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Baldur’s Gate 3:ActII (x)

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Creatures of BG3 9/?

Mimic

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The little man was getting on his nerves. Sornin's lips pressed into a firm line as he waited for the purpose of this chance meeting. He was too dramatic for his tastes. If he was offering something, then he best make haste before the drow decided to punch him in the throat to shut him up.

Power. Protection. Vengeance.

The words lingered in Sornin's head, although he didn't understand how a man like this could provide him any of those things. He was tiny in comparison, no muscle and all talk. Did he plan on talking Lolth to death for him? Or driving her insane with his riddles?

Even for someone as ignorant as Sornin, though, he could tell that there was something off about this human. Something strange. Perhaps it was the evil nature within the drow that could almost sense the evil in the other.

Finally, Sornin let his hand relax on the hilt of his sword, his expression still stoic. "You know nothing of me," he pointed out sceptically, though his body language no longer as threatening. "Though I am listening. If you can offer me vengeance, bloody and raw."

Raphael's smile only widened, his amusement deepening as Sornin's blunt words reached him. "Dinner, you say?" he chuckled. "I must admit, it's been some time since someone threatened to make a meal out of me."

He stopped his circling, standing just out of reach, though his presence pressed heavily in the air. "But let me clarify something, spider. I am not a man in the way you're used to dealing with." His eyes flicked over the drow, as if measuring him for the first time. "And while you may have killed for less, I assure you... attempting to kill me would prove to be a mistake you'd only get to make once."

Raphael stepped closer, his smile vanishing as his tone grew more serious, more pointed. "I can see you don't have much patience for riddles, so I'll speak plainly. What I want is simple: I want to make a deal. You're running from something, something dark, even by drow standards. I can help you stop running. I can give you power, protection, or vengeance, whatever it is that keeps you awake at night." His gaze locked onto Sornin's mismatched eyes, the gleam of a predator eyeing its prey. "All I ask in return is... a small favor, when the time comes."

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Honour? Sornin wouldn't know anything about that. He was a slave child brought up by the matrons of Lolth, serving as their guard. He had killed without honour many a times, and he cared not for it. True to his evil nature, of course. Killing was just an act of survival now, or convenience. Sometimes, it was purely for pleasure.

A little smile moved across Sornin's lips. He liked the thought of her killing illithid. Drow were not fond of such disgusting and vile creatures, and Sornin especially disliked them. They were not to be trusted. They would consume all the realms if they could.

"Pity?" he asked with a scoff. "If those that wish to cross your blade die, then that is on them. In this world, the strong survive, and the weak perish. As it always has been."

He knew that Alaara was an honourable creature, but he saw little need for something like that, especially when the world around them was going to die if they didn't stop the invasion.

"When we reach this Elderbrain, it will not be honour that slays it. It will be our blades, with fury and precision. We will break the ties that bind us, and I refuse to become a slave once more." After the Elderbrain, he would go after Lolth if he could.

"To know to fight is a tenet of good honor," Alaara replied. "We are not put through rigorous, deadly trials as drow are, but we are given instruction to keep ourselves aware and able to be defensive of ourselves. To do anything less would insult the ancestors that fought so hard for our collective freedom."

"But I did not learn just from that. I learned from experience. Traversing Fareûn can be dangerous at times; there are always pickpockets to watch out for, and people itching for a fight. I have met many brawlers in taverns, and have fought a few..."

And killed a few, unfortunate as that had been.

"I have also been an unwilling adventurer before thanks to Volothamp Geddarm. Yes. That Volo. Because of him, I have killed many before ending up in this place with all of you. Zhentarim have fallen to my blade, a beholder, even an illithid. Now my kill count grows. This fight we are in is for an honorable cause and will bring my clan glory, but at what personal cost? I feel pity for all who we have slain. At least I don't feel guilt."

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Curiosity killed the cat... or perhaps the dog... Maybe that was why Sornin allowed her to finally take a bite of him and taste his blood. It was certainly a strange request, but not something that Sornin hadn't experienced before. The orgies within the temples had been extreme and violent, and passionate and pleasurable. He was not unused to being a toy or a slave to the matriarchs.

