#'it's not a fireball it's a tressym'

[galedekarios]

tim drawing tara [source] 😾🧙‍♂️

bonus:

[ahjiing]

Fireball! 🔥

[oops-all-concrete]

OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK

I'm at that point in act 3 where you help the guy find the missing letters from Tara, and-

IF YOU GRAB THE LETTER BEFORE TALKING TO HER,

SHE JUST-

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

She said "I didn't ask how big the roof is, I said; I cast F I R E B A L L"

Truly, the tressym of a wizard...or, more appropriate, the wizard of a tressym. She taught him how to lose his eyebrows REAL QUICK (Ty to the lovely who pointed out EXACTLY who raised who)

[trashcatsnark]

what if instead of being found on a temple roof, Tara came to camp after having found where Gale is and trotted into his tent to wake him up in the middle of the night because she's a cat tressym and they be like that- sees him and Tav snuggled together in their sleep and Gale gets woken up to the most scandalized

mR. DEKARIOS!!!????

[wizardsimper]

Tara finding out Mystra wants Gale to blow himself up

It's on sight, Mystra

[uldren-sov]

If there was any question that Tara was pretty much Gale's mom, I have now found undeniable proof that she is.

Not only does she love him dearly and helped save his life...

But she confirmed has chancletas too

[loviatarsluv-old]

just a wizard and his cat- er, tressym… friend.

[artilaz]

Seeing some absolutely lovely fanart with an aged version of Gale in it earlier made me want to try to make a model for an older Tristan as well, and since I still only have FFXIV at my disposal, that's what I rolled with, as usual. Honestly, I absolutely love the result! I originally wanted to give him a bit less saturated hair, but it ended up making him look pale as a ghost, so I guess he gets to remain blond for another couple decades. He is getting some white strands though, they just don't seem to stand out very well.

I've mentioned it in other posts before, but I'll gladly do so again: Once he and Gale settle down in Waterdeep, he'll become a shipwright at the Waterdhavian docks, and I can absolutely see him doing that job until his body can't bear it anymore. And since shipwrighting is a branch of carpentry, I also gave him some clothes that can only be worn by carpenters in FFXIV. I think he looks amazing in the outfit, and now I can't wait for him and Gale to grow old together 💙💜

Not pictured in these images: Tara seething in the background over both of them having beards now 😂

[mageofgoobygrove]

Look After You (Baldur’s Gate 3)

A little something while I await for requests. Hope you enjoy! (8/2: i’m a dumbass, today was so unnecessarily hectic that i almost forgot to post. forgive me 🙈)

Gale Dekarios/Tav

(Featuring — Tara)

"Surely he should be here by now, Mrs. Dekarios?"

Gale almost sighed in deep relief when he heard Tara's voice. He stood outside of his tower just about to murmur the right words to unlock the front door. Because it was locked by magic rather than a mechanism, it took you some time to learn how it functioned. Magic wasn't your specialty, just as his wasn't swinging a blade.

Although this was an uncommon ground, it was days such as these that made him appreciate it. Coming home from teaching wild, ruthless prodigies was more than enough magic for one day.

The lock clicked once Gale commanded it. When he pushed the door open, he was met with his Tressym ready to greet him.

"Mr. Dekarios!" Tara said with surprise, more than was necessary. Before Gale could speak, she began making her rounds between his legs. She sniffed at his scorched pants and took note of the dark footprints on the matt below before stepping back.

Gale knew better than to try and move.

"What a state to return in! Who did this to you?"

"Tara, please," Gale begged in a whisper. "I will explain everything if you'd so kindly help me get to the bedroom."

"You reek of smoke, Mr. Dekarios." Tara explained flatly, "there is no sneaking around the tower."

"Tara—“

Tara interrupted with a loud shout. "Mrs. Dekarios!"

Gale had exactly six seconds before you'd see his singed appearance. Each second went by too quickly for his liking as he considered every option he had. First, there was the thought of an illusion spell. A quick wave of his hands (as you tended to describe it) and the magic word would save him from embarrassment. If you were easy to trick. Second came the grand idea to dash off and find a cover.

"You cannot hide this, Mr. Dekarios. And do not dare move, you will stain the floor."

