#Elturel Has Fallen

[bg3ficreviews]

Thunder reforged: Rolan x Dammon - #BG3 FanFic Review

Review by Aivu (@aivuthedragon)

Happy timezone, dear readers! Today I'm happy to bring you this incredible series of works by velocitross on AO3. What's hotter than a tiefling wizard with a knack for a well-timed thunderwave? Said tiefling wizard having a rendezvous with his tiefling blacksmith paramour, of course.

A note from the BG3FicReviews team: The entire BG3 community was been rocked by the recent controversy surrounding Dammon's VA, including the various fanwork creators who've fallen in love with Dammon, included him in their work, and are part of the LGBTQAI+ community themselves. We want to express our support and love to Dammon fans, Dammon fan work creators, the LGBTQAI+ community generally and all those adversely affected by what's happened. As such, we have decided to feature such works in our reviews this week. Make your love louder than the hate. 💜

As always, mind the tags! Our review is continued below the fold due to the NSFW nature of the content in these works.

This incredible artwork by @arczism was inspired by velocitross's Rolan x Dammon fic Working Steel, which is included in today's review.

Working Steel, the first of velocitross’ three works that include this rare pair, is a masterwork in character portrayal. The author adeptly captures the at-a-glance somewhat incompatible personalities of the two tiefling refugees who fled Elturel together and now reside in Baldur’s Gate. In this work, the relationship between Rolan, the ever-surly wizard and the newly ‘appointed’ master of Ramazith Tower, and Dammon, the gentle yet infernally talented blacksmith of the Forge of the Nine, has grown far beyond mere friendship.

Rolan, frustrated by his attempts to catalogue the mindless chaos remaining after the untimely death of the tower’s former owner, approaches Dammon to ask for his help and visits him at his forge. But what could a blacksmith possibly offer a wizard? Well, a good fuck, for one thing. Rolan is pent-up, impatient, and needs a good lay. And, it turns out, so does Dammon. The smut that ensues is not only blazingly hot but also beautifully captures the tender affection between the two tieflings through not only their words, but small, unique gestures of love and care. (Mind the tails. I mean, tags. No, tails.)

In Up in the Tower, it’s Dammon’s turn to visit the wizard’s domain. But the blacksmith receives a less-than-warm welcome, as the ever-grumpy Rolan becomes highly annoyed at having his work interrupted. But considering Rolan is dressed in little more than his underwear and an open robe, I’m more than willing to forgive him for his surliness. Dammon, however, being the sweet, gentle soul that he is, insists on taking care of Rolan beyond his carnal needs alone. In this work, the relationship between the pair deepens, and the author has wonderfully captured the intimacy of the pair. Lastly, we have Within the Storm. This work takes us back to the Shadow-Cursed Lands as the tiefling refugees attempt to cross its desolate lands on their way to Baldur’s Gate. When the Absolute’s forces ambush the group, Rolan expertly wields his magic to stave them off. But when something happens to Zevlor, the battle takes a turn for the worse. In the chaos, Rolan’s siblings, Cal and Lia, are kidnapped and several of his friends and co-travellers are brutally murdered.

Once at Last Light Inn, Rolan is a fucking mess, devastated by his siblings’ capture. Lost in the depths of his despair and way too much drink, the tiefling wizard finds comfort in the arms of a fellow refugee he’d known since childhood - Dammon. And thus the gentlest embers of affection between the pair begin to spark to life. This lovely one-shot serves as a prelude to the author’s much-anticipated long fic about the pair, their growing affection for one another and what looks to be a truly beautiful love story. If you would like to follow velocitross’ incredible work about the love between a tiefling wizard and blacksmith, please be sure to subscribe to the author on AO3 and follow their work and the pending long fic. We have included a snippet of Working Steel below for your enjoyment. As always, please support the writers of our incredible fandom by leaving kudos and comments on their work. 🫶

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Working Steel

By velocitross on AO3

The ring of his hammer fills Dammon’s ears and his attention as he works. A soft frown of focus curves his lips. It’s a simple enough repair—restoring a blade for the halfling woman standing outside the forge watching him work. Still, there’s a satisfaction to it: the rhythm of his strikes, the heat of the day in Baldur’s Gate warming him beneath his layers of apron and clothing. The ordinary busy noise of the city goes on just outside his focus, a subtle, stabilizing comfort even months after the Netherbrain’s defeat.

When he glances up from his work, a distinct figure catches his eye amongst the passersby. Rolan, with his proud bearing and his regal blue and red robes, coming toward the smithy with a tense, bothered scowl and his tail lashing behind him. A smile touches Dammon’s lips. He knows that look.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he says as Rolan comes to a stop an awkward few feet from the halfling waiting on her sword.

“Well, don’t take too long,” Rolan snaps, and then reddens further when Dammon raises an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. I’ll just—I’ll wait.”

Dammon lifts the blade off his anvil to study it. He smiles at the halfling as he passes her the sword.

“Give that a try. Come back if you need anything else.”

She moves off to the side to examine the blade, allowing Rolan to step up to the forge. He stands, arms crossed, his face flushed as he fixes Dammon with his bright yellow stare.

“Anything I can help you with, Rolan?” the blacksmith prompts.

Rolan sighs. He places his hands carefully on the edge of the anvil, glances again toward the halfling woman, and leans in toward Dammon.

“I need . . . Steel.”

Dammon breathes a good-natured chuckle.

“Come on,” he says, nodding over his shoulder toward the building. “I could use a break, anyway.”

[gaysindistress]

Never Love an Anchor

Pairings: gn!Tav x Zevlor

Summary: a ship can never love an anchor so Zevlor cut you loose but kept the love he held for you in his heart, hoping that maybe that might change.

Warnings: talks of cannon violence in bg3

Word count: idk man I wrote this in my notes and it’s more than a Drabble but not a fic so somewhere between? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I highly recommend listening to ‘never love an anchor’ by the crane wives. I read something from @gnomishcunning awhile back about the things that Zevlor deserves and that’s what inspired this so give them love too 💕

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The great Hellrider Commander. The new leader of the exiled Tieflings. An old and broken paladin with no faith to draw strength from. A man who’s been charged with the protection of his people and expected to do right by each and every one without fail.

Commander Zevlor.

Or simply Zevlor as many of his people call him.

You’ve heard many stories about this famed man but never have you laid eyes on him. Elturel isn’t far from Baldurs gate so it wouldn’t be completely unimaginable to say that he somewhat of a hero to you. What happened to the city struck both fear and sorrow into your heart. The worst part, however, is knowing that the tieflings would be the ones to suffer the consequences of actions they had no part in. It takes a selfless soul to take on the duty that Zevlor has and this only adds to the respect you have for him.

The first time you meet is during the fight in front of the Grove. Arrows and spells are flying around as you battle the goblins with people you don’t even recognize. One goblin in particular has evaded your attack almost every time and has moved into a lethal position. Their arrows are landing successfully every time on the tiefling guard above the stone door, nearly sending him to an early grave.

Vaguely you hear someone shout his name as he stumbles backwards when an arrow lands in his shoulder,

“Zevlor!”

Shadowheart is doing what she can to protect you as your world seems to slow. Lae’zel ’chk’s at you when she notices your faltering movements and cuts down a worg coming for you while Astarion sneaks behind the remaining 2 goblins. The one that shot at Zevlor and has been dodging you also notices this and makes to attack you next. Your blade is faster than their bow.

They fall to the ground as you throw your last healing potion at the fallen tiefling and order Shadowheart to use her last spell to heal him.

The battle is won soon after and you’re finally able to meet this hero of yours for the first time. Rather than reducing to a star struck mess, you keep yourself composed as you approach him arguing with Aradin. Somehow you manage to convince them to stop fighting before yet another battle breaks out. You direct Aradin back with a simple point of your finger before turning to the Hellrider. It’s then that you realize there was one important detail missing from his legends; his striking beauty.

His horns stretch and bend far beyond most tieflings indicating both his age and wisdom. The infernal ridges that line his cheekbones and forehead bring attention to his entrancing eyes. Glowing like the enteral torch, Zevlor’s eyes study you with caution as you marvel at his appearance. Moving from his face you take in the worn but cared for chain mail armor that sits upon his strong shoulders that carry the burden of thousands. His chest, board and equally strong as his shoulders, seems to move in time with your own breath; adrenaline filled but calming all the same. It’s a testament to the seasoned paladin that lives within him, his reassuring strength that does not waver in the face of danger. It’s proof of the well trained commander within him that strategizes his every move as well as others.

Whatever words you thought might aid you in introducing yourself seemed to disappear and all you can offer is a half smile. Zevlor thanks you for your help but it’s not without a lingering gaze that cuts through your confidence. It seems he’s mistaken your shyness for indifference towards his people. Regardless he still asks for your help in getting his people to Baldur’s Gate. Your immediate acceptance causes several of your companions to be upset with you. Frankly Shadowheart is the only one who has an inkling about what’s truly going on. That night at camp, she brings whatever wine she could find to your tent and slowly drags the truth out of you.

“I couldn’t help but notice your fascination with Zevlor,” she muses from behind her chalice before adding, “well I could but there’s no fun in that.”

You chuckle at her as you take a sip of your own wine. It’s bitter and foul but it’s something to sooth your nerves no less.

“My fascination? And what exactly did I do for you to notice such a thing?”

“You stared at him as if he were the most beautiful piece of art work you’d ever seen. That or he was a feast after starving for weeks on end.”

“I did no such thing!” You try to defend yourself but it fails horribly when neither of you can stop laughing. “Fine maybe I did but can you blame me? He is a beautiful man.”

Rolling her eyes, Shadowheart finishes her chalice and turns to face you. It’s startling to have her full attention on you like this but the wine has lessened your concern.

“Tell me truly; do you have feelings for him?”

You stare back at her and hope that her goddess might have mercy on enough to smite you where you sit. Alas you have no luck and are forced to answer.

Your eyes find the empty chalice in your own hands as it dangles from your fingers between your knees.

“I think..,” you start with a sigh, “I think that my feelings are irrelevant in our current situation. A relationship, a romance has no place among the fight we’re facing. Matters of the heart have no relevance when making decisions the lives of many.”

Your strangely beautiful yet sobering confession renders the cleric speechless for once. She glances to between the moon and you before nudging you with her shoulder.

“Do not be so quick to cast your feelings aside. You never know when matters of the heart may take precedence.”

Some months later after the nether brain fight, everyone has settled into their lives and gone their separate ways. Wither’s gathering has already passed and this would be maybe a few weeks later. lakrissa and alfira have gotten married and theres to be a small reception in the city at the Elfsong. Of course the heroes of baldurs gate are invited seeing as without your party, the couple wouldn’t have survived this far.