Still, when Katya's sharp teeth pierced his soft, underelf skin, he winced and his lips pulled back, showing his teeth. He did not hiss, though, he did not make a noise. Sornin was used to keeping his pain to himself, and he was a rather strong and large drow. He could handle it.

"Is this a tiefling thing? Or a werewolf thing?" he asked, though his voice did not sound curious. He was, Sornin was just very used to keeping his emotions in check, stoic in nature.

"Just so you know, drow expose themselves to toxins and poisons from an early age. I would not drink too much if you wish to live."

"I've never been careful a day in my life and I ain't 'bout to start," she grinned, teeth and all as she stepped closer when he finally said yes to her request. It was an odd request certainly, but she had eventually worn him down.

She grabbed his arm, pushing up his sleeve, inspecting it for a moment before bringing it to her mouth and -

chomp.

Her teeth sank into his flesh, just hard enough to draw blood. She had very rarely taste drow before - and while she wasn't going to eat him ( not yet at least ) she was curious to remember the taste of his blood. To see if it was the same as she remembered.

Maybe it had just been far too long since she had had a proper meal. Camp supplies just wasn't the same as real flesh.

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Random asks || always accepting

// Thank you so much, nonny! <3 I appreciate it! :)

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6, 26, 30

Baldur's Gate 3 Character Development Questions:

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

Honestly, I wouldn't say Sornin gets exceptionally close to many of the companions outside of Halsin. He's extremely guarded, but there's something that he finds in Halsin that is calming and soothing.

Sornin has a tough time opening up to anyone, because it's just not something that Drow are allowed to do. He sees his emotions as weakness, so he has attempted to close them off and out, and be the perfect guard. Of course, it's a farce, he's deeply emotional once he DOES open up to people, and he's actually quite a sad man no thanks to the things he's been through >:

He prefers the company of animals over people, so honestly... Scratch and Herman (owlbear) are probably his closest companions outside of Halsin.

26. What animal best represents your Tav?

Come on... a spider, of course! X'D Outside of a spider, he does have the markings of a corroboree frog, so I could see him being able to wildshape into one of those as well. He likes anything poisonous or venomous.

30: What's your favorite thing about your Tav?

Answered :)

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What's your favorite thing about your Tav?

Baldur's Gate 3 Character Development Questions:

Oof this is such a tough question, lol. I think his bluntness and willing to just fight any enemy with his strength, even if he's totally going to lose X'D I'm very used to writing characters that are usually above average IQ to outright brilliant in their minds, and Sornin is... not that, lol.

Bless his lil socks, but he's actually very blunt and not the sharpest tool in the shed. He just think punching it square in the face will make things go away. I think, for me, it makes it a bit of a challenge, because as a writer, I DO like to delve deeply into my characters, and many of them are, like I said, well above average IQ.

Sornin, I need to double check when I write him, to remember that this is a character that has been deeply indoctrinated and is exceptionally naive to the world around him. It makes him an easy target to be manipulated, especially by the powers of villains within the story (and honestly, Sornin doesn't KNOW any better). While I prefer to write him on the path to redemption, it's easy to see where he could fail this task if in the wrong company, and that's something that I've not written a lot of when it comes to my own personal characters.

So while it's not something I would consider a good characteristic to HAVE, per se, lol, I do think it's one of my favourite things to WRITE about Sornin. How he just thinks anything can be won with a fight, because he's strong.

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Baldur's Gate 3 Character Development Questions:

1: Where in the Faerûn is your Tav from?

2: What is your character's alignment?

3: Race and subclass?

4: If your Tav was a companion, where would they be found?

5: Dark Urge or no?

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

7: Romantically close with?

8: Who are they suspicious of?

9: Is your Tav from Baldur's Gate? Why are they travelling there?

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

11: Weapon of choice?

12: What is their orientation?

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

14: What hobbies does your Tav have?

15: What NPC's do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Faerûn?

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

18: What would your Tav be doing if they weren't kidnapped on the Nautiloid?

