#ah. that's why minthara is Like That

[lazylittledragon]

hi i'm unw el l

[elgarabelas]

After such a long break from drawing anything i present u yet another wip :)

[sorcerous-caress]

could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Minsc Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Minsc is the main speaker/subject or I think Minsc's reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Minsc_Astarion_UpperTracks]

Minsc: Oh, I do not know, Boo. If you buried the nuts here before we were stone, I am thinking they might have gone bad.

Astarion: Minsc! Enough! The hamster isn’t saying a damn thing and you know it.

Minsc: Well, Astarion. Boo is of good breeding, and so only speaks when he has something nice to say. {Devnote: Haughty, offended, ‘Well, I never’}

Minsc: Perhaps this is why he has never seen fit to speak to you.

Astarion: How delightfully vicious. I’m beginning to like the hamster.

[PB_Minsc_Astarion_EasternDocks]

Minsc: ASTARION! FISH! ASTARION! {Devnote: Struck by a brilliant idea, so excited he cannot use his words}

Astarion: Minsc, please - slow down. Use your words.

Minsc: Minsc has thought how you might be a more virtuous vampire - feast on fish instead. They are made of naught but neck! {Devnote: Delighted with himself, as if it’s a matter he’s been mulling over for some time. If he must travel with ‘bad’ people, he will try to make them ‘better’}

Astarion: It’s a sweet thought, but fish just doesn’t have the flavour of full-blooded red meat.

Minsc: No, you do not ‘agree’, Boo. I told you you have been spending far too much time around the pale one… {Devnote: Hushed, style of a whispered argument that’s been had before, trailing off to be discussed later. Minsc is worried that his hamster is being corrupted} 

[PB_Minsc_Astarion_BasiliskGate]

Minsc: Ah, but it is a fine thing to walk with friends beneath the warming sun! {Devnote: just spontaneously happy}

Astarion: 'Friends' might be a stretch, but otherwise - yes, I fully agree!

Minsc: You might have your cloudy locks to keep the heat off your head, but do not forget that Minsc has Boo! We will be like twins, eh?

Astarion: We will? Gods - two hundred years and I've never missed seeing my reflection more.

[PB_Minsc_Gale_HouseOfHope]

Minsc: Gale! You will perhaps be able to explain where Boo has not - what exactly is the difference between a devil and a demon?

Gale: A fascinating question, one that boils down to which criteria we choose to apply. Are we speaking about the physiological? Theological? Etymological? {Devnote: in teacher mode - up for an in-depth, intellectual discussion}

Minsc: Eh. Just how-to-kill…-ical. {Devnote: Nonplussed, echoing gale’s ending every word with ‘ical’}

Gale: Oh. Then for your purposes, they are exactly the same. {Devnote: Disappointed}

[PB_Minsc_Gale_ROM_Act3]

Minsc: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt, with all of this stringy hair in your face.

Gale: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed that was a custom of some sort. {Devnote: Curious, referring to Minsc’s origins}

Minsc: Oh, no! Most warriors of Rashmen wear long battle-braids, weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp?

Gale: Thank you, but I’m more wizard than warrior. I’m not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting. {Devnote: very politely declining}

[PB_Minsc_Shadowheart_ROM_Act3_Selune]

Minsc: Shadowheart. I saw you pluck Boo from the ground, when you thought no one was watching. {Devnote: Had been mulling this, now broaching it}

Minsc: It pleases you, to hold him? And you have truly cleansed yourself of Shar? {Devnote: Suspicious, but giving the benefit of the doubt}

Shadowheart: I suppose you're right. On both counts. {Devnote: Arc: SH has turned from Shar, got to hold hamster}

Minsc: HMMMMMMMM. Then for one day only, you may carry him in your pocket. So long as it is clean. Padded. Well-aired. {devnote: Dubious but willing to extend this great honor to her against his better judgement. Listing off Boo's rider}

Minsc: And full of nuts! {Devnote: Rushing in the most important condition of all}

[PB_Minsc_Gale_SorcerousSundries]

Minsc: Minsc has never trusted places such as this. Too much of a wizard's power can be simply packaged and picked up. {Devnote: Grumbling as we make our way through the shelves at Sorcerous Sundries}

Minsc: Well, picked up by all but Minsc. When he touches the many delicate little jars, oh how the wizards shout and stare! {Devnote: revealing that his objection to Sorcerous Sundries is not in fact a philosophical belief that wizards have too much power - they just make him feel stupid and awkward when he pokes in their things}