Zevlor and the tieflings have made amends following the finale battle so he’s in attendance as well. He’s still cautious and honestly probably a little scared that they will change their mind and shun him for what happened at Moonrise so he’s a wall flower. He makes his rounds and keeps up polite conversation but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome so he plans to leave pretty early on. The rest of the party has arrived; Karlach and Wyll are the current stars of the hour as they tell fabulous tales of their time in Avernus. Gale and Lae’zel have sent their regards while Astarion and Shadowheart keep their chalices full and their gossip hushed. The only ones missing are you and Halsin.

Everyone knows that the two of you had something special but no one could ever figure out what. Shadowheart swore herself to secrecy and Astarion charmed the conversation to something entirely different. As for the others, no one knew why you chose to follow Halsin to the former shadow lands, only that you had and seemed to be content. Zevlor hasn’t seen you since the last fight and it created a deep rift within himself to think about it.

On one hand, he had nothing more than your conversations and the one near kiss to use as evidence of your affection for him. On the other, he remembered your tears when you found him the mind flayer colony and how you whispered a promise of forgiveness to him before you left to fight Thorm. He recalled in excruciatingly vivid detail the feeling of your tear soaked lips pressing to the corner of his as you pulled away and the utter devastation that filled your eyes.

“They will understand and they will forgive you if you give them the chance, Zevlor. You are their commander, their leader, their champion. You are not at fault for this and they will see that if you let them. Promise me that you will try. Promise me that you will not forsake yourself.” You whispered to him in a cracked and pleading voice, “promise me you’ll try. You deserve it.”

His heart pounded against his ribs as he forced himself to look at you in the eye. His knees buckled as your lips brushed against his. His voice wavered as he agreed to your promise. His strength cracked as you smiled at him and left to face almost certain death.

Zevlor isn’t so foolish to believe that you would’ve chosen to follow him after the finale battle but his heart yearned to think about that possibility. The chance, no matter how small, still felt real even as he anxiously waited for your arrival.

Like a goblin’s arrow, the sight of you walking into the Elfsong arm and arm with Halsin pierces Zevlor’s heart. You do in fact look content; your skin is glowing from being able to eat your fill and sleep as long as your desire. Your hair has been released from its strict hairstyle; bouncing around your face back in soft waves and shines in the pale evening light. Your eyes, while they’ve always been stunning, have a new spark of warmth and joy. No longer are you clad in armor but instead you’re wearing a white and blue patterned outfit that flows around you like water. Your figure has also changed but in this new attire, it becomes even more apparent that you are healthy, happy, and a feast yourself. The smile that blesses his dreams widens as you begin to notice your companions and former allies.

Zevlor casts his gaze to the ground when Halsin presses a kiss to your hairline. This confirmation is too much for him to bear and he finds anything to occupy his mind.

As the gathering quickly turns into a celebration, Zevlor attempts to make his exit. He quickly bids the couple farewell and congratulates them before trying to slip out without being noticed. A deep sigh leaves him as soon as he’s outside the doors and it’s not one of relief.

Frustration maybe.

Anger perhaps.

Or is it shame that forced him to leave without even acknowledging you?

“I knew you were not one for crowds but this I did not expect.”

He halts and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s been caught.

“The city has been treating you well, I take it. You look…” you trail off as you allow the tavern doors to close behind you, “good. Not that you didn’t before but… a life of ease agrees with you.”

Zevlor doesn’t face you, a choice that pains you more than you’d like to admit. He’s almost frozen in place as you approach him.

Coming to stand just beside him, you murmur his name and all but beg him to look at you.

With great effort, he does. A hint of blood woven pain flashes in his infernal eyes as he gazes down at you.

“But how have you been treating yourself, hm? Have you forgiven yourself or have you forsaken yourself to a life of solitude?”

He says nothing but it’s an answer enough; he’s not kept his promise to you. He crosses his arms over his chest and attempts to look more casual about the whole situation.

You begin to say his name but he cuts you off, “go on and enjoy the celebration. There are many people who have been waiting for a chance to speak with you.”

“what about you?”

His thick brows knit in confusion, “me?”

“Is there anyone else out here?” You tease for a moment, “I did mean you, Zevlor. What about you? Were you one of them?”

He wants to pretend that he wasn’t but he can’t, not when he’s been agonizing over this moment for months now. A particularly loud shout draws your attention back to the tavern and when you’re not looking, he can’t help his gaze. Almost immediately he finds himself staring at your revealed chest and the way your shirt does little to conceal the vast plains of your torso. A lump grows in his throat at the thought and he barely swallows it before you look at him again.

“I’ve thought of little else but what it would be like to see you again these last few months,” you say after taking a deep breath, “Halsin finds it difficult to not tease me about how ‘preoccupied’ I seem most days. On our way here, he told me that I better say the words I’ve been pondering all this time or he would do it for me.”

At the mention of Halsin, Zevlor unintentionally stiffens and looks over your shoulder towards the tavern. You follow his line of sight and step in front of him once more. It’s a bold move but no bolder than what you’re about to do.

You place your hands on his folded arms and gently pull, asking him to step closer and to give his attention.

“I know of the rumors about Halsin and I. I’d hoped that you hadn’t heard of them but it appears that you have and now I fear you won’t hear what I have to say.”

Zevlor stares at your hands for a moment before letting his eyes flutter closed. “Speak plainly, y/n.”

His words are uncharacteristically short and cold, a stark contrast to the person you’d come to know. You go to drop your hands and step back but one of his shots out and grabs your wrist, keeping you in place.

“I need you to be clear and precise right now. There cannot be any doubt or confusion from this moment forward.” he tells you in a low tone, one of authority and of a Hellrider Commander.

The hand on your wrist shifts to grip your bicep and pulls you impossibly closer. Your own breathing quickens when your feel your chest press against his and you find yourself leaning into his grip, relying on his strength to keep yourself upright.

Your voice, usually strong and confident, wavers as you whisper, “Halsin and I….we are no more than friends.”

Zevlor stays silent, only searches your face for any tell that you could be lying. The hand on your bicep flexes and his claws press into your skin. You hold back a hiss from the sting, pushing aside the pain to become fully absorbed in his presence. He goes to apologize however your lullaby words silence him, “He is not the one I’ve longed for since we first met.”

His hand tightens and tries to hold you in place but his strength fails him. Your hands drift from his arms to his chest and come to rest on his jaw. The tiefling’s eyes flutter closed at the contact and he takes a deep, sharp breath.

“Y/N,” he warns.

“I’ve admired you from the moment I first heard your story. I’ve known that you were going to be someone deeply important to me from the moment we fought side by side in the grove. I’ve yearned to learn everything about you since you reject my advances at the celebration, claiming that I could have anyone I desired. I’ve cared for you since learning of your fate in the Shadowlands. I realized that I loved you when I found you in moonrise in that awful colony but I’ve loved you far longer. I’ve loved you all of this time but yet I couldn’t find it within myself to tell you for fear that you wouldn’t feel the same.” Tears begin to flow from both of you as you whisper your confession to him and he keeps his eyes closed, “Zevlor I’m in love with you and I want nothing more than to be with you if you’ll have me.”

His tail wraps around your waist, keeping you close while his hands slid up onto your neck and tilt your head up. With a shaky deep breath, he musters the strength to open his eyes and look at you. The old paladin has forsaken his forgotten god many months ago and promised to live in your honor. He’s swore an oath to you that you know nothing about but it would seem that you have done the same.

“My love for you knows no bounds and no rivals,” he whispers as his lips brush against yours, close but not close enough. “I’ve waited long enough to hear that you feel the same. Promise to me that this is not some cruel joke, a drunken confession but the truth. Promise to me that you truly mean that you love me.”

“I love you,” you hastily whisper before finally capturing him in a passionate kiss. A groan slips from him at the feeling of your desperation to convey your feelings but it’s returned tenfold.

It seems that Shadowheart was right all those months ago.

[jellyfitzjelly]

I wish you would write a fic where…Zevlor accidentally saw shy gn reader (crush) absolutely being enraged with Aradin for being so rude, and disrespectful towards Zevlor!

Sorry for the long delay, anon! I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless. 🥲

Disrespect | T | AO3

Zevlor strolled throughout the Grove, unable to find Tav. He had found himself seeking their presence more and more ever since they arrived. The Hellrider had to be honest with himself: he had been besotted with the adventurer ever since they punched Aradin. They were a shy, pretty thing but steel was hiding beneath this enchanting exterior. Zevlor had fallen hard and fast.

As he was still searching for Tav, he heard voices. He approached the secluded spot, curious. He spotted Aradin and Tav talking.

“I’d love to give it to you and wish you a happy funeral, but I only got the contract. Have it if you so desperately want to get diced by goblins.”

Tav took the contract from the young man, reading it over.

“Now fuck off and go back to sucking horns’ tail.”

“What did you say?” Tab bristled.

“What? Like I haven’t seen you make bedroom eyes to that foulblood. Ain’t that why you had a go at me? So you could suck devil dick?”

“Don’t you dare disrespect him like that,” the young adventurer growled.

“Or what, bitch?”

“Zevlor is a thousand times the man you’ll never be, bitch,” Tav spat. “He’s a hero, you’re just a pissypants afraid of a few goblins.”

Zevlor saw Aradin clench his jaw, bunching up his fist. Instincts taking over, he sprinted and arrived just in time to shield Tav and push Aradin to the ground.

“Have some respect for the person who saved your miserable life,” he growled, eyes burning with anger. “If you dare raise your hand to anyone in this camp, you will have to fight tougher enemies than goblins!”

Fear flashed in Aradin’s eyes. He got up, throwing an angry look to Tav.

“Fucking foulblood. You’ll see, one of these days!”

He walked away, throwing looks behind his shoulder as if Zevlor was going to pursue him. The Hellrider turned to Tav.

“Are you alright?” he asked with concern, bringing a hand to their cheek.

The young adventurer blushed bright red.

“Ah, y–yes, thank you,” they stammered.

Zevlor couldn’t help a fond smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind their ear.

“I am truly thankful for the high regard you hold me to, but you shouldn’t put yourself in danger because of me.”

“Aradin was being disrespectful!” Tav bristled again.

“My life has been a long succession of Aradins being disrespectful,” he sighed. “One more won’t upset me.”

“Was life that bad in Elturel?” they murmured, eyes filling up with sadness.

“It wasn’t,” Zevlor reassured them. “Now, the sun is setting. You should go back to your camp.”

“Could…Could you walk me back?” they asked innocently, but Zevlor could see the blush in their cheek and the eagerness in their eyes.

He chuckled.

“Lead the way.”

[bara-izu]

My current Faerun campaign characters (plus Morpho who's from Pathfinder) - more details under the cut >:)

Morpho is a freed slave of Absolom, who was 'contracted' as a performing entertainer for the past 10 years. Since slavery was outlawed in Absolom they managed to move to a small town called 'Otari' where they met a band of budding young adventurers and accompanied them on their quest to disable the 'Gauntlight'.

Halion, taking leave from his order after an argument, was caught up in a failed attempt to rob the tollhouse within Baldur's Gate. The City of Elturel has just 'fallen', and Baldur's Gate is being swammed with refugees. After being wrongly accused of coercing with the criminals he is now acting as a temporary Flaming Fist, helping them uncover the resurgence in crime committed under the name of the 'Dead Three', and doing his best to help those fleeing the Holy lands of Elturgard.