"Well," Gale weakly shot back, "worse has happened in this tower."

At that moment, you rounded the corner and went in for a hug. Your smile quickly disappeared when you caught sight of the black, powdery substance all over Gale. Before you could touch him, you reeled back. Gale smiled as you took in his messy state.

"Am I glad to see you."

Gale hardly moved as you reached up and rubbed the powder from around his eyes. It hardly budged, but you were far more stubborn. He hummed with content at the small gesture.

"I can hardly see you, dearest," you laughed as his skin began to show. In a more softer tone, you asked, "I assume class went as planned?"

“The first hour? Oh, it was magnificent.” Gale explained as you reached down to Tara. She had left and returned with a damp cloth between her canines. It made progress much easier has you gently wiped his face.

“We delved deeper into the arcane, between electric cities and heatwaves. One asked me to demonstrate a fireball, which I rejected the idea immediately. Safety first, I said, when it could be practiced. Unleashing a fireball in a room full of young students is undoubtedly a quick path to losing my job.”

You hummed for him to continue. Tara instructed for him to undress before setting off to find something to cover him with. You took a step back as he started with his boots and worked his way up.

“So,” Gale waited for Tara to be out of earshot. If she heard, she would be attending class the next day with him. She would surely lecture his students about their actions until the end of time. And even after. “A little Clem Amakiir decided to present for me. At me.”

Your focus was wavered. While defiance at Blackstaff wasn’t new, a student attacking your husband was.

“Surely it was an accident.” Those children better pray it was.

Gale chuckled. “The fireball? No. No, that was completely intentional. To aim towards me…that was the mistake. At least I’m hoping it was. I suppose if my students wanted to kill me, it would’ve happened by now.”

Before you could scold him for his words, Tara returned. Her wings were stretched out as she carried clean robes for the wizard.

“Thank you, Tara.” Gale reached for the clothes on her back.

“I shall attend class with you tomorrow,” Tara stated as Gale redressed himself. “Allow me to teach those children obedience.”

“That is most unnecessary,” Gale dismissed, positive that Tara overheard him despite his careful volume. “They’re simply eager to learn! I cannot punish them for having a hunger for knowledge.”

“You can punish them for an attack, Mr. Dekarios.”

“What do you think?” Gale sighed as he looked over to you. As he struggled with the last hooks on the robe, you came to help. “I say, let them off with a warning.”

“Perhaps Tara is right.” You commented, “you have a hard time disciplining, Gale. Let her help you.”

“They’re not psychopathic,” Gale tried to defend.

“One is.”

Gale held back a laugh with a scoff. “She needs guidance. From her professor.”

You looked up and met his gaze. He was watching you hook the clasps, which was something he always fought with. But you could do it right, each and every time. He smiled at you, “you’re a natural.”

“Oh, do not change the subject!” Tara caught on.

Gale almost had forgotten she was there. Everytime he caught a glimpse of you, everything else would fade into milky darkness. As you pressed a kiss to his cheek, he peered back down at Tara. “I’ll think about it, Tara. Now may I relax with my dear wife?“

Tara squinted at him, “you may, Mr. Dekarios.“

Gale shivered as she walked away. With Tara on her own, he wrapped his arms around your waist and turned his attention toward you. He was looking forward to anything and everything that didn’t involve magic, for sometime.

“How do I look?”

You fixed his collar with a grin. “I’ll allow the mirror to answer.”

[kudzuoath]

I'm DYING. I knew Tara could launch a fireball at the player, but I didn't realize she would also do it to Gale. I love Tara. She is such a gremlin.

[photo ID:

Tara the Tressym: Actually Mr. Dekarios, I think the sorry one will be you. [devnote: Tara launches a magic missile/fireball at Gale.]

Gale: I am. Stop that Tara! You need to leave the pigeons be.

