#☼*・ﾟ Verse — ↳ baldur’s gate 3

[feuerwizard]

starter for @sanguisarcana | caleb & astarion

Despite the simmering frustration brewing within Caleb towards his fellow companions on this particular evening, he still found it in himself to agree to conjure the tower for those who desired it. In truth, it may have been more for his own sake than anyone else's, as he preferred the spaciousness and privacy of his tower over the cramped and dingy campgrounds or a small, spare room in a tavern in Baldur's Gate.

The wizard’s usually level-headed demeanor replaced by a recent air of stress, his mind consumed by the ticking time clock represented by the tadpoles in their heads. And to add to the pressure, he was once again faced with seeing Astrid and Eadwulf again. And as time progressed, Caleb's frustration reached a boiling point as most of their group dismissed the idea of taking on Cazador as a priority.

He craved solitude, just a few blessed hours to collect his thoughts and regain some semblance of sanity. The weight of recent events was bearing down on him, threatening to crush his already fragile mental state. After a while, with his head properly back upon his shoulders, it was time to pay a visit to the one person with more of a right to be frustrated than him—Astarion.

A quick stride brought him down the hall to Astarion's room, its dark wooden door only a few steps away. He paused for a moment before knocking softly, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he waited for a response.

[feuerwizard]

for @windwithinmyveins || cont.

Caleb watched Ceres carefully, his expression unreadable as she spoke. He knew there was more to her than met the eye, more depths hidden beneath a charismatic facade. It had been over a decade since Caleb had last attended any sort of party, and the influx of strangers into their campsite made him feel a bit uneasy. He could sense the buzzing chatter and laughter of the crowd, the clinking of glasses and the wafting aroma of alcohol. Despite his discomfort, he couldn't resist indulging in a few glasses of shitty wine to ease the tension in the air. As the crackling of the fire filled the brief silence between them, Caleb's tone shifted, carrying a note of conviction. “Nein, it’s okay. I want the tadpoles gone as much as you do.”

The human man despised the tadpole, a small but persistent creature that kept him tethered to the group whether he wanted it or not. The thought of his mind being an open book to his fellow members filled him with discomfort and set him on edge. The others were always quick to point out his sour mood, as if they relished in poking at his defenses. Perhaps they were all burdened by the weight of their circumstances, haunted by secrets and uncertainties that threatened to consume them whole. He took a swig from his wine, the liquid burning down his throat.

His mind shifted back to the book, the reason he had initiated this conversation in the first place. He couldn't shake off the dangerous aura that surrounded it, but Caleb was unable to suppress the overwhelming envy he felt towards Ceres’ possession of such potentially powerful arcane knowledge. But Ceres was kind, kinder than the most of the assholes at this camp. For now, Caleb pushed his curiosity aside to show some semblance of decency in return. “You’re doing a good job, being the face of this. I don’t think we would have made it this far without you.”

[feuerwizard]

@wildskissed asked: "i trust your heart. it’s in a good place." // critical role sentence starters;; open

Gale gazes up at her with warm brown eyes, meeting her soft purple gaze. He lets out a heavy sigh, the weight of his emotions evident in the way his shoulders slump and his chest rises and falls heavily. “Is it?” The wizard would like to believe his intentions are pure and that he always acts with good reason, but the conversation they had on that boat ride through the heavens last night gives him a moment of hesitation… hesitation in himself. “I want so badly to be the man you think I am. Not some… jumped up wizard drunk on the promises of power or godhood.”

He falls silent for a moment, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he takes Eve's hands into his own. With a gentle grip, he intertwines their fingers, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin against his. “I am sorry,” he says finally, their hands remain clasped together, “I promise I will do what needs to be done, and return the Crown to Mystra when this is finished. So long as we survive it, of course.”