Null is a carefree wanderer who works for the highest bidder. After the party of nobles they were commissioned to escort into 'Undermountain', were wiped out on the second floor, they were picked up by a second group, confused by their seemingly blase nature to it all. Null is polite and friendly, but sometimes says the most macabre things out of nowhere...

Derendil is an elven prince from the surface. After being cursed by a witch to take the appearance of a quaggoth, he was cast down into the underdark and captured by drow.. While the rest of the party have never heard of his kingdom, nor can he remember much about his life before he was imprisoned, he is determined to get to the surface as soon as possible...hopefully before the demogorgan can do so...

[lostinforestbound]

Inspired by @slumpsnail 's piece of their Dark Rolan concept! Check out their other piece here!

The Rise or The Downfall of a Wizard's Apprentice?

CW: Blood, Death, Description of Breakdown

The first emotion was shock. Rolan couldn't move from his place on his knees as he watched his master clinging to whatever life he had left. His hands are stained red, settled on his lap while Lorroakan crawls to him, his own blood seeping onto the floor in rapid speed. Rolan can't recall what he did exactly, but it was during one of his usual beatings. Something about being a "failure" and "an idiot who deserved everything he gave to him". The memory is fuzzy now, he didn't even realize he stopped shaking from fear.

Lorroakan doesn't say anything, not that he could from the pain, but he looks fearful. A fear of death, perhaps? What a coward.

His mouth spits blood out, and he looks ready to beg. For mercy, Rolan hopes, because how humiliating would that be, for a master to beg for his life from his student?

His mentor doesn't get the chance before he stops moving, the life leaving his eyes, wide with a permanent terror. Rolan wonders if he's going to one of the Hells, his soul forever tortured.

After the initial shock dies down, he runs his hands down his face, uncaring of the blood trail he leaves on his bruised cheekbones as his eyes shine with glee. He killed Lorroakan, the Lorroakan, and yet he felt nothing but pure joy. Is this how Tav feels when they kill someone they hate? This addicting satisfaction that makes his blood rush with adrenaline?

By the gods, is he going insane? He can't find it in his heart to care, so he laughs.

He laughs and laughs, loud and prominent, echoing in the stillness of the room. What a fool he has been. Was it always this easy to kill someone? Does it matter now? It felt so fucking good. Even as he calms, his happiness still remains. In all honesty, he thought he could have died here. When he first struck his master, it was out of terror. He was going to beat him again, and he pleaded for him to stop. It didn't work, and when his teacher's staff raised once more, he held out his hands and- Bursting into a new, quiet giggle fit, he rests his head on his still-wet hand, staring down at the body with a smile. "Oh how the mighty have fallen, Master Lorroakan. Though, you were not mighty to begin with."

A small part of his breaking mind is screaming at him, wondering what in the hells has he done? What would Cal and Lia think if they saw him now, practically bathing in his master's blood? What would their mother think? What would they think when they realized he it enjoyed it?

It doesn't matter, they're all dead, including the man he once was.

He gets up on surprisingly steady feet, leaning down and grabbing Lorroakan's hair by the scalp, beginning to drag it towards the balcony. "Master Lorroakan, do you believe in karma?"

There is no response, but it's not as if he was expecting one. The body's getting cold.

"I'm not talking about you, oh no, I'm talking about yours truly." He says casually, grip tight. "My parents abandoned me, and when I get adopted into another one, their mother dies. Then The Descent, where I saw prowling devils and undead roam the streets, tearing people apart. When we finally escape, we're exiled by Elturel, our only home. When we finally make our trek to Baldur's Gate from a grove that hated us, Cal and Lia are eaten alive by shadows."

He finally reaches the railing, leaning against it to rest briefly. "Then, when I eagerly arrive to you with nothing, you beat me for saying the wrong answers to nonsensical questions. Yet look at you now."

Lifting the head to his face, he grins happily as he stares into the lifeless eyes of his mentor. "Master, I believe karma is finally on my side, after all this time. This tower is mine now," he snorts, trying not to laugh again, "I suppose I should thank you! None of this would have happened if it weren't for your weakness."

He picks up the body proper now, getting closer to the railing. "Goodbye, Master. I'm sure there's a special place in the afterlife, just for you."

Without thinking twice on it, he throws Lorroakan's body off the edge, watching it fall down the edge of the tower. He can't see the bottom from here, but he can't only imagine the body mangling as soon as it hits the ground. The people down below probably won't recognize who it is, but that doesn't matter.

All of this knowledge in the tower he now has access to, but where to start? He should probably clean all the blood but...no, he'll keep the stains there for a while longer, as a reminder of one of his greatest achievements.

A spineless wretch is what Lorroakan was. A pathetic, greedy human who wanted to keep this almost infinite knowledge and artifacts all to himself. Now it was all Rolan's, the new master of Ramazith's tower.

Master Rolan has a good ring to it, and he's too excited to get started on his infinite studies.

That's when he notices that dwarven man in the corner of the red stained room, shaking like a leaf. Another apprentice under Lorroakan. He saw everything. What was his name again? Ah, well...

He fires his magic missile in an instant, killing the man from where he stood with the brightest smile he's ever had in many years.

There cannot be witnesses, now can there?

Part 3

[scandistar]

Whipped together some portraits of my Tav’s family. I’m quite happy with how they turned out, but my favorite part was probably coming up with their designs. I love drawing families, especially siblings, because of the challenge of making them distinct from each other, but still similar enough that you can tell they’re related.

Anyhow! I’ll give you a ”short” introduction.

The Morensis family

Charrelin. Neurodivergent ranger/druid with a keen eye for nature and biology. Studied with a elderly druid for four years as a child, but had to return home when her family lost their farm. She had worked with mercenaries for two years, but her entire team was slaughtered by vengeful thieves that would snatch her and keep her chained in a basement for more than a tenday. She was freed when harpers had happened upon her during their raid of the bandit hideout. She suffered a punctured lung during her captivity, but despite being healed, she developed a chronic cough.

Neira. Charrelin’s little sister who struggles with body image issues because of her infernal features. She compensates by making herself more physically and socially appealing. Has scars on her horn from trying to saw it off in her childhood. Is a talented musician and works at her mother’s shop most days.

Tyra. She’s the oldest sibling and takes that role seriously. She joined her father when he moved to Elturel to find work to support his family. She stayed with him for the next 14 years while he worked as a carpenter. The both of them lived with an old friend of her father, under the condition that they pull their own weight. She did so effortlessly. She also started working as a butcher to add to their earnings. After Elturel had fallen, she had become one of the tiefling refugees traversing the perils on the road to get to Baldur’s gate.

Sedja. Mother of four and a farm girl since birth. She inherited her father’s yard after his passing and would raise a family there with a man from Elturel. She has a deep understanding of agriculture and after she lost her farm, she’d go on to establish a flowershop in the lower city of Baldur’s gate.

Orendal. Father and husband. Moved to Baldur’s gate when he fell for Sedja and joined her efforts of maintaining a farm and a family. He worked hard, was well liked by those not opposed to his existence, and took good care of his family. Until another farm brought competition, slimming down their profits. He would injure himself after an accident and was forced to give up their property. After he recovered, he was quick to depart for Elturel to find a new job, joined by his eldest daughter. After Charrelin’s abrupt dissappearance, he’d become a drunken mess out of worry for his family. It got worse over the years, until he stumbled and fell off a roof and injured himself again. Old as he was getting, he couldn’t return to work after his recovery. When Elturel fell, so did he, into Avernus.

Magnus. He’s the youngest of the four siblings. He was only seven when his father had left for Elturel. He grew into a silent young man, one to keep to the background while his sisters ate the attention. He did what he was told and never objected much. In his later teens, he had started working for fishermen to make some coin of his own. It was going well, aside from that one night he had been ordered by the captain to hoist a body off the boat. As usual, he did what he was told and never spoke of it to anyone.

There is so much more I’d like to say about them all, but for now I’ll just leave a little appetizer.

[forgeofthenine]

I got bit by another idea bug and I blame you for reblogging the “Single Dad Dammon” post. I see that and raise you “Tav and Dammon were together before the fall and got separated because Tav was away when the city fell”. (The Tav in the scenario that bit me is not a tiefling, mainly because mine isn’t but this narrative does also work with a tief Tav)

And then when they’re freed from the hells, he has no idea how to find you and you have no idea how to find him. But gods you try. You follow every scrap of a rumor once you’re done grieving and manage to pull yourself together when you can accept that yes, for now (only for now, it can only be for now, please gods don’t let this be life from now on) your husband and child are gone. You chase every thread of hope until there’s nothing left to give and then you move onto the next. The old adventuring instincts you buried when you put away your weapons and armor come screaming back to life from where they went dormant the second you found yourself caught by a pair of eyes like the sunrise over the horizon.

And then you get the word that the city is back and you immediately turn and start running home. But before you can make it there you here word about the city exiling all the tieflings and you can only force yourself to march on, listening for any word of where they may be headed while a white hot rage burns in your chest at the thought of your family going through yet more hardship.

You finally learn that the exiles are heading to Baulder’s Gate and you make your way there, beating the crowds and finding a place to live in the city. (You’ve amassed a small fortune in your recent travels, but it was already a struggle to force yourself just to survive and frivolities held no joy. The only exception was if some little bauble or trinket caught your eye that you thought either of them would enjoy.)

You spend days checking with those managing the influx of refugees, checking multiple times a day for if their names have come though with no results. Logically, in the part of your mind that has to know these things, not everyone who disappeared would have survived Avernus. Ever more have probably fallen on the journey to a new home. But you can’t think about that. They will make it, you will hold them again. You will. (You dont know what you’ll do if you can’t)

One day you overhear some of the newer arrivals talking about the troubles on the road with the goblins and the Absolute’s cult and this is a problem you can help with. You had no way to get to the hells and save your family, never mind rescue your entire city (because as much as you want to, as much as you would want to take your family and run, you would have to try) but goblins and cultists? These are mortal issues that can be solved by mortal means. So you once again put away your sensible clothes, you lock up your new home and task a neighbor with watching it while you’re away and head off, newly armed.

Your maybe a day or two from the city when you get snatched by the Nautiloid and now you have a whole new host of problems to deal with and as much as you wish you could abandon everything and keep searching, you’re no good to anyone dead or a mindflayer. And so you gather your new companions and march on.

Back at the Grove, Dammon is as settled as they can be when your hosts are already planning to chase them from the only safe refuge they’ve had in recent memory. The Archdruid who championed their stay is gone and Zevlor isn’t making any headway with Kagha. Now the goblins are literally at their door again and they’re just waiting until the druids push them into their arms when a ruckus at the gate swells and then suddenly ends. The sounds of battle outside fade to nothing and the gate is opened.