Tara the Tressym: Oh no. I'm chastened. Tara the Tressym: In actual fact, I'm going to eat them up even faster and more voraciously than i did before. How about that? [devnote: Tara eats all of the pigeons after this.]

end ID ]

[we-ask-beforewe-bite]

Tressym: Now, now, darling - you'll want to leave that be. Gale: Tara remains as wilful as ever, but I'm glad you've finally made her acquaintance. Given the length of time away, I feared she might have given up on me. I should have known better - she'd never do such a thing. Levis: She launched a fireball at me, Gale! Gale: Oh, I'm sure she had her reasons. I'd actually been thinking about introducing the two of you anyway. Over a sumptuous home-cooked meal, if that sounds at all to your taste? My tower in Waterdeep boasts an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. Not to mention a larder stocked with my homemade hundur sauce. Levis: Inviting me to your house for the first time? You must really like me. Gale: More than you could possibly believe. Now that we've got something to look forward to, I think it's time we went and saved the world. Don't you?

[ I misclicked and made Levis steal the post rather than trigger an interaction. ]

[galedekarios]

🐱

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

The Wizard Of Waterdeep Part 2

Part two of my Gale POV, if you have any suggestions as to what he goes through then please tell me!

Light streamed through the gossamer curtains of the tent, the gentle glow of the sun slowly roused Gale from his slumber and pulled him gently from a dreamless sleep. Though it was a shock to wake in the wilderness, it was a welcome shock, after a year confined to his tower with only his tower walls and Tara’s company, it was nice to feel the fresh breeze of the wild alongside his new companions. Gale’s mind flitted back to Tara, his Tressym and loyal friend, wondering how she was faring after his abduction, she who helped him during his confinement and discovering that absorbing the essence of the weave sated the orb in his chest. It was not worth wondering how Tara must be feeling, Gale assumed that she must have thought he had finally succumbed to the orb, to take himself away in the night somewhere secluded and let the Netherese magic claim him finally, the thought of such a thing only made him sad, quickly pushing the thoughts away, instead focusing on the new day ahead of him.

As the first to rise Gale inspected the camp, stalking the ground and looking over each tent, taking in the individual nuances that made each companion different. Lae’zel’s tent was adorned with an unimaginable amount of weapons, it almost staggered belief to as to how she managed to find and pack them all in such a short span of time. Astarion’s tent was the complete opposite, barely a decoration to be found amongst the sad straw bed and old rag used to cover him, Gale made a mental note to himself that he would help the poor fellow live a bit less rough and loan him some comforts for the road. The quiet walk around camp helped to soothe Gale’s worries about Tara and his hermit life he lived in his Tower, though he was living rough with these strangers it was the first time he had felt alive in a long while, breathing in the fresh air and letting it fill his lungs, savoring every moment in the dawning sun as if it would be his last.

The sun began to illuminate more of the campsite, causing people to rise from their slumber one by one, Gale was sat beside the campfire cooking what little food supplies they had found in the chaos of the day prior. It was not much food yet it was something, it was sustenance enough to power through the day ahead, though none knew where the day would lead them. Breakfast was a quiet affair; all were eating together yet stares amongst each other proved that trust was yet to be established, concerned looks were floated around as they ate, worried that each person here could be of a threat. Gale had no such qualms with his new companions, he was delighted to have such people beside him, he knew that none would be of danger as they all had the same affliction that needed to be remedied, the tadpole issue was of a more pressing concern than the threat of each other.

Breakfast was swift and simple, though it was not what Gale would normally consume it put a spring in his step nonetheless, though the pins and needles in his hand travelled up his arm he was still optimistic, certain that soon they would meet a vendor that would have an enchanted item for him to consume.  It was hard to deny the pain the orb was causing him, it made his arm tremble, and he feared the other companions would notice, that they would pick up on the fact his aim was getting progressively worse, his fireballs were missing more often and causing fights to last longer.

The most recent battle was barely won, by the skin of their teeth is how close it was, only having prevailed due to aligning with some strangers fighting alongside them. The pain was starting to radiate more into Gale’s chest, thumping inside of him as if it was threatening him, warning him that it was close to eruption, he was still hesitant to alert his new comrades as to his situation, worried that he would be ostracized again, it was the loneliness that Gale feared more than anything, he could deal with the Tadpole on his own just fine but he craved the companionship more than anything, the year that he spent alone was torture, far too much for him to endure again.

