#Tal'Dorei Reborn

[burr-ell]

sometimes i think about this and have to go repeatedly punch a brick wall

[circuslollipop]

Father Larylai, just a normal, innocent priest whom I'm sure has no ulterior motives...

For the Tourist's Guide to Tal'Dorei project by @artists-guild-of-exandria!

[tiefbeef]

Can we all take a moment to appreciate the dream sequence of Scanlan’s? From the Tal’Dorei Reborn inspired group portrait to the troll dick, sex toys, wanted poster, purple flute and framed image of a chair on display, it’s just so good!

[jarhara]

I got the Tal'Dorei reborn Campaign book a while ago and started running a small d&d group with it. I also have the Critical Role cook book and believe me, there where sessions where my party asked me what local food was like or what was sold at the market and I ended up referencing the cook book more then the rule book!

[nilesdaughter]

You Great Unfinished Symphony

Fandom: Critical Role Characters: Percy De Rolo, Vex'ahlia, Gwendolyn De Rolo, Pike Trickfoot Pairing: Perc'ahlia Word Count: 781 Note: This... is not my usual style, and I am both excited and nervous to be sharing this for @percahliaweek.

[Also found on A03.]

X-X-X-X-X

“Oh.”

It’s such a soft sound, he almost misses it.

Percival looks to Vex’ahlia, his gaze searching, questioning. “Is something wrong, dear?”

“I… believe we need to call the midwife, darling,” she says in a breathless tone, her dark eyes flicking up to meet his blue ones.

He stands with such celerity that his chair nearly topples to the floor behind him. “Pike, as well?” he asks.

“Yes, Pike, as well.”

The master suite of Whitestone Castle becomes a flurry of activity as Lady De Rolo is carefully transferred from the study to the bedroom and helped out of her tea gown. She is then arranged in the bed, towels and hot water prepared for the delivery. Lord De Rolo is at her side the whole while, murmuring affections and running his fingers through her hair as they wait for the contractions to begin in earnest. If nothing else, this is their fourth time in this particular situation and they like to think that they are used to it; Percy knows that Vex finds comfort in holding his hand, Vex knows the best position to lay in so that her contractions do not hurt quite as much. Pike, bless her, acts as the midwife’s assistant, just as she has for all the other births, monitoring her dear friend and passing over fresh towels as needed, reheating the water when it begins to cool.

This one takes longer, despite coming after four other children. (Four perfect children that Percy and Vex marvel over every single day.) It lasts throughout the night, the stars and the moons bearing witness to the new addition to the De Rolo family.

As the sun crests over the Alabaster Sierras, Vex lets out the loudest cry she’s released during the entire process, her hand squeezing tight around her husband’s, seeking solace in his touch. (If he feels as if she might just tear off his hand, he has the sense to not say a word about it.)

In the next breath, the new baby wails.

The midwife quickly passes the child (“A girl, my lady!”) over to Pike so that the gnomish cleric can clean her up. Percy notices, vaguely, that the child seems unusually red, but his attention returns to Vex as she gives his hand another–softer–squeeze.

“I believe that means we outnumber you, darling,” she says, amusement and mischief twinkling in her eyes even as exhaustion pulls at the rest of her features.

He laughs, kisses her knuckles. “I believe it does, dear heart.”

When Pike returns to the bed with their new daughter, washed and swaddled, it becomes much more apparent why he had seen so much red. Poking out of the dark curls on her head (she’ll certainly be taking after her mother, then, in that regard) are four tiny horn nubs.

Percy feels a wave of guilt wash over him, because he knows, he knows these are the ramifications for decisions he made nearly two decades ago.

Vex, however, does not react negatively to the revelation that she has given birth to a tiefling. She simply accepts the baby into her arms, cooing at her just as she has for all the others, whispering soft words about how she’s perfect and loved and welcome to the world, darling.

“This would explain why I seemed to be running a fever so often,” Vex then comments idly, as casual as if she were relaying her observations from a walk in the Parchwood.