[feuerwizard]

@infernaliscor asked: "for the first time in a really long time, i feel hopeful." // critical role sentence starters;; open

Karlach's words tumble from her lips and hang in the air like a weighty promise. He stands there in silence, his thoughts swirling with the careful warning Dammon had given them about her engine. It hums and purrs beneath her skin, a hidden force with fiery power and potential danger. This is a temporary fix. Temporary. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, unsure of how to respond. If only he could get his hands on Dammon’s research, perhaps he could find a way to understand the mechanism inside her however unlikely—this wizard is no expert in engineering and an arcane solution has yet to present itself.

Frumpkin, currently in the form of a tiny owl rather than his usual cat form, perches delicately on the tiefling's shoulder. His sharp talons gently grip the fabric of her clothing as he looks around with bright eyes. With each step, there is a soft pitter-patter of clawed feet against her shoulder, like a comforting massage. “Does it feel better? Your engine?” Caleb asks, blue eyes shifting from Frumpkin to Karlach’s.

[feuerwizard]

@rubistella asked: "[ blanket ] sender draping a blanket over receiver's shoulders & "Just let me take care of you for a bit." // caring prompts;; open

The wizard swayed unsteadily in his seat, auburn hair falling into unfocused blue eyes as he reached for the tankard in front of him. He took another deep swig of the honeyed ale, savoring the sweet warmth spreading through his chest.

Lost in a haze of drink and magical theorems, Caleb did not notice the lithe figure approach until he felt the gentle weight of a blanket being draped over his shoulders. Long, elegant fingers brushed against his neck, their touch cool and soothing.

Caleb instinctively leaned into the contact, his head lolling back to rest against the vampire's shoulder. "Mmm, danke," he murmured, the words slightly slurred. "I was just reading the most fascinating passage on transmutation… did you know that with the right arcane equations, you can alter the very essence of matter itself?"

He reached for the hefty tome sitting on the bar, flipping it open to a random page filled with complex glyphs and flowing script. Fingers traced reverently over the lines of ink as he continued to ramble excitedly.

[feuerwizard]

starter for @oathwilled

Caleb is exhausted.

Bruised and battered and achingly tired. Not that his companions are faring any better than him, considering the circumstances. These cursed lands are unbearably bleak for all of them, even Caleb. This day in particular has been a blur of encounters with Absolute Cultists or shadow creatures, one after the other. This small band remaining would have been an easy match, if not for the fact that he and Paerin are scouting alone and already drained from previous battles.

Fighting continues and continues and continues—they are both ready to end this. The wizard’s hands tremble as he reaches for his component pouch, fingers fumbling for a pinch of bat guano and sulfur. Standing behind the paladin, lips moving, mumbling the incantation as he focuses the remaining energy he has left. A bead of sweat trickles down his brow, mingling with the grime and dirt that cakes his skin. Air crackling with arcane energy as the fireball takes shape, a searing orb of flames that illuminates and hurls towards the last of the cultists.

The fireball explodes in a blinding flash, engulfing the enemy in a maelstrom of fire and smoke. Their enemies scream as the flames consume them, clothing igniting and flesh blistering in the intense heat. But as the smoke clears and the charred bodies of cultists lie smoldering on the ground, Caleb's mind is assaulted by a flood of memories. The acrid scent of burning flesh, the agonized screams, the searing heat—it all comes rushing back, a vivid and horrifying reminder. Panic seeps in and Caleb's knees buckle as he collapses to the ground.

[feuerwizard]

@windwithinmyveins asked: "19: sender sits in receivers lap" // 100 nonverbal prompts;; open

The sun had set over Baldur's Gate, casting a warm orange glow across the city. Caleb, exhausted from a day full of tasks and adventure, longed for nothing more than to retire to a cozy seat with a good book. The familiar weight of his spellbook hung on his hip as he made his way through the bustling streets toward their camp. Despite his weariness, the wizard luckily had enough energy left to conjure his tower for his companions this evening.

Once the tower was cast and the rest of his companions retired to their respective rooms (or elsewhere,) the human made himself comfortable upon the plush couch in the salon. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the book he had selected and began flipping through its delicate pages. Frumpkin, curled up by his side, occasionally nudging his hand for attention. As he lost himself in the words on the page, he suddenly felt a gentle weight in his lap, and looked up to find Ceres smiling at him.