The battle went by in a flash, and suddenly Gale and his party found themselves within a beautiful grove of nature, a place where people and the wilderness thrived as one. As the party walked down the worn path they approached the same man who opened the gates during the battle, all of which was still a blur in Gale’s mind. It was a Tiefling judging by his appearance, one of esteem by the armor he was wearing as well. He had by all accounts just left an unsavory conversation, the flair of anger upon his cheeks making him appear more crimson than his skin already was.

“I apologise for that display, it is not normally in my nature to act so brash” The strange man spoke with a voice like silk, bowing as he introduced himself. “I’m Zevlor, my people are stationed here for now, until Khaga gets her way” Gale was ready to intervene and ask what Zevlor was implying, he was beaten by Tav whom asked only a second before he could, curious as to why the Tieflings were being banished from this place, seemingly to accept all of natures creations.

“They believe us a threat, the Goblin attack only further cements the Druids concerns” A deep sigh left Zevlor’s lips as he spoke, his mind was full of ways he could protect his people, frightened that if they were ejected from the Grove they would not survive. “It is a lot to ask but would you beseech Khaga on our behalf? You have already done us a great service in the aid in the fight against the goblins so I understand if you refuse” Gale was ready to accept the request before Tav even responded, the thought of Zevlor and his people being thrown out into the wild was his blood boil, no person should be without help in this world.

Tav accepted the request, much to Astarions chagrin, him feeling that they should not help people who could not help themselves. As the party made their way through the Grove they encountered a vendor, it took much persuading but Gale managed to hold off their current mission for a moment to buy an enchanted item. The item he bought was of little consequence, a small locket imbued with the weave, yet enough that would sedate the Netherese magic in his chest, subduing the pain that was now thumping wildly in his chest.  

Gale bought the locket and inhaled the Weave bound to it, it caused a few odd looks from his camp members, yet they did not question it for now, it would be a discussion for later. Inhaling the Weave cured Gale’s ailments, the throbbing in his chest and the pins and needles in his hand faded away in an instant, clearing Gales mind and body, restoring him to his full power once again.

Tav had noticed this change in Gale, yet for now they did not want to address it, it was enough for them that Gale was present and aware as they tried to address the tadpole issue. Back at camp Tav kept an eye on Gale, watching as he moved around, wondering why he needed to buy the enchanted locket that he was not wearing.

Gale was on cloud nine, enjoying life and embracing the nature of the camp, his orb was sated once again and his chest was free of pain, he knew that within the coming days he would have to sate it once more but that did not matter to him, he wanted to enjoy the feeling of normality again and ignore his hubris of trying to equal a goddess. It humbled Gale every time the pins and needles affected his hand, reminding him of how his own ego attacked him, the feeling of wanting to be equal to a goddess becoming his downfall.

Camp  was made once again, this time each member made effort to speak to one another, understanding that they were in this together and should at least be friendly in some sort of way. Out of all the companions it was Tav that Gale bonded with mostly so far, he could not define what pulled them together but he felt that he could wax poetic and talk about the Weave for hours with them. A soft smile and pat on the shoulder was given as each companion made way to bed, Gale would have stayed up for longer yet did not want to force Tav to stay awake.

The night air was cool and filtered through the tent, Gale enjoyed the breeze as it made him feel alive, in contrast to his life within the tower. The dawn would bring a new day, one that would mean his party would speak to this druid “Khaga”, he hoped and prayed it would go well. Whom he prayed to he did not know, it was not Mystra as she had not heard his prayers in over a year, yet he hoped one God or Goddess would accept his plea and bless him with luck in speaking with Khaga on the morrow.

[egooppidum]

LMAO

Tara the Tressym: Actually, Mr Dekarios, I think the sorry one will be you. (devnote: Tara launches a magic missle/fireball at Gale)

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.7}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

A/N: i haven't finished the game personally but i have seen (minor) spoilers of the epilogue and uhm... i feel so validated knowing what his job is after the events of the game. complete, even. so glad larian agreed with the fandom on this one :) also warning for slight mentions of smut/nsfw material!! no actual smut here, but just beware. MDNI

Word Count: 3.2k

The early morning went about as you’d expected; Serving salmon for the Tressym and warming up what remained of the mushroom stew despite it not being much of a morning meal. Seeing as how the stove was being used, you decided it best to make yourself a cup of coffee along with the soup, though the pairing wasn’t a very pleasant one. Better than nothing, as you weren’t sure you’d manage to survive the day without some form of caffeine, and coffee was the only way you knew how to access that booster. Once you finished your makeshift meal, you spent a little while cleaning the kitchen, and then found Tara waiting for you in the study, planted in front of a very familiar book. 