That startles a laugh out of Percy and her warmth, her acceptance, keeps him from spiraling too far down. “I suppose it does.”

“You should hold her, too, darling,” she says, already lifting the bundle up to him.

He reaches down, moving in to cradle her in his arms, pulling her close to his chest. She is unexpected but she is theirs, a testament to the city–the lives–they have built together. She is so warm and small and he never wants to let her go. She begins fussing and, with practiced ease, he slowly walks circles around the bedroom, rocking her, making little shh, shh, shh noises. As he does so, he pauses at the window and looks down into the courtyard, watching as the last bit of scaffolding is finally taken down from around the clock tower, which had been finished but a week ago. (Well, ‘finished’ is a subjective word; he already has plans for adjustments and additions, small ways he can improve upon the parts of the tower that had been completed years prior.) With his new daughter in his arms and his Heart completed, he finds he continues ever-onward to a brighter, happier future.

[tathracyn]

I'm having wizardly thoughts

[made-some-ki-points]

Character Ideas Day 18: Tragedy Bard

Years ago, your loved one was killed in a conflict nearly forgotten by the masses, whether it was pushed under the rug by the responsible powers at be, or simply a minor casualty lost in the story of a major event. Ever since, you’ve stayed in the place they died, serenading passing travelers to remind them of your loved one’s story in desperate hope to keep memory of their tragedy alive. Usually, all they do is apologize, but this most recent group of adventurers asked you to come with them, to see how they can help. And that’s an offer you could never refuse.

The younger sibling to a world famous adventurer who died in an act of heroism, you’ve lived your life in the shadow of their deeds, always compared to the good that they did in life. But it always bothered you. They were dead, lost to you forever, and in an act of refusal to let you or your family’s grief be erased just because your sibling was a hero, you dedicate your craft to hymns of grief and loss instead of praises of their deeds, hoping to memorialize the person you lost rather than the hero the world gained.

Recently, you received news that your child flunked out of the prestigious bardic academy you once attended yourself, and subsequently went on the run for fear of your reaction. After some reflection, you learned there was a beauty in failure, and have set out to find your child. Perhaps you can show them not only that you forgive them, but there is a path they can take even with their new situation.

You work among a stalwart group of grave clerics as the dedicated eulogizer for those buried in their grounds unidentified, or without loved ones who come to speak for them. You’re largely desensitized to such grim work, but one day, an unidentified body comes to the grounds that just… Bothers you. Perhaps you think you recognize the face, or the wounds they suffered, perhaps the killing was more brutal than you could ever imagine, or perhaps there’s a magical force calling you, demanding you learn more about this unknown body. So you set off, with the support of the clerics, to get the answers the deceased demands, and follow them wherever they may lead.

Decades ago, you were married off to a war like and volatile leader, and though you feared for your life, you made it your mission to survive this new life, and see if the kingdom could survive it with you. Though your partner was never aggressive toward you, power made them eager to attack other lands, but you somehow managed one day to get through to them. It was as if your way with words could point out the exact magnitude of the destruction a war would bring in a way no others could. Now, years after the death of your spouse with your child a steady presence on the throne, you set off to use your gift in a new way, and maybe find out who you are outside of "spouse of a great and terrible leader."

You used to work in the tower of a prominent wizard, whose magical creations filled so many with wonder. You were there too when the unveiling of a new spell went horribly wrong, killing many in the area, and mortally wounding you. Many say it was a fluke, a tragic downfall of a promising mind, but you were behind closed doors. You heard the warnings they ignored, experts they pushed off and signs they didn't want to see. You know this is not a tale of tragedy, it is a tale of hubris. So you set off to show as many as you can the truth, and perhaps find a way to prove what the wizard wanted was impossible, your magic not coming from the sharpness of mind, but from the widespread nature of the tragedy arrogance can cause.

As a child, you lived in an incredibly haunted house, but that never bothered you. You made friends with the ghosts, and loved to listen to their tales, no matter how macabre. As you grew, though, you realized the tales held a level of magical power, one you sought to use as your magical ability grew. Eventually, as you left home for a bardic college, your friends wished you luck, and mentioned they hoped you'd gain more stories from the deceased to spread and use. That's exactly what you hope to do.