A deep blush crept up his cheeks, causing them to glow a bright shade of crimson. He hastily set the book aside, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to regain his composure. With a small cough, he broke the awkward silence that had settled between them. “Hallo… have you come to read with me?”

[feuerwizard]

@fortune-feather asked: "Look, I'm okay! I've pulled all nighters before." // lack of sleep starters;; open

“Ja, I am not sure that is quite as reassuring as you think it is.” Caleb let out a deep, weary sigh as he rummaged through the pages of the book. The weight of exhaustion pulled at his eyelids, but he persevered, driven by his insatiable thirst for knowledge. Despite the constant dangers they faced on a daily basis, he could not resist delving into the treasure trove of books they had brought back to their campsite. He knew it was a risky move, pushing themselves to stay awake for another all-nighter, but the allure of new information and stories was too great for him to resist.

As he turned each page, he could feel his mind beaming with excitement and his thoughts racing with new ideas. The faint light from the lantern flickered across the pages, casting intricate shadows that seemed to dance and come alive in the dim campsite. “When have you stayed up all night before?”

[feuerwizard]

@oathwilled asked: "brave. dead. it’s semantics, really." // critical role starters;; closed (carried over from my previous blog)

Bright  blue  orbs  flicker  up  from  the  depths  of  a  battered  bag,  scouring  for  any  useful  items  amidst  the  wreckage  they’ve  wrought—the  remnants  of  chaotic  and  rather  close  battle,  not  typically  Caleb’s  preferred  method  of  conflict.  He  has  never  been  the  brave  type.  “Ja?  For  once  I  agree  with  you.”

If  they  continue  to  run  headfirst  into  any  dangerous  situation,  they  may  not  be  quite  so  lucky  next  time  in  managing  to  fight  their  way  out.  Caleb  is  becoming  increasingly  concerned  they  have  somehow fallen  in  with  a  pack  of  complete  lunatics  incapable  of  keeping  a  low  profile.  “Exercising  a  little  bit  of  caution  goes  a  long  way.  I’m  sure  you  know.”

[feuerwizard]

@championsofthegate asked: "you have the perfect lips for kissing (from vax.)" // praise kink phrases;; open

Ginger eyebrows rose in a futile attempt to convey disapproval, but the faint flush of his cheeks—rosy pink—betrayed the undeniable pull he felt towards the handsome rogue. Despite his best efforts to maintain a stoic expression, the subtle color on his face gave away far too much. Vax'ildan exuded a charm and charisma that was hard to ignore, even for Caleb who made a conscious effort to do so. “Ach?” He hummed, “Have you used that one before?”

[feuerwizard]

@sanguisarcana asked: "It didn't take an expert to pinpoint the wizard's attraction, which Astarion happened to address before a particularly nasty argument unfolded. One that led to him shoving Caleb against the wall, an arm pinned to the wizard's chest and a very intense exchange. Fangs bared, clashing stares, mingled breaths. A moment of breathlessness followed. Only as the silence grew weary and a strange awkwardness began to fester like rust was when the two finally broke apart. "Gods." Astarion snorted. "Sometimes I dont know if you want to strangle me, or kiss me, honestly." // unprompted;; always open

It is still entirely up for debate, the wizard thought to himself, cheat heaved as he sharply shoved Astarion away from him. “Do not flatter yourself,” Caleb muttered, running a hand through tousled ginger hair. Freckled cheeks lightly dusted with a soft shade of pink that spread down his neck, despite his attempt to appear nonchalant. “And don’t threaten me again. This is supposed to be a team effort now, ja?”

Just when the two seemed to find some semblance of harmony between them, a discordant note would be struck and the tension between them would rise once more. Their interactions an intricate web of push-and-pull, with each step forward met by a step back. Like two opposing forces circling each other endlessly. Whether it was for better or for worse, he had somehow developed a deep sense of care for his vampiric companion. Someone who knew more about him than Caleb would have liked at this point. But Caleb was a big team player these days, apparently.