Those that left with Halsin rush in first, followed at a more sedate pace by your party. You have your talk with Zevlor and learn that this is another group of refugees from Elturel. It takes a moment for your heart to catch up with your mind after the conversation ends and suddenly you’re moving, scanning every face you pace, looking for those eyes. The sounds of the world fade away as your ears are full of nothing but a roaring. You pass the training area, your companions following you worriedly. One shouts your name as you head into the common area the tieflings are sharing and Dammon head snaps up at the sound. Your eyes track the movement as a result of years of habit and there he is.

Your reunion is slow, you’ve never been one for big showy emotions but that does nothing to stop the tears from beginning to pour from your eyes as you abruptly start forward towards him.

Dammon is frozen as you walk towards him. He slowly puts down his tools and takes off his apron, convinced that every move he makes will wipe away the mirage he’s sure you are. And yet you’re still there, still walking towards him. He can see the tears and he longs to wipe them away. Then you’re in front of him and you don’t know which one of you reaches for the other first but you hold each other so tight you know there’ll be bruises. It’s only when your child runs up to you and cries out for you that you separate for a moment and come back together again, the three of you bundled tightly with Dammon holding you both so securely that you wondered how you hadn’t fallen apart without him.

I can honestly see it going either way after that, either Dammon joins your camp (because like hell is he letting you run off without them so soon. And you may as well be together anyway, the last time he and your child stayed behind for safety the hells opened up and swallowed their city.)

Or you separate with plans to meet up in Baulder’s Gate once you’re safe again and then reuniting at the Last Light instead. He confess how guilty he feels for running with your child, how others might have been saved if he stayed but he couldn’t take that risk. You hold him while he shakes with his guilt and kiss his brow, his cheeks, his lips, whatever you can while you thank you for saving your child and himself. 🪻

I'm honestly so obsessed with this you won't even believe-

The idea of a short trip separating you from loved ones for weeks, not even knowing if they're alive or if you might see them again. That sweet relief of reuniting (and the palpable confusion of the rest of your group), the needing to figure out 'whats next?'

I'd honestly love a way for Tavs to have a previous connection to existing NPCs (other than durge and Orin/Gortash), even if just from a roleplaying perspective. I adore this though, I always love seeing what you send in flower anon <3

[thranduil-aran-edhil]

BALDUR'S GATE 3: DESCENT INTO AVERNUS

AKA Baldur's Gate 3: Fury Road :D

(BG3 and Descent Into Avernus spoilers ahead!)

The relationship between the D&D module Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus and BG3 is a very interesting one. The module acts as a sort of prequel to the video game and we see the consequences of one version of a Descent Into Avernus campaign in the video game.

The premisse of the module is: the city of Elturel has fallen to the Avernus, (actually it's been pulled into it by Zariel) and it's up to the players to save the city and find out why and how that happened.

By the time the Tadfools arrive at the Emerald Grove, Elturel has already returned to the Material Plane. We don't know who did it, Zevlor only tells us "a group of adventurers" did it. But reading the module and comparing it to BG3 we can deduce a few interesting things about how they did it.

Since, in BG3, Zariel is 1. Still alive 2. Still the archduchess of Avernus we can be certain the Heroes of Elturel didn't defeat her nor did they redeem her, both things you can do in the module. So they either:

a) Made a deal with her to let the city go or b) Pulled one Hell of a plan to find and destroy the Infernal Contract binding the city, sever the chains that kept the city in Avernus and then lift it back up to the Material Plane.

If option 1 is true, the only thing Zariel would accept in exchange for letting Elturel go is her Sword. And if given the Sword as part of a deal, Zariel will simply destroy it and her only chance of redemption along with it. Her best friend, Lulu the hollyphant will probably go mad and die.

Then the only way to recover Karlach's heart is to defeat Zariel. Very epic ending to her story, and would be an amazing boss battle too.

HOWEVER. If option 2 is true, if the Heroes of Elturel went out of their way to bypass Zariel almost entirely, if they got the contract and destroyed it, if they got some powerful being to destroy the chains and if they freed the Companion and the planetar inside it lifted the city back to the Material Plane, all under Zariel's nose... Then the Sword still exists, then Lulu is still alive, if very very sad, by the end of BG3.

And that means Karlach can get her heart back by redeeming Zariel. And by having a sick ass MAD MAX STYLE adventure in Avernus!! With the Tadfools!! After the Netherbrain battle!!

[orkbutch]

rly excited to share got! but I'm really not in a writing fanfic mood so im just gonna post abt it lol.

I'm MOST excited about Zariel & her Fallen Angels. For those who don't know Zariel's lore, she used to be an Angel of justice, and she got corrupted by Hell in her attempt to enter Avernus and beat back the Abyss, cause her biggest goal in Forever has been wiping out Demons. That failed, she got corrupted by Avernus, and she decided to martyr herself and become the archduchess so she could fight the Blood War. Some other shit happened, she got deposed then came back, stole Elturel for a while until it was recovered in the events of the Descent To Avernus.

In got! she is no longer the archduchess of Avernus, and has been Mildly Redeemed in the past by the events of Descent Into Avernus. She's not become an angel again, defs still a devil, but she is far more pragmatic than most devils (rather than outright evil) because of her angelic origins. She gave up her post as Archduchess willingly and struck a deal with Asmodeus, and technically shes a duchess within Nessus, but she is usually in the Material Plane operating Zariel's Fallen Angels.

Her goals are still to defeat the Abyss and also to either destory or usurp Hell, but her plans to do so have shifted away from pouring more soldiers into Hell (which does not work and has lead her to do many an atrocity) and toward gaining some kind of extremely potent power outside of Hell.

Because of this, her and Karlach's relationship is also very different; Karlach was offered ZFA membership during a 10 year murder sentence inprisoned in Baldur's Gate. (She was framed by Gortash.) Karlach accepted for the sake of her own safety and survival, and because she didn't know the full terms of the membership, which is in fact a Pact Eternal.

This Pact Eternal grants a power: Zariel's Rage, an extremely volatile and powerful rage state uniquely tied to loyalty to Zariel, where her angelic-turned-devilish vengence is channelled directly. Basically, Karlach's rages are buck fucking wild. Her fire isn't a piece of machinery, but instead an organic transformation she underwent as part of her membership; all members must take on a devilish transformation. Gortash and Zariel have no allience or history.

[too-chill-ka]

Dudes, Elturel has fallen. Did you know?

Day 6: Murder, Forbidden Love, Awoken, Lust, Support

[haru-sen]

His Oath Renewed

A Through The Gates of Horn and Oak Act II Zevlor Ficlet

He clenches his fists, feeling that familiar power pour through him, anchoring him to his body once more. He missed this, the tight bonds of his oath keeping him upright, giving him clarity and purpose. But he has it once more, now that his god saw fit to grant him mercy, to give him the salvation he yearned for. With his faith restored, he can hold his head up high once more. He needs no reminder that he is a Hellrider for life.

The armor is different, the insignia unfamiliar. His gauntlets are gone...in your care now. He sighs, a feeling of warmth bubbling up in his chest. The gauntlets were merely a token, a remnant of his fallen pride. At the time, it seemed right to pass them on to you, and with his oath reinstated, they are of little concern. You will have him at your side, a paladin once more.

And both he and Halsin are now free to put down their mantles. Neither man wished for leadership, it was a burden thrust onto their shoulders by bitter circumstance. But that is done now and there will be more time for personal pursuits.

Tell us about the Archdruid. Tell us about her.

The voice is soft, feminine, yours. He relaxes. Of course. You have this way of getting past his guard, under his skin, into his head-

And yet, something is not right.

Tell us, Hellrider.

He kneels before you, resting his cheek in your palm, the warmth of your skin soothes the ache inside him. He deserved none of this before, but now...

Show us that you are worthy.

Is he worthy though? His jaw twitches, and for a moment, he recalls the shadows. He remembers telling them to lay down their weapons. The Absolute is going to save them. The Absolute gifted them this chance. They just had to trust him-

It was your voice, but those words, that intent-

Zevlor remembers. And he instantly wishes that he did not. A sickness blooms in his heart, the visions appear clearly once more. The blood on the road, the screaming, the slaughter of his people, even as some laid down their arms, as they trusted his command. He led them astray. He bartered their lives for his own hollow dreams. What else could they expect from an oathbreaker? It is his weakness that ruined them all, his feeble heart, rotten from the inside. It is no different than if he put them to the sword himself. He paid for his torment with their blood and now he is reaping his rewards.

No oath can mend this.

If he screams here in the blackness, no one hears him.

Tell us, Zevlor.

That is not you. You are not here. You were never here. And if Ilmater has any mercy left in his broken body, you will never come here, you will never find out what happened to him.

Zevlor, it doesn’t have to be this difficult. It sounds so regretful, and even though he knows it is not truly you, hearing that wounded disappointment in your voice cuts him to the core. We will reveal the truth of your soul yet. We will break you down. We will build you anew.

And then it begins again. He stands in the streets of Elturel, watching as his home falls into Avernus, knowing that there is nothing he can do to save himself, let alone his people. He tastes bitter ashes and smells the blood on the wind. It is already too late. There is no escape.

The sky is burning.

[pebblethestone]

The Paladin and druid

Zevlor x druid reader

Summary - You go out looking for herbs and someone saves you from a goblin.

Masterlist

Paladin And Druid Masterlist

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Words - 1435

A/n - hello so uh Zevlor definitely needs more love and more story's for him so I thought why not make one foe him so here it is. Happy with took one day and bot 4 lol, I'll probably come back to this to fix bits and bobs

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Your eyes scan the area as you walk along the dirt path looking for herbs as well as berries to pick to help back at the grove, your eyes land on a gooseberry bush with some light green round berries on it as you grab a container from your basket you hold in one hand, opening it and then start plucking out some berries that looked good.

As you were busy you didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching you from behind as you heard a voice shout out to you.

"Watch out!" You hear from behind you and turn around to see a goblin running straight at you with its sword raised, your eyes widen you don't have enough time to react, feeling someone push you to the side as you land on the ground, hearing two swords clashing against each other looking up to who save you from being stabbed by a goblin.

You see a tiefling whose skin is a deep red, his horns dark He is tall and looks strong as he fights the goblin, watching as they move away slightly from where you where as you continue hitting their swords together you see as the goblin grows weak as the tiefling strong blows weaken it, the goblin realises that it didn't have a chance as you drop it sword and run away. The tifling turns back to you.

"I do apologise for pushing you over miss/sir/mx," he says as he exchanges his hand to

rds you to help you up, you reach up and take it, giving him a little smile.

"No, no it's quite alright you did save me from being impaired by a goblin, Sir," you say looking at him as you look back where you were on the ground you see that your basket had broken and the herbs and berries that you have collected had all spilled out, making you sigh a little.

Bending down as you try and pick it all you and put it back into your broken basket, seeing the tifling bend down to also help you pick up the container of gooseberries as he hands it over to you.

"I am Zevlor, by the way," he says as you both stand up straight, you now holding your basket in both arms.