19: How do you think they'll meet they're end?

20: Would they destroy the elder brain or control it?

21: What is your Tav's favorite spell?

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

23: What do they do after the absolute crisis?

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

25: What arcana major best represents your Tav?

26: What animal best represents your Tav?

27: What was their life like before the events of BG3?"

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

29: Does your Tav want to utilize the tadpole powers or not?

30: What's your favorite thing about your Tav?

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Those moans sent a little shiver down Sornin's spine, a smile easing its way across his lips. He was proud. Proud that he could get Cassian to be beneath him like this, so feel the tiefling inside him as he continued to rock back and forth.

Flicking his hair over his shoulder, he leant down and pressed his lips to Cassian's, biting his bottom lip in the process. "Good boy," he laughed.

Cassian rolled his hips a little with the other mans movements. Feeling each smack of the other mans cock on his belly and the sweat that was building over his own body. The tiefling found himself unable to hold back the moans that came from his lips. Words of pleasure that slipped from him in infernal. A language he rarely ever used.

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#crimesought : a private & mutually exclusive baldurs gate original character / 'tav' roleplay blog. please check carrd before interacting! loved by Elf (30, they/them)

A study in: Using brute force to solve your problems, using pain to be stronger, annoying childhoods, being animalistic, stealing everything that's not nailed down, the bigger the sword the bigger the problems.

credit. x. x.

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When Karlach went off to fetch the stew, Sornin made sure the little owlbear's foot was okay. When he pressed down on it, he seemed to be happier, but the creature still had an empty belly and would need to be fed.

Large, blinking eyes looked up and the cub took a step back when Karlach came back.

Sornin cast his own spell so he could speak to the animal in hopes that he would realise they meant no harm. They had seen the little beastie during their raid of the goblin camp, so they were familiar faces. Did the little cub follow them because they were familiar scents, or because it could smell their food bubbling away over the fire? Either way, it would likely die on its own now, and Sornin couldn't have that--neither could Karlach by the sounds of it, positively enraptured by the little one.

"Do not be frightened," he said, "it is warm and healthy for you. You will need it to get strong and build strength in your foot."

The little owlbear cub shuffled nervously over to the pot before it dipped its beak in, gobbling up what it could.

Sornin looked to Karlach then, offering her a little smile. "Good job, tiefling. A warm meal and a comfy bed for the night should have him feeling better by the morning. So, you want to take him to bed with you? Someone has to keep an eye on him during the night."

It took everything in her power not to yell about how excited she was! From the camp fire, the ever-watchful hound trotted over, nose to the air and paused behind Sornin. He could smell the poor little cub, and Karlach quickly thought that their little camp would slowly but surely become a home to these wayward animals. One who had lost a master, and another who had lost its mother. Karlach could pretend that it was not them who dealt the killing blow, but from the looks of the owlbear matron, she wouldn't have lasted the day.

The tiefling shifted from one foot to the other, and Scratch watched the little cub cautiously. Another sniff, then another, and the dog sat down and panted his way through his next breaths. What a good boy.

It was then that Sornin hurried her into action and offered a small, playful salute. "On it, soldier." And off she trotted towards the pot. Though it had been hours since the stew had been removed from the heat, it was still slightly warm. She was quick to fish out the bigger, fattier chunks of meat, and one of them was offered to Scratch, who took it gratefully. Didn't seem like a lot. Karlach returned with the whole pot, and took the lid off of it.

"If anyone asks, say I got the munchies and took the rest. Those little eyes of his would've begged the lot anyways, wouldn't they, you adorable little fella!"

The tiefling quickly hunched down and offered the stew. "Go on, bon apple tea or whatever."

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Menzoberranzan — the City of Intrigue, the City of Spiders.