“Flames and Fatalities,” you remark, and Tara purrs in response, pressing a paw to the left page, one claw unsheathing to tap at the passage she pointed to. You step closer to get a better look, and your hand rests on the back of Gale’s chair. You hesitate, unable to avoid the feeling that you’re lacking permission to sit in it. To sit at his desk. To take his spot. This chair isn’t meant for you, and you’re sure you’ll insult the tower by making any attempt to replace him. He isn’t here, and he isn’t dead either, and yet you struggle with the idea of disrespecting him.

“Oh, dear, it’s not going to eat you – Sit,” Tara mews, rolling her eyes at your conflict, and you force out a nervous chuckle. Pushing past the discomfort, you pull the chair out and take a seat, hovering on the edge of the chair, not wanting to take up any more room than absolutely necessary. Tara either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, as she pulls her paw away and tilts her head up, expecting you to read.

Clearing your throat beforehand, you give a meek roll of your shoulders and begin reading the passage. “Chapter six, Avoiding Accidental Amalgamations,” you over-pronunciate as you fight not to twist your own tongue on the words, “Spark spells and their synergies… Uh, fire and freeze frustrate– Gods, does everything have to be an alliteration?” You grumble, shaking your head. 

“Wizards and their wordplay. Mr. Dekarios is merely a fraction of the pride most take in their language. Overdone, if you ask me. Carry on,” Tara dictates, and you nod, finding your place on the page once more. You continue to read aloud, going over the reactions of different spell types, ranging from fire, to force, to thunder, to psychic, and everything in-between. Including some you didn’t know of, despite all the reading you’ve been subjected to. 

“Wouldn’t ‘radiant’ be the same as fire?” You ask, and Tara shakes her head, her tail flicking. 

“Hardly! Oh, dear, this will be a long journey, won’t it?” She sighs, and you chuckle awkwardly, not sure if she means it as a tease or a slight. “Fire-based spells, such as the flame bolt you cast the other day, or more… trained skills, such as fireball, rely on heat; the physical form of sparks, blazes, and what have you,” she explains, her tail twitching, reminding you of Gale’s gesticulations whenever he explained similar topics. The parallels are amusing, making you feel a little more at ease with his absence. “Radiant spells, however, have direct connections to religion. The spells that devoted clerics or paladins most commonly use, for example, are usually spells that make use of their religion, which comes in the form of radiant lights. Examples of said spells include guiding light, sacred flame, and so on and so forth. Are you particularly devoted to a certain God or Goddess?” She asks. 

“Well, I was closest to worshiping Mystra, since Gale was so fond of her, but not so much with my knowledge now. My parents both worshiped Lathander, but I never really ‘devoted’ myself to one specific deity,” you explain, leaning back in the chair, allowing yourself to get a little more comfortable.

“Radiant spells require the channeling of devotion, so it’s unlikely you’ll come across such spells in your practice. Anyhow, I do assure you that the two are quite distinctly different,” she reminds, and you give a small nod, returning to reading the passages in the book. 

The ‘lessons’ (though it soon felt more akin to storytime as you read infodump after infodump aloud to Tara, and even she seemed bored after a while) continue until you reach the end of the chapter, at which point Tara promptly excuses herself for a nap. Frankly, you were surprised she didn’t doze off during your reading. 

Scanning over the thirteen pages again, you decide that reviewing would best be saved for a time when you weren’t feeling so zapped. For all the reading you did, decoding the tongue-twisting alliterations took up most of your brain power, so the processing part of the lesson was sorely lost on you. Using a spare feather to mark your place in the book, you close the guide and stand up from Gale’s chair, only now realizing just how far you’d been sitting back on it. Any of your previous reservations seem to have been pushed entirely aside, and you glance around the study as if to offer apologies to the room. 