When a close friend of yours came down with a curse that sets to change their life forever (and not for the better), their family abandoned them in shame, and they were left with no one to turn to but you. Empathetic to their plight, you became their primary caretaker, and bore witness to the horrors they experienced at the hands of the curse and of the town that refused to see its bearer as a victim. One day, your friend wakes from a nightmare to say another has come down with their curse, another who needs your guidance and help, so you set off to find them, armed with the magic you learned from many years of witnessing pain to help you find another victim of the plight you know better than most.

You dropped out of a wizarding academy not too long ago, after a divination lesson ended in horror thanks to a story you told of a classmate's very grim future. You weren't lying, you insist, but the other student's dramatic reaction meant you had to leave the hall in shame. As you spitefully learned how to make the "unreasonably sad" into viable magic, a former classmate contacts you in a panic, saying they saw the death of a classmate in a similar manner in their divination lessons, leading to speculation of an event coming soon that may kill many at that school. So you set off to learn more, and perhaps become the hero of the school that once told you your grim nature had no place in it.

After a major historical battle, you found a lost animal companion at your door, scared and injured in the chaos. You took it in, nursing it back to health before you learned its companion, a legendary hero of the land, had been killed. Now, it seems to have taken to you, and you can't say no to spreading the story of its fallen friend, which seems to bring it some sort of joy. You've been traveling around and doing this for a while now, but when your new companion sees the start of what looks like an adventuring party, it gets very excited and encourages you to approach them. And you've never quite been able to say no to that little creature.

[ravendruid]

We're going on an adventure.

[featherbow]

[fandomrandombookthing]

I'm legit on episode 49... mehhhhhh HELP

Can we please talk about Vax’s page in the Tal’Dorei Reborn campaign setting? Especially this paragraph:

“The Champion of Ravens is not Vax’ildan, though Vax resides within him”?? I mean didn’t the Dalen’s Closet One-Shot crush my heart enough? Now we have like canonical confirmation, that he’s too changed to be just Vax’ildan anymore. It’s not enough that Liam O’Brien made me read The Jaunt by Stephen King (if you haven’t go read it, Liam said in a Talks episode that that is what he thinks happened to Vax after he said goodbye and it crushed my soul), now Matthew Mercer has to write it our for me in black and white in the canon 20 years after campaign setting. Because sure, it makes sense and it’s fitting but it also means that at the end, when the Champion of Ravens comes to shepard the souls of his friends beyond the veil of the mortal world, it won’t really be Vax. Vax is lost, Vax is forever changed and nothing ever will bring him back. Excuse me while I go cry in a corner about Vax again.

[utilitycaster]

The Ashari Crisis Orb alert system, named by Keyleth in an unwittingly prescient moment,

[circuslollipop]

Ixrattu Khar, infamous tiefling vampire cultist of the Remnants, for the Tourist's Guide to Tal'Dorei project by @artists-guild-of-exandria 🩸

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting Reborn - Zephrah by Kent Davis

[raptorix]

Link to OP’s Mother’s Day fanart that works on desktop. 

happy father's day

mother's day

[captainsparklefingers]

I really hope at some point down the road in The Legend of Vox Machina, the whole story of the Matron is touched upon a little bit more. How she was mortal, how she ascended and took down the previous god of death and erased her old name and his from history.

I mean if we're gonna get to the Whispered One it'll need to happen anyway, but...

But I just want that scene. Her and Vax, in her domain, the threads of fate, everything tinted red...and she takes off the mask to reveal the sad, lonely, powerful woman underneath. I just really want to see that.

It's Vax, seeing what his future is going to be. The lonely Champion of Ravens, god of the dead and the passage of souls, once mortal, forever changed and detached from the life they knew and the ones they loved.

[thedragonagelesbian]

the real question is: can i convince you all that isabela is secretly an oath of the open seas paladin?