Menzoberranzan was the most spectacular of cities, breathtaking, surreal, and an ignorant visitor— who would not be ignorant, or likely even alive, for long!— would never guess that the artisans of such beauty were among the most malicious of Toril’s races. Legend of Drizzt - Siege of Darkness

[x]

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A good boy

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🍄 🍁 🐌 🐜 🪳✨ // Omphalotus illudens, the bioluminescent jack o' lantern mushroom // gouache on paper

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It was true, Sornin was impatient, but these were moments stolen, and he was still paranoid that someone might whisk Halsin away, or perhaps Halsin would think that this was a mistake, that he did not want to stay there with him anymore. Sex was sex, yes, but... maybe there was something a little bit more that Sornin didn't want to admit just yet.

Halsin was a kind soul, one that had been the kindest to him ever since he had landed on the shore of the coast from the nautaloid crash. The drow was selfish and worried that this moment would disappear too quickly, and so he was trying to grasp it with every second that they had, and keep it all to himself.

The hand to his erection made him breath a soft breath as he looked down at the large elf, and suddenly, with ease, he was up on his knees and sitting above Halsin's shoulders, his cock warm and wet.

"Forgive my impatience," he breathed, "I do not... wish to miss this opportunity." They were the wrong words, but he couldn't say anything else, not just yet. He moaned softly at the sensation of a hot, wet mouth around his length, the piercing at the tip of his cock twirled around Halsin's tongue.

Allowing himself to be drug away from the depths of the water where he fully intended on taking Sornin, but clearly the drow had other plans. The water sloshing around his hips and then his thighs as they exit from the water, Halsin feels himself growing hard as well with pure anticipation, the evidence of it bobbing with each step he takes.

"And I have felt much the same," he answers as they walk to shore, wondering where this night will take them and just how many times they would perform the act. Halsin's love making was untamed and vigorous, often times not satiated until he's gone a few rounds.

Feeling himself pushed to the ground, it seems the drow was impatient for what was to come. Letting himself be straddled, one of Halsin's hands comes to rest at Sornin's hip, while the other grasps hold of his straining erection, stroking the drow in slow, languid movements.

"No need to rush, we've got all evening," he drawls the words, a smile upon his lips before he suddenly hefts Sornin up from where he sits, straddling the drow upon his shoulders now. "I wish to taste you," he all but growls the words, the only warning that was given before he does just that.

Lips enclose around Sornin's cock, tongue swirling along the tip as he moans lewdly around him.

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Unfortunately for the rest of the party, Sornin was not overly familiar with the plants on the surface. Most of what he had worked with were those that were native to the Underdark, and many of them, they couldn't touch because of the poison. His exposure from a young age meant that he could handle them without falling ill, but the rest of the party would not do as well.

Thankfully, it appeared Alaaras' camp had a few druids or healers that could help them if need be. Sornin could still mix up useful poisons for battle, though. He could also help with some of their weapons, making sure they were coated with something deadly so their foes wouldn't escape if struck.

"If you have been a bard most of your life, then how did you learn to fight?" he asked her. Surely she had had her struggles. She wasn't useless in a fight, after all.

"What do dragonborn childhoods entail? The drow are taught you fight from the moment they can hold a weapon. Trials to prove that we can survive, and those that cannot, are killed immediately." They were useless if they could not survive in a fight.

"Botany." Alaara nodded. "A worthy use of time. Perhaps if we find enough ingredients in the wild, such skill could be put to use once again. We could use poultices as much as poisons... as much as I detest needing the latter."

A good poison ended a battle faster; it was debatable if the opponent's suffering was less because they died quicker. More to the point, whatever advantage they could have at their disposal was a good one. Faerûn could not be saved without playing a bit dirty.

But talking about poisons and making them could come later. Alaara went quiet and listened to the sound of sword and stone against one another. And when prompted, she answered.

"Barding is the majority of my life," she admitted. "Singing, playing instruments, writing songs... But if I am not doing those things, I read. I read all sorts of things. Novels with romance in them have always been of intrigue and not just the trashy ones Astarion keeps finding to read by the campfire for everyone's amusement."

"I have attempted other art forms like drawing. I have never improved. I also cannot help but poke my big nose into anything and everything; I have spent countless hours discovering hidden treasures in Waterdeep of all sorts. Most of my time spent hasn't led me to trouble and has been a delight."