign that's being planned :)

[id in alt, rb to support artists!]

[enthusiastofshit]

[raiderbirdy]

Commission: Lady Philomena, an Astral Elf Light Domain Cleric of Angharradh

[pineboots]

if shar is so evil then why is she hot. answer me this, wizards of the coast

[wisefyre]

Added Jarlaxle! Just one more to go on this page!

Zaknafein or Drizzt next?

[tiny-huts]

I think whenever people act like Drizzt is some always cool edgelord I have to laugh because one of the first things he does on the surface is go ":D hello long black and white cat! You are so cut-AHHHGGGGHHHH"

[adurna0]

Ah yes, I love drow cities like Ust Natha, Ched Nassad, Eryndlyn and

checks writing on hand

Menopause

[fatale-distraction]

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A post shared by Jackie Moore (@fatale_distraction)

Also check out my latest crochet project: an owlbear cub teddy! Pattern by complicatedknots on instagram.

[lclthlcved]

Chibi lolth as per stream request