"Am Y/n, you are quite far from home no?" You ask, eyes watching him.

"Our home Elturel has fallen, we are refugees and we are looking for somewhere to stay, while we get ready to travel to Baldur's gate" he explains to you, your eyes filled with sadness as you frown a little.

"Well am sure my people will be happy to take you in for a while, until you are ready to travel again, but I'll have to talk to them about it," you say with a small smile.

"Actually, how about you come with me to the grove, so you can talk to the first druid and no need to worry he is very nice" you say as you grab Zevlor's hand and drag him with yours as take turns, left and right following the dirt path coming to a place with a huge wooden gate.

As they open you're welcomed by Halsin who is your brother as well as the first druid, looking a little crossed with you with his arms crossed over his chest, as you were actually not allowed to be out of the grove because of the goblins roaming around, give him a little sheepish smile as he raised his eyebrow at you then looking over at Zevlor, the tifling becoming a little nervous.

“Brother, I have come with someone seeking shelter as well as his people, I think we should let them stay with us until they are ready to head on their way to Baldur's gate” You walk to your brother as well as see Kagha standing nearby, as she watches the tifling.

“Y/n I told you to stay in the grove, or go out with someone not yourself,” he says with a sigh.

“I know, but I did get some of the herbs we needed,” you say, as he gives you a look.

“The tifling and his people need somewhere to stay for a while?” Halsin says as his eyes move to look at Zevlor, as you nod.

“I am Halsin, First druid and you may be?“ he asks as he holds his hand out to shake.

“Am Zevlor, I am leading my people to Baldur's gate for a better life, am asking if we can seek Refuge here until we start travelling again,” He says explaining to Halsin the elf nodding.

“well am more than happy to let you stay until you are ready to set off again you may stay here as long as you need, Y/n will go with you to go back to your people and help guide you back here” looking back at you giving a little nod, and you give him you basket.

“it will be getting dark soon we should go get your people,” you say as you turn your head to Zevlor having to look up a little.

“You right we shall return before it becomes too dark” he says to your brother as the elf nods, as you take the lead on heading out the grove watching the big wooden open again letting you and Zevlor out.

After walking in silence for 20 minutes following Zevlor he speaks up.

“So what do you do at the grove?” he asked with curiosity.

“oh am a healer and study animals, and what role is it that you are?” you ask looking at him.

“I tend to think that am a leader to these people helping them find a better life,” he says to you, making you feel warm that it seems he cares deeply for his people.

“it's nice to see you care so much about your own it's hard to find now a days,” you say

“Thank you, we're almost there just around that corner and our small camp is there,” he says pointing to where it is as you nod.

Once you get around the corner you see tiflings crowded around each other some look tired, some are in need of food and some ill children are running around playing seeing them makes you smile a little.

“well then let's get you people to the grove, they need better shelter,” you say looking back at Zevlor.

“yes I'll tell everyone what's going on and then we will travel back to the grove,” he says as he walks off to tell his people about what's happening. You look around until you feel a tug on your sleeve, looking down you see a little girl tifling looking up at you with curious eyes.

“Hello, miss/sir/mx why are you here?” she asks, she has orange-ish hair her skin grey and purple and bright orange eyes. As she stares at you.

“I am here to help you until you are ready to set off to adventure to Baldur's gate,” you say as you crouch down

“What's your name, am Y/n” you say as she still looks at you with big eyes.

“I'm Arabella, I like your bracelet” she says as you look at your bracelet made up of different greens, browns and tans, that you made in your spare time when you were bored. You untie it with your other hand as you look back at her.

“Hold out your hand, small one” you say as you tie the bracelet onto her wrist as she takes her hand back looking at it.

“thank you, I got to tell my parents,” she says as she runs off making you smile as you feel eyes watching you, you turn around and see Zevlor leaning on a tree his arms crossed but a smile dances on his face. Deciding you get up from the crouch you are in and stand up straight watching him as he pushes himself off the tree and heads towards you.

“It seems that everything is ready and we will head back to your grove once we're done packing” You nod your head as his eyes watch every movement you make.

“It was very kind of you to give that bracelet away to the child,” he says to you, as you hum a little before replying.

“Yes, but she seems very interested in it and they are easy to make so I might as well give it away” you say turning to look at him and seeing something in his eyes, not knowing what it is.

[blackjackkent]

All right. Sort of found Minsc last night, but hopefully tonight we find him for realsies!

To the sewers! Show me how excited you are about going back to the sewers, Hector.

That's what I thought.

I stole some fancy new armor for Jaheira out of the back of the secure vault from a box with a DC-30 SoH check; I savescummed it, yes, but I feel no guilt from an RP level bc it was not labeled as an item that would be considered theft. XD So I'm choosing to believe Glitterbeard gave this to us as thanks for saving his hide.

It looks pretty dope on her.

We have to be somewhat careful here because (I have been informed by @aloptext) the game actually isn't kidding about Florrick only having five days to live. So if I want to get Minsc and then save her we need to be fairly judicious with our long rests. So for now we'll go straight to Minsc and try and avoid getting caught in any other trouble in the meantime.

...

...

I wrote the above and was IMMEDIATELY accosted by a woman in the street out of nowhere. It actually startled me a little.

"You! The gods-damned disease of the Gate! Lady Mizora told me everything - how you and the Blade of Frontiers slaughtered his own father, how he craves ultimate power, how he means to make the city bow to him and him alone! First I finish you! Then I finish the duke's traitorous son!"

...Mizora, you motherfucker. >:|

I guess we should have expected this. Hector's pretty upset about it; they already had Orin doing her best to smear his reputation in the city. He doesn't need Mizora doing it too.

The woman's anger seems sincere, though; he suspects she is a decent, honorable person being misled by Mizora's lies but doing what she believes is the right thing. And-- I recognize her name!

"Cordula Eltan." Almost certainly related to Duke Eltan, founder of the Flaming Fist, who was present at Caden's adventures in BG1.

We have the option to address her with recognition, as her family has "a storied history" in the city, but Hector has a history check he can take instead, nerd boy that he is.

[HISTORY] A relevant thread of knowledge pokes at your mind. Explore it.

Narrator: You remember the stories of Elturel's fall. The city was dragged into the Hells at Zariel's behest - and Ravengard along with it.

Ooh. I actually forgot that Ravengard was apparently involved in the original fall of Elturel. It's not super clear if the implication here is supposed to be that Mizora is shooting for revenge against him for escaping Zariel's grasp, but that certainly seems to be the line Hector is trying to take.

"Zariel's stunt destroyed countless lives," he says soberly. "Mizora is her minion. You can't trust her."

Eltan hesitates... then sheathes her blades. Hector gets the distinct impression she was already thinking this in the back of her mind and he has merely forced her to confront it.

"Stand down," she mutters. "I believe you, the Battle Lord help me. What darkness has fallen upon us..." A slight pause; she looks Hector up and down consideringly, then seems to come to a decision.

"Listen. There's something Wyll should know," she says earnestly, her voice softening. "On his way from Elturel, Ravengard sent a messenger with word of the cult. He knew about the Absolute. I thought little of it at first - but he realized the danger before anyone else did. He understood that if the cult were successful in raising an army, Baldur's Gate would be doomed."

Her eyes narrow. "And he knew that to protect the city, one trained in the ways of the great champions would have to rouse the wyrm living beneath. If I'm not mistaken, that would be Wyll."

Wait.

What?

Hector blinks rapidly, thrown by this unexpected pivot in the conversation. "Do you mean there's a *dragon* living under the city?" he asks, bewildered.

"A bronze dragon, to be precise," Eltan answers gravely. "Sleeping beneath us. The wyrm goes by many names. Ansur. The Waiting Storm. The Heart of the Gate. He made Balduran a binding promise to protect the city when its need was greatest."

...Interesting. (Especially interesting that the Emperor didn't feel like bringing this up when it mentioned we need to look for allies. Seems like the sort of thing that would be valuable information.)

"The city's survived countless threats," Eltan goes on. "But Ravengard knew its walls would fall to the cult. With him gone and the city near ruin, your call is to unleash the Heart of the Gate." She hands him a curled scroll of paper; he feels the fragility of it, the age of the paper. "'The Legend of Ansur.' The bards call it a tall tale. But every last word is true. Follow its path to the wyrm." She scowls tightly. "Or do not, and let the Coast be drowned in blood."

Hector considers the woman in silence for a moment. He has heard of this story obliquely in some reading or other - but not as something seriously considered fact. But this woman seems quite lucid in all other regards so he is hesitant to call her mad in this one. And if it's true...

They need allies. And, to be honest, Wyll needs something to give him a sense of purpose in the wake of the terrible sacrifice he's had to make.

"Your faith in us is well-founded," Hector says, matching the younger woman's serious tone. "We will seek the wyrm and ask for his help."

Eltan nods crisply. "I was right to lay down my arms, Foehammer be praised. I should go, gather allies. We'll join you in your hour of need. Free the wyrm, and may his thunderous wind drive the Absolute from the Coast."

-----

Well, that was unexpected. XD Hector's days continue to get weirder.

The written tale she gave us is fun because it has notes from Wyll's dad written in the margins.

I guess we'll go look into that after we've gotten Minsc, Florrick, and potentially Ravengard himself to safety.

[jellyfitzjelly]

May I request a prompt where Zevlor accidentally overheard his shy gn reader (crush) struggling to say something to Tilses so he misunderstood that they're confessing to Tilses because of how nervous they are but he heard them trying to confess to HIM?

Of course! Hope you like it! [READ ON AO3]

Zevlor was strolling around in the forest, enjoying the fresh air and the quietness. He was wondering where Tilses had disappeared to; he hadn't seen her for the past hour. He couldn't help but worry about her.

"I–I wanted to see you today because...Because...."

Was that Tav's voice? Zevlor frowned, puzzled, and approached the source of the sound. He stumbled upon Tav and Tilses visibly discussing something. The Commander felt curious, and decided to stay hidden and partake in some harmless eavesdropping.

"What is it, Tav?" Tilses asked them with kindness and an encouraging nod.

"Well.... I wanted to see you...b–because I l–like you! I–I've been charmed b–by you ever since you fought off those goblins at the gate!"

Zevlor blinked, stunned. Tav had a soft spot for Tilses? The revelation made his heart ache, but he harshly reminded himself his lieutenant was a far more better fit for the beautiful adventurer than he was. He may have fallen immediately for them when he saw them fight, but they were still half his age and full of life. Besides, he had a duty to fullfill. He wouldn't have been able to make them happy. No...it was better like that. Better to leave now before he hurt himself some more.

Zevlor left the forest quietly, trying to deny the wound in his heart as he made his way back to the Grove. He plunged himself back into work, but Tav couldn't leave his thoughts. He never had any chance. Of course he knew this, but to be faced with the reality of it felt like leaving Elturel again.

When Tilses came back almost an hour after his return, she acted as if Tav didn't confess their feelings to her.

"Nice walk?" Zevlor asked tartly, looking for blood.