Tara, resting in the small nook by the fireplace, appears to have already dozed off, and you’re left not entirely sure what to do with your time. Usually, at this point in the day, Gale would make a request of you, or allow you to find some story or written lecture to occupy yourself with, or you’d be in charge of picking up around the study, but…

With only you and Tara, there isn’t much of a mess to clean up after. Everything was exactly as you’d left it last night, save for the Flames and Fatalities book being removed from its usual place on the shelf, but you figure that it’s best to leave it out for now, as you expect to return to it before long. 

You don’t need to make lunch, as you aren’t currently hungry, and there’s not the usual extra wizard to feed. It feels lonesome, really. You’re not much of an apprentice without a mentor. Not much of an assistant without a boss. Not much of yourself without him. 

Mildly unsettled at the reminder, you do your best to think of some way to entertain yourself, and you are quick to recall the plans you’d made last night. Seeing as how Tara tends to sleep in his room, her napping in the study grants you a short, but sure, opportunity to ‘peek’ into his bedroom without fear of interruption. 

Breaking and entering is hardly the right term! You live here too, and you’ve seen inside of it before, even if you haven’t necessarily been invited inside or actually ever stepped foot past his door. 

Anyways, since the rest of the tower is remarkably tidy, you can only imagine the mess that awaits behind his door. Blaming it on your lack of direction, you figure the best way to stay in touch with your role as apprentice is to do some gentle rearranging and fixing of his bedroom. Almost like a gift to him, upon his return. He’d surely be delighted to find his private quarters in a much better condition than he left them.

And if you just so happen to find the rumored book that somehow completely changed his mind, you wouldn’t be complaining. 

So, with a quick regard to Tara to ensure she’s paying no mind to you, you step towards the dark door that you’d only ever seen cracked open or completely closed. He’d never given a direct reason as to why he kept his private quarters so private. In his defense, you’d never asked, for fear of seeming disrespectful or potentially upsetting him.

Oh, how far you’d come. 

Perhaps your comfort had festered into the slightest of flaws. It was fine in moderation. But maybe you were a little more comfortable than the term ‘moderation’ could bend to fit. Recently, you’d made quite the series of advances that certainly tested the limits of your business-based relationship with him. Though he was hardly innocent of making similar leaps in faith, and sometimes you wondered just how far you could take it. Of course, when you found your mind wandering, you were always quick to shut down such adventurous hypotheticals, as he was your mentor, and you, his apprentice. That was all it would ever be. Nothing more, and hopefully, nothing less.

Besides, he’d made it perfectly clear he was neither interested in nor gifted with the time he deemed necessary to pursue romantics. Between the pressing matter of the orb and how busy he was in his day-to-day life, you’re nearly positive that a relationship is the last thing on his mind at any given time. 

The door creaks when you open it, and you cringe, but Tara remains settled and, by all appearances, soundly asleep. So you push it open just a little further, enough to awkwardly shimmy inside, and you’re met with a much stronger scent of dust and… sage? 

There’s a bed, round and draped with messy indigo silk, in the middle of the room, pushed up against a wall with an equally circular window, the panes split into four sectors by silver dividers. Those dividers stop at a smaller circle in the middle of the window, forming a pretty design to compliment an even more gorgeous view of the water. You doubted that the balcony, as pretty of a sight as it offered, hardly surpassed the view that this window had, and it makes you wonder why he didn’t mention it when you previously asked if he missed the stars. 

The room is, as you expected, in quite a disastrous state – The bed is lazily arranged, the four satin pillows messily strewn across the head, and the silk blanket is on the verge of dressing the floor rather than the mattress, making you wonder if he even bothers to make use of it when he sleeps. Bookshelves line a foot and a half of wall space on either side of the window, though the dust stacked up on most of them is visible even when you’re a few yards away, and you have to stifle a cough just thinking about trying to neatly clean them. 