Gale: Fear not, Minsc. You have a wizard at your side who positively encourages such curiosity. You'll fit right in. {Devnote: Reassuring}

Minsc: Obliged, wizard. Should we find our way to a weaponsmith, Minsc will rough you up a little - so that you too can fit in. {Devnote: Warm, comradely - would genuinely be doing Gale a favor}

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 2

~~~

part 1

~~~

Author’ Note: For one, I’m still on my first play-through and this will definitely stray from canon, but hopefully some things will give a nod to some of the actual events in the game. (Also there will be no Wyll or Minthara because I haven’t gotten to know them for…reasons 👀)

(As for when this takes place, I’m thinking around late act 1, early act 2-ish)

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do. And the question is, how will you deal with it?

~~~

“Have you been crying, Tav?”

Fuck. You should’ve known Karlach would notice. “Yes,” you admit, knowing it’s no use lying. “Nightmare,” you add, because it’s not entirely untrue.

“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it.” The hand Karlach places on your shoulder feels reassuring. Supportive without a speck of judgement. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it, you know.”

You smile, because you don’t know what you have done to deserve such a great friend like her. “Be careful,” you laugh, “otherwise I might take you up on that offer.” Gods knows you’re in need of someone to confide in. It’s just that you’re not a hundred percent sure she’s not one of Astarion’s other conquests.

“My tent is always open for you, Tav. I hope you know that.” Karlach’s soft smile quirks into a grin as her eyes shift to look at something over your shoulder. “Oh, hi, Fangs. Trying to sneak up on Tav, are you?”

“And a good morning to you too, Karlach.” You don’t need to see him to know that he’s rolling his eyes. “Of course not, I just did not want to break up what looked like an intimate moment.”

Strange. Underneath the snark, Astarion almost sounds… jealous. That doesn’t make the least bit sense, so you brush the notion away.

“Nothing intimate about it,” you press out. “Just Karlach being a good friend.” One deep breath, and then you turn around to face him. It takes all of your determination, but you make sure to keep a neutral expression. Except you catch his eyes narrowing, and too late you realise that he, too, notices the small but telling signs of the tears you shed not even an hour ago. Unlike Karlach, he keeps his thoughts to himself, because of course he does. You’re not even sure why you’re not surprised, but deep down you knew he wouldn’t acknowledge it.

You momentarily stop breathing when the truth slams into you like a blow to the gut: he doesn’t care enough to ask. Or if he does, asking could mean complicating things he wants to keep simple.

“Tav?”

You hear Astarion addressing you, but you’re stuck inside your own head now. Of course he doesn’t want to know. Freedom and survival are the key factors driving Astarion in everything he does, and getting entangled with you beyond pleasure and safety — and feeding — could compromise both of those things. While he probably does consider you a friend at this point, it’s only surface-level. In all honesty you can’t blame him. After all he’s been through, trust doesn’t come easy to him.

You could hold a grudge for the lies he told you, but the truth is, you went into this with your eyes wide open. You could’ve called him out on it, but you were so curious about what it would lead to that you let him believe that you were fooled.

“Tav?”

A cool hand on your arm snaps you back to the here and now.

“Sorry, did you say something?” He’s eyeing you warily, and you wonder fleetingly how he would react if you told him the half-lie about the nightmares.

Astarion’s brow twitches as he opens his mouth to speak. “Tav–”

“Gooood morning, everyone!”

Gale. Of course. “Good morning, Gale.” Not letting yourself ponder what Astarion might’ve been meaning to say, you fling yourself at the opportunity of a new topic of conversation as if it was the last potion of healing in an otherwise empty pouch. “Aren’t you chipper this morning?”

“I saw a falling star just before going to bed last night, and it felt like a sign that this day would be an exceptionally good one.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Speaking of.” Lowering his voice, Gale slides closer to your side. “I was thinking of doing some stargazing tonight. Want to join me? The sky should be clear enough for it.”

You can feel Astarion’s eyes on you. “Sure,” you hear yourself say, immediately regretting it.

“Perfect!”

“What’s perfect?”

Saved by the Tiefling. “Gale says tonight should be perfect for stargazing.” When you turn around to face her, there’s no Astarion in sight. That should feel like a relief, and yet, you can help but worry. Why that is is beyond you, but the guilt is still there, confusing you even more.

“That’s not–”

“Why don’t you join us? We can ask the rest of the group too.”

“Excellent idea, Tav!”

“Mm, yes. Excellent.”

Gale sounds disappointed, but it’s better this way. If you were more callous you would use Gale to try to get Astarion out of your system and out of your heart, but that is out of the question now. During your weeks together, he has become a friend. They all have.

Perhaps you can find yourself a handsome druid when you all go back to the Grove to trade with the merchant Arron later today. If for nothing else, you desperately need to work on your flirting game because it has never been your strong suit to begin with.

“Tav?”

“Yes, Halsin?” You don’t know it, but the druid can tell that something is troubling you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, never been better.” If you keep saying it out loud you might perhaps believe it at some point.

“Right.” His seemingly all-knowing eyes scan you up and down, making you feel like he can see into the deepest parts of your heart and mind. You’re not entirely sure that he can’t. “I heard from Karlach that you’re going to the Grove,” he continues after a moment of heavy silence. “I have other business to attend to today, but I wanted to ask if you could do me a favour while you’re there.”

Your body relaxes with relief. “Yes, we are. What do you want me to do?”

The fictitious druid can wait for another time.