"Commander?" she asked, hurt and confusion in her eyes.

Zevlor's anger left him, guilt needling his heart. He sighed wearily.

"Forgive me, Tilses. I am in a sour mood. I shouldn't have talked to you like that."

"Is something the matter?"

"I'm just tired," he lied with a smile.

The hours went on and night fell, yet Zevlor persisted in staying up to work, unwilling to be left alone with his thoughts.

"A–Am I disturbing you?" a familiar voice softly asked.

Zevlor lifted his gaze to see Tav in front of him, clutching their lantern as if the object might grow wings and fly away. They seemed very nervous.

"Are you well?" he asked with concern.

He watched Tav's throat work as they gulped.

"I–I wanted to–to see you today."

"Why?" he asked, rounding the stone table to face the adventurer.

He observed their hands shake.

"Because....because I– I like you! I've been ch–charmed by you ever since you fought off t–those goblins at the gate! I've been–"

"Are you kidding me?" he erupted.

Tav looked at him with wide eyes like a terrified deer.

"Did you recite your speech to everyone? Has everyone around here been blessed already to receive your affection? Or is that just reserved to Tilses and I?" he snarled, angry.

He would not see his lieutenant hurt by uncaring people. Enough of that. She had already suffered enough with the Descent!

"I heard you in the forest," he continued.

"Y-You–"

Tav stopped themselves, eyes filling with tears, hands shaking even more. It broke Zevlor to see them like this, his anger melting away at their obvious distress. He was regretting his words already.

"You could have just say no," they whispered as tears streamed down their cheeks. "Why did you have t–to be so cruel? I–I spent the whole a–afternoon with Tilses rehearsing!"

"Rehearsing?" Zevlor repeated, puzzled, mind finally working again.

Oh no. What had he done?

"Yes, rehearsing!" Tav burst out, anger giving them confidence. "A whole afternoon trying to formulate the admiration and attaction I had for a man I thought was good! And kind!"

"Ilmater's ashes," he murmured, despaired.

"I never knew you could be so cruel," they told him, hurt.

"I'm sorry," he started saying, but Tav chuckled bitterly.

"Now you're sorry?"

They turned away to leave, and time slowed down as Zevlor felt his heart pound in his chest. He had ruined it all. His thick head had ruined the thing he never thought possible in the first place. He couldn't bear to see them leave, to lose them forever.

He grabbed their wrist and pulled them flush against him, tilting their chin up to crash his lips against theirs. For the first few seconds, Tav resisted, but they quickly melted against him. They deepened the kiss as Zevlor wrapped his arms around them.

"By all the watching gods, I've been a blind fool," he croaked when their mouths finally separate. "Here I thought you were playing with Tilses' feelings!"

"What?" Tav blinked, all traces of anger gone from those stunning eyes.

"I heard you in the forest," he whispered, embarrassed. "I thought you were confessing to her."

"But she was helping me," they answered as if it was obviousness itself.

Zevlor chuckled fondly.

"You haven't chosen the sharpest sword in the forge," he told them softly, caressing their cheek.

"Maybe," they shrug, "but I love you nonetheless."

He kissed them again, smiling against their mouth.

[druizard]

What's Aislyn and Gale's epilogue situation (Waterdeep, adventurers, etc)? How does Aislyn feel about it?

Similar question for Beetle and Rolan - what's their life like post-game?

Ooh, thank you for these questions!! Both couples have a happy ending, so its always fun to talk and write about this subject!!

Aislyn-

If I am being completely honest, I had a lot of hesitations about moving to Waterdeep at first. I grew up deep in the heart of a forest, shut away from the world, until I left to attend bard college. But when he told me he would follow me anywhere I wanted to go, I had no idea where that would even be! After seeing all the amazing things Faerûn has to offer, how could I return to the Dales? Plus, with Gale's sweet mother living in Waterdeep, it only seemed right to make the City of Splendors our home. We needed a place to return to between our expeditions after all!

We only took about a month off to get me settled into the tower and relax before setting off to sniff out adventure! Living in Waterdeep, we didn't have to look very far to find leads on potential expeditions. He and I spent a few years exploring Faerûn before finally getting married and settling into a more domestic lifestyle. After so long on the road, it was actually really nice to have a comfortable place to call home again.

Gale and I were elated when Blackstaff hired him as a professor! I struggled to find work in the city for a while, but Gale eventually convinced the Academy board to hire me as their professor of Druidic studies. It has been so wonderful to see how learning about the natural weave helps young wizards to understand their own magic and how important it is that we protect the wilds.

Of course, it's hard to live in such an unnatural place as a city. But having a wizard for a husband means that I never have to miss the forest for long. On rough nights after work, Gale will conjure up a natural landscape in our home, just like he did the night he confessed his love to me. If time allows it, he will offer to teleport us to the Dales for the weekend or holiday to spend time with my family and explore the deep forest together. I couldn't be happier with my new life as Mrs. Dekarios. 💞

Beetle-

I don't remember the last time I was this comfortable. Ever since I can remember, my life has been moving from one place to another, being a target anywhere I go and living in squalor or no where at all. Baldur's Gate isn't free of racism and hatred, but it's nothing like Elturel.

Ramazith's Tower is... gargantuan, to say the least! There is plenty of room for Cal, Lia, Rolan and I to have our own space and then some. Many of the Elturian tieflings who ventured here with us have been staying in the tower as well! Most of them only stay until they find work and homes of their own, but the tower has plenty of room for them to stay as long as they need to. If I had my way, none of them would ever leave.

Rolan has been so accommodating and has allowed me to open an elemental temple on the ground floor of Ramazith's Tower! It is open to anyone looking to hone their Ki and align themselves with the forces of creation and the four elements. Part of why I do this is for my fallen mentor, Wren, who died after fleeing Elturel. We have an altar set up in her honor in the back of the temple and I am honored to carry on in her footsteps, guiding our fellow monks on their elemental journey.

As far as our relationship goes, Rolan and I are a stronger couple than ever before. We have been so busy since taking the tower and Sorcerous Sundries, but we always manage to find time for each other. Even if that's just sitting on the balcony and indulging ourselves in each other's bodies or laying in bed all night talking.

I always thought I would have to be the one to ask him but on one particularly beautiful night, above the clouds, overlooking the city on our balcony, he finally asked me to marry him... But that's a story for another time! 😉

Got a question for Aislyn or Beetle? Send us an ask!! I'll send you one back for your Tav (as long as you're not anon!)

[arxiel]

CRIMSOM THUNDER

Rolan x F!Tav

Chapter 1: A beginning from Elturel

Rating: Mature(?

Words Count: 5,683

Notes: Im so sorry if the english is BAD, originally i speak spanish, may have some errors.

AO3 LINK

CHAPTER INDEX

Or... read Bellow

Elturel was a beautiful city on the banks of the river Chionthar in the central western lands of Faerun swept away by a black orb that would transport them to Avernus in the midst of a blood war; swept away and lifted into the air by the river Styx anchored by spikes and chains of infernal iron, being dragged towards an inevitable doom, the surviving Elturians fought for their home and others decided to hide for their survival. Many people died in the devastation by bloodthirsty demons. With the city's leaders lost, Grand Duke Ravengard rallied the defence and made the Elturian high hall the centre of defence. 

After that war the Elturian Tieflings were exiled from their home, thanks to the newly formed wave of fear and prejudice.  Now the Tieflings will seek asylum in Baldurs gate, the largest city in the western region of Faerun. To do so they must undertake a long, tiring and dangerous journey, but that would not be the worst of it. 

Like leaves of wind the rumours fly, "Elturel has fallen" "Elturel was dragged to Avernus" "Elturel's Tieflings caused the disaster".  Enough to create panic across the lands of Faerun, it was not going to be easy to pass between towns with a group of surviving exiled Tieflings of Elturel, they nonetheless carried a burden that was not theirs to bear. 

In the group were a number of merchants and citizens who with a few coins planned to rebuild their lives in the great city of Baldurs Gate, others thought they had it made with a bit of luck and a few were exiled Hellriders who vowed to protect the Tieflings of Elturel to survive until they reached the city.  As the days passed a few raids on the group of Tieflings and the number of survivors slowly dwindled they did not stop until they finally arrived at the emerald grove where the kind Archi Druid Halsin opened his forest to the group of survivors during the summer with nine days to go before the start of autumn. 

The group grateful for the kindness from the Druid despite the goblin raid on the area decided to be helpful with the fishing and collecting of the food to be useful, but some groups didn't seem at all interested about helping as they recovered to continuing on the arduous journey to the big city. 

One of the surviving Tieflings group only limited himself to read some old magic books and a neatly folded letter while the others would do something helpful in the grove, such as entertaining or crafting helpful tools and weapons, just in case some goblin mercenaries tries to attack, but fortunately the grove was hidden. 

Or at least so they believed for Nineteen Nights.

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"Rolan! We'd all be grateful if you'd move a finger for us." Lia cames upset grabbing a broom handle to carefully lower the book the Tiefling was holding, he just looked at his sister with annoyance for interrupting his reading. "Your damn book won't go away if you do something productive. So… do something before they see you lazying around again. " As she finished her sentence she threw the broom handle at him so that he could catch it, annoyed he closed the book with one hand while holding the broom tightly.

"For once, I'm not ""lazying around"", since that damned day on Elturel I haven't had the time to resume my studies in magic, I can't present myself before the great Lorroakan without at least being up to the task, you and Cal should understand that." Rolan said rather disgusted. Lia just looked at him with folded arms and an arched eyebrow. Rolan just sighed heavily, putting his belongings away for later to do the chores in the grove, as if they needed a wizard's apprentice to do anything of real use.

To its surprise they did need help from a wizard for mundane tasks, fire control of old lady Okta's cauldron, helping the strange named Ethel move her wares as she worked on her potions and lotions, all that was left was to support the cloying couple, Bex and Danis who were carrying a heavy box full of assorted foodstuffs.

When the work was done the pair gave each other a cloying nose kiss. Such an action caused Rolan to unconsciously sigh and roll his eyes in discomfort; when the couple noticed his reaction, they laughed innocently.

"Don't be closed minded, you scare anyone who wants to come near to see your magic." Dannis said with a sly grin, his wife Bex nudged him with her elbow.

"I don't have time for nonsense like that, I have an even greater destiny in magic instead of wasting valuable time cuddling in the Hollow." Rolan said with a firm stance before retreating.

"You'll see in time, it's not something you'll control." Bex said in a high voice with a sing-song tone. The tiefling back just slapped his head at her comment.

Rolan was certainly uncomfortable that the pair of tieflings had made it their hobby to tease him for simply never bothering to have anyone in his life. Since Elturel has spent most of his life studying and caring for his brother and sister. He has had his conquests, but none lasted long enough to call it a relationship.

But it's something that simply doesn't matter to him and even more after the incident in his native city. The only thing he would really care about is to begin a wizarding apprenticeship in Baldurs's Gate along with his siblings.