You’re quite sure that those bookshelves were incredibly neat once upon a time, but now the books lean in all different directions, making it obvious exactly where a book was plucked from the company of its comrades, and was never important enough to put back. It also helps that there are piles of books stacked around the room. There’s one stack to your left, just narrowly avoiding being knocked over by the arc of the opening door, and another one-and-a-half by the right side of his bed. A few other, shorter stacks litter the floor, most pushed against the nearest wall, though it does little to make the floorspace appear any neater. 

There’s two rugs – one large dark blue rectangle that is unevenly layered underneath the foot of the bed, the longer sides stretching out to the left and right, and another small red square that nestles underneath a cat tree, and you realize that the natural wooden posts are the most probable cause of the underlying cedar scent of the room. Still, the sage goes unexplained, at least for the time being.

You close – or, nearly close – the door behind you, curious as to where exactly you should start searching. Or– tidying. Where you should start… tidying. 

Naturally, you’re drawn to the bed. Despite the complaints of your initial hesitancy, you dare to take a seat on the edge of it, your hand brushing over the strikingly soft satin sheets, matching the maroon of the messy pillows, and you struggle to see a world in which a man who sleeps on this level of comfort could possibly wear the same weary exhaustion that Gale’s eyes do. Surely, anybody who was gifted this absolute perfection of a sleeping space would receive the best rest known to man, hells, even known to any of the gods. And still, it isn’t quite enough to balance the scales of Gale’s stress. 

You frown, momentarily finding yourself pitying him, but you quickly shift your thoughts, knowing very well that pity won’t help anyone. Slightly subconsciously, you dare to arrange his pillows a little neater, lining them up against the fabric-wrapped, shell-like headboard. Continuing, you grab the silky indigo that washes over one half of the bed and pull it closer, and only then does the origin of the sage make itself known. Double-checking your assumption, you pull one handful of the blanket closer to your face, slowly inhaling, and your suspicions are confirmed. It shouldn’t come as any surprise that they smell exactly like him, but it does come as a surprise just how much that detail soothes you. 

A little strange, you have to admit. Perhaps it’s the familiarity that has you grasping it a little tighter, running your thumbs over the impossibly soft texture, holding it close enough to continue enjoying the aroma. Barely has the sun managed a full cycle since he’s left, and gods, you miss him already. It’s embarrassing, a little shameful, and you don’t appreciate the places your hypothetical imagination wanders, contemplating the permanent loss of his company, how distraught such a development would render you. 

So you hold the blanket for a little longer before eventually conceding, scoffing silently at your own perceived immaturity, and you return to your initial plans; straightening his bed. You fix the blanket, lightly tucking the edges between the mattress and the bed frame to keep them in place. You continue around the bed until your foot hits something beneath it, and you first believe it to be one of the feet of the bed frame, though it’s out of place, and uneven compared to the placement of the other supporting posts.

Allowing curiosity to get the best of you, you kneel, and find four books pushed underneath the bed, stacked too neatly to be accidental placements. Well, you did have two goals, after all. And maybe these are the books you’re looking for. So you reach underneath and pull out the stack, placing it on the bed. Interestingly enough, there is barely a lick of dust to be found on any of the books. There’s no title covers on any of them, not even a sewn in phrase or name on the spines of the books. 

How mysterious…

It would be positively insane of you to not indulge and examine these books a little closer. And you’re nothing if not sane. So, you sit on the bed once more, even shuffling up to the head and getting a little more comfortable as you grab the book off of the top of the stack, the forest green leather showcasing mild signs of wear, as if it’s one that’s been combed through, maybe with more urgency than usual, many times. Your curiosity only builds with your anticipation, and you scan the inside of the spine, noticing a few poorly tagged folded corners of pages, as if to mark his place in the book, though given the appearance of multiple markings, you doubt that’s the true reason behind them. 

Deciding to see what exactly intrigued him about the different sections, you open to the first folded page, expecting to find lectures on spells, or the weave, or magic, and…

What you find isn’t completely different from what you expected, but it’s definitely not what you would have imagined the Gale Dekarios owning in any universe. It doesn’t help that your eyes immediately locate the words ‘erotic’ and ‘stimulation’, but taking a moment to read the entire page does very little to assign those words to any normal context. 