[feuerwizard]

starter for @slaycults

The wizard stood over the smoldering corpse of the last gnoll, the flames licking at its matted fur and charred flesh. The stench of burning hair and skin assaulted his nostrils, making his stomach churn. His companions were still catching their breath, cleaning their weapons, and checking each other for injuries after the fierce skirmish. But Caleb was transfixed by the crackling flames consuming the dead gnoll, his eyes wide and glassy.

The firelight danced in his vision, conjuring unwanted memories from his troubled past. But he could not tear his gaze away from the burning gnoll, the phantom screams still ringing in his ears. His breath came in ragged gasps and a cold sweat coated his ashen face despite the heat of the flames. His fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically at his sides.

[feuerwizard]

starter for @myristicisms | playing lanceboard

The Shadow Cursed lands are a peculiar and foreboding place, unlike anything Caleb had ever seen before. Dingy air thick with a palpable sense of danger, the shadows seemingly alive and ready to swallow them whole. Each step towards Last Light Inn felt uncertain as if the very ground beneath their feet could turn against them at any moment. Despite the constant threat looming over them, Caleb could not help but be fascinated by the strange landscape around him. Every corner with secrets and mysteries that begged to be uncovered. But survival took the forefront of his mind, just as it always had. He could not study anything is was dead.

Luckily Last Light Inn is a temporary haven (after they fought off Marcus) and even the dirt-covered human wizard has to admit shelter is a relief. He remains reserved, opting for a quick round of ale from the bar downstairs instead of mingling with his eccentric companions. However, one thing manages to grab his attention—Miriam sitting alone at the lanceboard table. Caleb cannot help but feel drawn to the empty seat beside her, taunting him to join in on the game. Despite his usual solitary nature, he finds it nearly impossible to resist a game of strategy.

“Hallo,” he greets the woman as he walks towards her, his accented voice slightly muffled by the half-finished mug of ale in his hand. “I don’t suppose you are looking for another player?”

[feuerwizard]

@patchworkcowboy | cont.

The wizard let out a low, pained groan as he brought his hand up to the spot where the heavy book had made contact with his head. He could already feel a throbbing ache forming and cursed himself for not watching where he was walking. "Ja, I think so," he mumbled, his accent thickening as it often did when he was flustered or embarrassed. "Sorry about that. I suppose I got a bit too ambitious with my reading list this week. If it is even possible to do such a thing."

As he extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and books, he made sure not to bump his companion. Once he sat up, he noticed a few loose pages from one of the worn volumes. He delicately attempted to reinsert them into their proper place, frowning in concern for the damaged book. “My apologies again.”

[feuerwizard]

@sunderdust asked: "❛ wink. wink at my muse." // loud and defending silence prompts;; open

A battlefield reveals a lot about a person, and in Caleb's situation, his attention is now fully honed in on Solomon’s abilities. This motley crew of lunatics, thrown together by chance and circumstance, barely know each other. Caleb loathes the forced intimacy, unable to shake off the feeling of discomfort and unfamiliarity with his companions. But Solomon, ach, Caleb would recognize that type of spell casting anywhere.

The agile human deftly finishes off the large creature with a well-timed Chromatic Orb, casting it with practiced precision only a wizard could muster. A confident wink accompanies their victory, and Caleb tilts his head in interest. “Danke,” he thanks him for finishing the fight, “I had no idea you were… studied in the arcane arts?”

[feuerwizard]

@blinkdog asked: "you think i could do something like that?" // unprompted;; always open

As the final sparks of magic dissipate from his fingertips, Caleb lets his hands drop to his sides. The lingering tingles send a shiver through his body as he turns to face his companion, who stands behind him. He can hear the questions in his voice as they ask, you think I could do something like that? The wizard tilts his head curiously, studying the expression upon his face. “Ja, probably,” he shrugs to himself. “Does magic interest you?”