When the golden hour arrived, free of any chores, Rolan walked to a somewhat remote wooded area near the beaches so as not to attract the attention of the group of refugees and the goblins neither.

The sight of the golden touches of the sunset makes him sigh nostalgically for his old home with his two brothers, his untouchable world that they enjoyed watching the same sunset with the sea touching the water making an incredible glow and his two brothers witnessing his progress in magic preventing him from hurting himself or others in the process. But now things had changed; Lorroakan's letter, the fall of Elturel, his stay with the refugees was something he had to adapt to if he was to arrive safely with his brothers at Baldurs gate. Determined, he opened his book that were in his bag.

"Well… I can do this. I must be worthy." He whispered to himself, setting his possessions aside to avoid any accidents. He closed his eyes in focus and positioned himself correctly before pronouncing the following words.

"Detono"

As he pronounced the words correctly he has successfully conjured the Thunderwave without ruffling a hair, without harming himself, he had perfected the Thunderwave.

He smiles, excited to put it to the test when the opportunity arises. Inspired, he dedicated the next few hours to practicing different spells without rest. This is his chance. Without interruptions, just him, just magic, just inspiration alone.

The sky suddenly cracked. He looked up at the sky in amazement, as a child he would be completely surprised but after seeing how Elturel fell, anything is possible. A burning Nautiloid of Mindflayers could be seen falling from the sky, heading for the coast. Picking up his stuff he rushed to the Grove, the place will be crawling with goblins, mercenaries, mindflayers. Best not to be seen or he would accidentally expose the shelter and endanger his siblings.

Once he arrived at the grove and checked that nobody had seen him, he met with his two brothers who looked worried, he was overprotective, it wasn't very natural that he would disappear out of the blue. But they left him be, knew perfectly well that Rolan would keep things to himself as usual no matter how worried they were about his wellbeing. 

Since he has taken care of them, he has been a person who prioritizes more for the safety of his brothers than for himself. 

Later that night he heard the gate open, a man with dark skin and short dreadlocks crossed and was assisted by the tieflings, he had never seen that man before but he had a certain resemblance to the great Duke of Ravengard that was seen in Elturel before the disaster. 

The thought of convincing his siblings to leave the Grove flashed through his mind, perhaps it would be the fishermen on the coast, or worse, an infected.  Anxiety overcame him, leaving him without sleep. 

The dawn had been restless, somebody else from the refugee group had seen the nautiloid fall in that night, some rumours were spread and they would be on the lookout. 

Rolan wagged his tail in anxiety as he began to take his nails to his sharp teeth, but the nails of a tiefling are much harder than the nails of any human. A few hours passed before Zevlor the exiled Hellrider and some tieflings hurried to the gate, some screams could be heard through the door. The man from that night had rushed to the gate as well- Panic for the safety of his family had overpowered him. 

"Hey, what's wrong Rolan? You have a new kind of paleness in your face." Cal sayed tying to calm him down. 

"We're leaving right now." Rolan quickly grabbed his possessions with worry and firmness in his hands. 

"Hold on, what do you mean, we're leaving?! They're fighting a small goblin raid out there, we should-" Lia was interrupted by Rolan instantly, who turned to stare at her in annoyance and made his way to the hollow of the grove. 

"No, I said we're leaving to Baldurs gate now!" Lia tried to stop him by the shoulders, but it was useless, he had more than made up his mind, even if he was scared deep down inside himself. He would go the other way again to ignore his sister.

As he made his way to the gate of the grove ignoring the pleas of his brothers, the gate opened letting in the group that the Archdruid was accompanying and a new group of five people, the young Aradin stormed towards Zevlor arguing why he would not let them in until the goblins had been killed. 

As the three brothers and the new group witnessed the heated arguing between Aradin and Zevlor

"There are children here, you fool." Zevlor said in complete annoyance, to which Aradin instantly replied that they were running away from them, he had let them capture the Archdruid of the Grove and The location of the Grove had been exposed, one thing was clear; this place is no longer safe. 

One of the group had approached to intervene in the dispute, at first glance she looked like a homeless woman with long wavy hair covering part of her face with hair, it was hard to judge her race, she tried to interrupt the discussion, Aradin gave her a little push making it clear that she was only in the way, her companions just looked on expectantly and Zevlor threw a punch at Aradin knocking him out. 

"See? we're safe, we should- " Lia was interrupted again by Rolan's stubbornness, who returned to the hollow to fetch his brothers' belongings.  In an act of desperation, Lia grabbed Rolan's tail, making him even angrier. 

"You know damn well that if there's one goblin there are hundreds more right?! and that possibly the ones they just let in are part of the crew of that nautiloid from last night!" He shouted in annoyance. 

"I heard from Zevlor himself they just saved us from those goblins, even the man who came last night helped, if a horde comes they we can kick them out, for our people." Rolan laughed sarcastically at Lia's comment.  "Please, speak calmly, you are making a scene." Lia and Rolan gave Cal a murderous glance, and he simply raised his arms in surrender. 

However, such a scene already had an audience, those people who defended the entrance to the grove had already listened with close attention to that discussion. 

  "By the gods, you can't be serious, we don't even know these people!" Rolan was beginning to lose his patience, Lia's stubborn attitude overwhelmed him. "That doesn't matter." She replyed, absolutely decided. 

"Of course it does. You would choose strangers over us!" Cal began to scratch his head in anxiety about the situation. Rolan seemed unwilling to change his mind.

"Can we stop shouting? No?" Cal said in a last-ditch attempt to get his brothers to stop arguing.  The woman stepped forward in an attempt to help, her companions tried to restrain her in an attempt to keep her out of other people's arguments, but failed. 

"Hells, we can't just leave, they're kin." Lia sounded tired of the arguing as her tone adapted to a pleading sound. 

"I'll not gamble our lives, our future, for people who are as good as dead. - We must leave for Baldurs gate - at once." Lia tightened her fist at the sound of her brother's still standing firm on the idea. 

"Can we all just take a moment, please?" Cal asked pleadingly again. 

"What's the point in blades and spells if we don't bloody use them? We should stay.  These people aren't fighters. We can help." Lia exploded again, Rolan rolled his eyes at his sister's immature attitude. "Or yell louder. That's fine too." Cal added tiredly. 

  "You should all stay, a single blade could make a difference, there's no place for cowering." Said the woman giving a judging look to the annoyed Tiefling. Lia grinned at her comment, it was clearly such a hint that he is a coward. 

"You are responsible for your decision, but I will stay, this is the right thing to do and damn well you know it." Lia had straightened up, showing determination in her words, that woman had inspired her. 

"She's right, Rolan. We're better than this." Said Cal with his arm on his sister's, showing complicity. 

 Rolan stepped back in resignation, he could never leave his brothers behind. 

"Zurgan... fine. I'll stay too. Lest you end up with your throats slit by a Goblin's blade. If we survive, it'll make for a good story I suppose..." He added with discomfort and a sarcastic tone at the end, his brothers smiled and made their way to the training area, without first waving goodbye to their saviour. 

The Tiefling annoyed, leaned against the wall displaying pure anxiety with his tail wagging and impatiently shaking his leg. His glance stopped on the woman who was watching him as if she was his entertainment.  Her curious nature made him more impatient. 

"What? what you want? didn't you have enough?" Rolan said in a poisonous tone, the woman blinked, shaking her head, her concentration seemingly broken. 

"Nothing... I was just leaving." She responded with a lowered gaze, the Tiefling only clicked his tongue before retreating. 

"Darling, you really are a bad courter." She turned to give the pale elf a little smack, while the human mage just laughs and the two women; a half elf and a Githyanki just cover their heads in disapproval. 

As the party moved on in their own asking questions of the rest of the Tieflings, the refugees seemed blessed with their presence, despite being complete strangers and quite strange all to one side none of the races present seemed frightened or concerned by their presence, and that disconcerted Rolan who seemed more alert to the intentions of that group. 

With the threatened goblin horde and the disappearing of the Archdruid Halsin the druids of the Grove have started the ritual of the thorns and the refugees would have to leave, but to leave now with the goblin threat they would be doomed to death, only a miracle could help them. 

As day progressed, the party of outsiders were spread out in the grove, the githyanki waited for the group leaning against the wall, the half-elf with the hair pulled back was conversing with the refugees with the human wizard and the female saviour was apparently playing the lute with the refugee bard; Alfira. 

The three brothers were walking around the grove without interruption to the ritual, Rolan still looked annoyed at the decision, wondering what he could do to protect his brothers considering that the refugees who really know how to fight are only a handful, including himself. He's not particularly weak he knows, but he specializes in magic, not weapons like Zevlor or archery like Lakrissa. And his brothers barely started their training before Elturel fell. Both only know the essentials. 

An air of genuine anguish overwhelms him until he hears the sound of a second lute followed by Alfira voice, his glance went to that side, she was working on that song since her teacher died in the raid on the group. 

It seemed that the woman had helped perfect her farewell song. 

As the song ended; shouts and disturbances rang out from below, the ritual had stopped and the druid idol was no longer there, as druids could be seen dragging Arabella, one of the refugee girls, by the arm. These mysterious party regrouped and passed through the druids. 

The brothers ran to ask some questions of the girl's parents. 

"What happened?" Cal asked the worried mother. 

"They took Arabella away... She... tried to stole that druids idol." said the mother terrified of what the Druids would do to her after stealing something so valuable. 

Lia walked straight towards the druids, but Rolan stopped her by grabbing her arm. "I allowed us to stay to help with the horde, don't play with my patience." Rolan couldn't allow more problems with the druids.

It was not long before the girl came running back for her family, looking relieved, but completely frightened by what happened, mentioning that the saviour woman had saved her from a lethal bite from Kagha's snake. Cal and Lia looked at their brother knowingly. 

"I told you they are the good ones." Lia said with a proud smile. "Ugh, what a waste of time, playing hero when there's a whole horde of goblins coming to slit our throats." Rolan replyed her sister comment in a sour tone. 

"Don't be grumpy Rolan. We'll get to the city soon." The Tiefling rolled his eyes in disappointment when his brother said that words. 

"I am not grumpy." Rolan said with his arms folded. 

"The scowld on your face would frighten a troll."  When Cal said it, Lia laughed softly. 

"Heh. You're an idiot." Rolan smiled earlier as he told his brother, as the party left the druid compound thaht ritual restarted again, the Tieflings were relieved to see the girl safe, but the concern again arose as they saw that the ritual was still going on, they would be more than doomed for the insolence. 

The group approached the girl's family who are grateful for saving her before approaching again the three Tiefling brothers. 

"Tell me you have a plan, you look like you have one." Lia looked as excited as a child, Rolan just rolled his eyes and folded his arms keeping the same defensive look on his face. 

"Well since you're all too stubborn to die - AUCH!" The woman would have elbowed him hard enough to shut him up, a chuckle came from the pale elf, he seemed enjoying teasing that woman. 