You knew he owned plenty of spellcasting books and story books, more than you knew to even exist, but finding an explanation on how sexual encounters ‘in’ the weave (whatever that might possibly mean) work was not ever included in your general assessment of his belongings. Part of you wants to assume that he only had this in his collection because of his endless studying of the weave’s potential uses, but the louder part of you is not paying much heed to Gale’s reputation. 

And yet you find yourself reading on. Maybe his reputation isn’t the only reputation at risk. 

All things considered, it’s quite an interesting read; from explanations on astral bodies and heightened senses, to the many ways that magic can be applied to more intimate occurrences, and it does make you just slightly more keen on learning how to manipulate magic like Gale can. 

Not in these ways, of course!

But it does pique your curiosity, to say the least. 

You read a page or two and then flip to the next dog-eared section, suspending any of your disbelief that this was actually happening, that he had such questionable literature stored away, and continue to read. At this point, you’re only digging him a deeper hole, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to see him the same way. This section of the book continues with the theme of magical intimacy, though delves into more personalized – ‘solo’ would be a better term – events. 

There is a small attempt to pull your eyes away from the text, but it’s much like viewing a carriage crash, some spectacle of horror, only that the horror is embarrassment, and you’re unsure if you’re more ashamed of yourself for reading it, or of Gale for owning it! It’s no help that your imagination, as cursed as it surely is, is rather quick to form some fragmented image of Gale following the steps in the book and making far more degenerate use of his mage han–

The book is closed. Abruptly. Forcefully. You cannot read anymore. You shouldn’t have read that far, you shouldn’t have investigated, you shouldn’t even be in his room in the first place. If only you knew just how ‘private’ his quarters truly were. 

There’s three more books. And you may never have another opportunity to learn about this side of him. 

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been curious before. 

After all, he was involved with a goddess, and that was surely no easy feat. 

But you know better. You’re prying, you’ve more than gotten back at him for ditching you, and you were raised better than to push boundaries. Boundaries that, mind you, you have snuck past, and you can already feel a burdened guilt beginning to stir inside of you. You place the green book back on top of the stack and push them under his bed once more, finishing up your tidying of his bed and you promptly leave, fully prepared to be haunted by your relentlessly imaginative mind for the next few days.

Still, you have to admit, for someone so objected to the idea of romantic pursuits, he sure does know how to keep himself satisfied. Or… so you assume.

Damn, you really need to find something else to think about.

[daisyofwaterdeep]

"#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I CANT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I ADORE THIS" "#this straight up cured my gale-related brain block" "#my heart is so full and happy and warmmmm"

Then my mission was accomplished! 🫶 Follow your bliss!

Oh! Here are few other things for you to consider for your writing that I hope you might also find helpful (do whatever you want with this information):

•Apparently, Tara can speak regardless of Speak With Animals.

•Tara wears an amulet in-game called Tressym Collar, a very rare magic item, and its item description is, "The gem in this collar's centre is placed as a common courtesy: it allows the tressym's summoner to be identified and complained to in the case of bereaved pet owners or pigeon-masters. This one glows with a Waterdhavian name: Gale Dekarios." and it allows the wearer to cast Telekinesis once per long rest.

•Apparently, Tara can (and will) cast Fireball.

•Tara evidently loves to eat pigeons, but you can also trade fish with her for certain magic items in-game.

Now go! Be free and write to your heart's content! 🤗 (also, what you've already wrote is adorable)

waitwaitwait okay so the Speak With Animals thing....I know that when I meet Tara on the roofs, I can't understand what she's saying. Gale and her can have a convo, but for me, she just meows. If you reload and take a potion, you're then able to understand her. But then, iirc at the epilogue party you don't need one. I had assumed they just did that bc you can't buy items at that point, and they didn't want you to accidentally lock yourself out of the conversation.

so are you telling me that she chooses not to talk to you on the rooftops, unless you put in some effort? If you just waltz up to her, she essentially plays dumb. You have to actually make an effort to communicate with her in order for her to speak with you.

Thinking of it that way, it's almost like a test. "Here's this stranger getting chummy with Mr. Dekarios. Will they treat me like some dumb animal or will they try to talk with me on equal footing?"

Tara's the best omg