"Forgive us for the attitude of our companion who has the same politeness as a sick goblin." The pale elf stepped forward aggressively at the comment, the woman opposed the two of them, the difference in height was obvious, but not abysmal either. He could easily pass over her with no trouble, she didn't look strong at all. 

"I've had enough! You should have been stuck on that rock, sparkles." said the pale Elf, hissing. 

"Gale, Astarion, stop acting like such children, you're being so ridiculous! " Added the half-Elf with the slicked back hair. The three Tiefling brothers' sights crossed, the situation was awkward. 

"Heh, what a team... we're screwed..." It crossed Rolan's mind, better pray to the gods, even if he's not the praying type.

"Thanks Shadowheart." added the woman before turning to the three brothers again. 

"Well have a little plan, we discovered that something else is being planned by Kagha. We'll go investigate in the swamps, that's all we have." Said the woman with a pensive glance down. 

In her mind it would sound like a decent plan, but it's only speculation, it doesn't guarantee there's anything of use and it would only waste valuable time and it's something that one of the Tieflings resents. 

  "What a mediocre plan, we should have left by now. Damnation! Instead we're just sitting here - practically begging to be attacked. Staying is a mistake." Rolan said in annoyance, his brothers looked down in disappointment at his conduct. 

"You're doing the right thing. The others need help." Cal and Lia's eyes twinkled at the woman's response, seemingly unafraid of her explosive brother. 

"And what about us? There's every chance we've doomed ourselves by helping these people. We will end up being exposed for the rite is complete and under the feet of the dirty goblins. This place is lost." Rolan straightened his posture at her, at the height difference she raised her gaze, looking annoyed, the slight gleam in her eyes intensified. 

"There's a high chance you'll die on the road, you don't look like you know the concept of surviving in the wilderness." At the comment Astarion covered his mouth in astonishment. 

"Uhhh! Low blow, you have no mercy little pumpkin, ha!" Gale looked at Astarion with disappointment, but he didn't seem upset that his companion had put the grumpy Tiefling in his place. 

Rolan looked around speechless, she had a good point, but he doesn't want to admit it, even if he is the new Lorroakan apprentice with great potential, he is still an apprentice and with the goblins lurking around they will probably die in the attempt to cross the mountain, being the only place where there are no goblins. 

With a heavily sighed he relaxed his stance, there would be nothing more to say and his proud would not allow him to apologise in public, limiting himself to just looking at her, she looked regretful for her own comment because of her nervous stance looking at the ground. 

  "Can we take the day?  I'm getting tired of all this arguing and I feel something soft and sticky inside my boot." Shadowheart mentioned to pass the conversation, the group went on their way. The woman would take one last look at the three brothers before leaving to the camp. 

Rolan's eye would twitch from the stress caused, for him it is an absolute nuisance to lose in the discussions, and more than a total stranger would humiliate him in such a way.

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The night had come, the stars shone almost as brightly as the moon, crickets chirped, fireflies fluttered in the distance, some Tieflings made sure to watch the grove for goblin ambushes while the others rested. 

Rolan again was reading his book calmly with the help of a dim light he had cast with his magic so as not to attract attention; he was in his comfort zone, silence. 

His siblings were asleep and he watched for possible ambushes from afar, but it seemed to be a peaceful night.

In a few moments he would hear footsteps coming towards him, instantly snapping him out of his lecture from his book, it was that woman, he looked her up and down disconcerted, shouldn't she be in her camp with her companions? 

"I was looking for Astarion... He disappeared from the camp when I woke up to get something to drink." said the woman worried about her companion, since they met he didn't usually go for night walks, or at least not that she knew of.  

Looking at her he would notice that her messy hair was still hiding part of her gaze. It would get on his nerves:

""that woman has never known a hairbrush in her life"". It would cross his mind. 

"Look for whatever you want, I'm the only one here." mentioned Rolan looking away to sit down again. Silently she, would look out over the quiet evening view without turning away from the area where the tiefling had decided to hang out. 

It was clear that the fact that his companion had left would not be the only excuse she would have to talk to him. Luckily for her, he is polite after all. With a heavy sigh Rolan made an inviting gesture to take a seat, she would nod before sitting on the floor. 

She seemed slightly regretful for their recent behaviours in the Grove. The proud side of the Tiefling prevented him from issuing any apologies from his side, even if he had been selfish. 

"Maybe we have started on the wrong foot, I didn't mean to sound rude when I said that you might die on the road, I don't know why you are so anxious to leave, but..." Rolan interrupted her speech when he raised a finger to speak. 

"Please. I can handle myself if I really want to leave, it's others that are the issue. But I could never leave Lia behind, as irksome as she may be, even Cal would never do it.  If only she understood. The longer we wait, the longer the horrors of the wilds imperil us." At the words of Rolan, the woman shrugged her shoulders. 

"Nature isn't all bad, sometimes the city is most dangerous." Rolan would give her a sarcastic little chuckle at her opinion. 

"What? The dangers of overpriced taverns and muddy streets? I think i'll take that risk - Lorroakan awaits me to start of my real apprenticeship." The woman blinked in bewilderment at his words, not at his absurd perception of danger in the city. But she know that name, more than she want. She would touch her forehead and feign a false surprise to hide the anger that was growing inside her.  

"His name is known far and wide, I see." Rolan would arch his eyebrow. Some mocked, others didn't know who he is, but the woman's reaction would make him feel more confident to speak. 

"I've admired him for years. Never dreamed he'd answer my letter. But I've worked to the bone for this. Few can match me - in either magic or talent, the two of us could make a huge renown around the coast of the sword you'll see." A low giggle sounded from the woman, it did not seem to be mocking, it felt like a warm giggle she wouldn't have expected such a dreamy tone from someone who only seemed annoyed and anxious. She didn't want to tease him with personal stories, after all, they didn't know each other and the last thing she would want to do was surround him with stories that wouldn't interest him. 

Rolan softened his stance at the sound of her giggle, he never spoke of this with anyone except his brothers, his tail started to wag without even realising it.  

"Do you know if Baldurs gate even welcome tieflings?" Rolan stared up at the sky at her question, trying to remember to give a proper answer. 

"More than most. A few strangers may stare at us and keep their daggers sheathed." He mentioned with a serious look before turning his glance to her again. 

"But I'll be warmly received, arriving there, in years to come, you will gloat of this meeting - I can assure you. When we meet again in the city, my friend." Rolan tilted his gaze respectfully at her.  "Yvainne" She replied with a comfortable smile, their conversation seemed to be enjoyable. It was good to know that he could trust her a little more. Unfortunately their time together must end in time to rest and get on with their tasks in the morning. 

"Well, Yvainne, its easy to speak with you, rather than my brother and sister." Rolan smiled before turning his glance on her, the weak light shining on a part of Yvainne's eye showing a glow like a sunset. A very unusual eye colour and would have a subtle sheen that some races would have.

Both separated their ways to go to rest in their camp.

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A few days passed since their first peaceful conversation, that group has not yet set one foot in the grove would be partly a relief to the refugees; it would mean that they set their plans in motion. If they succeed the Tieflings can gain time for a safe journey to Baldurs Gate. 

A worried air started to fill Rolan, if they failed he would have to have a second plan, a second plan that would involve practising harder to protect his brother and sister from any danger. 

Decided, he would practice his magic at any news, it may be tired and painful failing spells, but it would be worth it. Every progress is unique. After all, he had the confidence to make it.

The gates of the grove creaked to open once more, the Tiefling sighed in relief when he saw the group he had promised to give time, although the Archdruid had not come with them. Soaked in blood and mud they came with one more member; a rather burly and tall Tiefling. She didn't look to be part of the refugees. But it would look familiar, he saw her in Elturel, fighting. 

  "Awesome! Here must be the infernal mechanic. - Let's go soldier." At once the Tiefling trotted into the grove, the others in the group would follow her at a leisurely pace.  

Lia and Cal rushed excitedly to their brother. 

"Did you see it, Rolan? we listened that she brought evidence that there are shadow druids in the grove, they'll stop Kagha." Rolan froze in his tracks, that druid is not an opponent they can face so easily, she is the second in command for a reason, there's is no denying that the party looks unique for these tasks, but Tav doesn't seem to be strong enough to face someone like Kagha and the other druids. 

"That woman is just looking to be killed" Rolan set out to find them to give them the warning, having heard the burly Tiefling earlier he can guess where they would be. 

When Rolan arrived he found Dammon the blacksmith pressing close his ear to the Tiefling's chest.  

"What in the hells?" He would whispered, but Yvainne had heard him, cautiously she approached the confused Tiefling to explain their situation. 

"I suppose you've got a magnetism with weirdos." Said Rolan thoughtlessly keeping his eyes on the pair of Tieflings, Dammon seems to like Karlach a little too much, a certain comfort could be noticed between them, he seemed to be slightly blushing even. 

"I suppose... there you are." She gave Rolan a gentle tap on the side, a usual reaction he would have been upset, but he didn't seemed to pay attention to her touch and would only give a slight smile at her joke. 

But he didn't come to have a casual conversation with her, instead, wising up, he kept a firm stance. 

"You should be careful facing Kagha, the druids will come for you, you can call Zevlor to help you with the fight or I'll...." Yvainne would let out a small giggle. - "Worried?" Rolan stepped back when he heard her question. 

  "If you die down there, who will deal with the Goblins? I strongly doubt the battalion of childs." Rolan mentioned in a sarcastic tone. 

"Although I don't think you would need to do much, my Thunderwave will make quick work of any goblin, just you wait." He snapped his fingers as he said it, letting some lightning sparks. Yvainne would wave her head with a smile on her face.

"Well... now we've seen who will be the saviour of the grove." Rolan let out a disgusted blow at her words, his face slightly turned away from her, once again his tail wagged, She wasn't a Tiefling so she wouldn't know the meaning of that body language, but she would also notice it in Karlach and Dammon. 

"Heh, that's a "hero's" job, not mine." Yvainne arched his eyebrow at Rolan's sassy reply, he would have walked away leaving her alone. 

Such warning was strange coming from him, probably he was worried about his own that adventurers would have a better chance to finish with the goblins. But somehow in her head the thought crossed his mind that it might not be the only thing and he was really worried about her well being, after all, heroes didn't look skinny and short with a depressing look on their faces.  For Yvainne this would be a mystery which couldn't be solved quickly although his expression with his tail maybe, just maybe it indicates something positive, comparing it to the tails of Dammon and Karlach.

But everything depends on the success of her plans, if any of them make it through alive and meet again on their journey to the city. 

The party made their way to the druidic base to face Kagha, a fight which would not be easy, however they would manage to defeat those evil shadow druids and the Druidess would stand judgment until the Arch Druid Halsin arrived. 

Even with bruises and scratches they would have a successful day, she gave enough time for the refugees to prepare for their journey once the goblin camp was destroyed.  And they should rest, their day had been heavy enough for the group to talk, and they would have the important mission to go to the goblin camp to handle them. 

He would feel grateful in a way that they would seem to be on their side. 

If everything went well enough, they might soon be on their way to Baldur's gate. 

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