~~~

[tikvin]

Eshra's greetings and some banter

-39—-20(negative)

"Out with it"

(sigh) "What?"

(tongue click) "And here I thought the day was going well"

-19—20(neutral)

(slight smile) "Yes?"

"You wish to chat?"

"You have my attention"

21—40(medium)

"I am listening"

"You have something to say, yes?"

"How can I help, my dear?"

41—100 (high, exceptional)

"What is it, my dear?"

"Your secrets are safe with me"

"You look like you have a secret to share with me"

"What bothers you, friend?"

Flirty:

"Well-well, haven't my day just got so much better"

"My attention is all yours, dear."

"Ah, I do like the sound of your voice, you know"

Romanced:

(leaning in slightly with a soft smile) "Hmmm?"

"My, oh my, remembered of little ol' me?"

"Got tired admiring me form afar, love?"

(raising an eyebrow with sly smile, she looks expectantly)

Romanced (rejected Bhaal) Will include all of regular romanced lines and additional:

"Since I stopped hearing the song of your blood, your voice got so much clearer, my love"

"To be free, to be loved, what more could one ask for? Well, to hear your lovely voice right about now, I suppose"

"My joy, my heart, what troubles you?"

"My darling, I am at your service" (bows jokingly)

Romanced (lost to Orin)

(looks a little lost) "Ah—? Oh. Yes. What is it?"

(in solemn tone) "Speak to me"

(agitated) "What!?" (snaps out of it) "No— not like that— I'm sorry, haven't got much sleep lately. Did you want something?"

Romanced (accepted Bhaal)

"My most beloved victim"

"Oh how I crave to crawl under your very skin"

"I hear the song your blood sings for me so clear. Beautiful."

Banters:

Considering Eshra is more observing than prying type, I don't think she would initiate them much herself. Except maybe environmental ones and a bit of flirting here and there. I have just a few so far.

(Shadowheart/Eshra)

— "Do you dye your hair, Eshra?"

— "Hm? What makes you think so?"

— "I mean, isn't drow hair usually white or blond?"

— "Why, thank you for calling me special, my dear"

— "That's not— Nevermind"

(Eshra/Wyll/Gale. Underdark, after Eshra's amnesia revealed. Requires fighting at least 2 drow enemies, Minthara included)

— "Say, is drow hierarchy really as ruthless and strict as it is described in tomes about Underdark??" (G)

— "Gale, dear, I have no idea. Although the drow we encountered so far left only a bad taste in my mouth"

— "Afraid that you too did something cruel in your past?" (W)

— "Concerned I was a snobbish insufferable brat"

(Eshra/Tav Temple of Jergal or any temple ruins)

— "This feels familiar... somehow"

— "Hm? Were you a church worker?"

— "Of sorts, I think..."

(Lae'Zel/Karlach/Eshra on the elevator thingy on the way to monastery)

— "What a sight. We should stop for a nice little lunch, take it all in." (K)

— "Is the worm gnawing at your grey matter? We must find a crèche and be purified." (L)

— "Lae'Zel is right... A lunch after being freed from our wrigglers would be much sweeter, don't you think?" (E)

— "Chk. You're both are way too frivolous." (L)

(Minthara/Eshra shadow cursed land. Requires Eshra being recruited before meeting Minthara in act1)

— "So, my suspicions were correct."

— (sigh) "What are you talking about?"

— "The moment we met. I thought something isn't right about you. You look like a drow, but you're most certainly not one. So what are you, iblith?"

— "Careful, Minthara, don't make me regret not slitting your throat in that goblin camp, the moment our dear leader looked away."

— "You would've died in attempt."

That it for now! Will post more banters some time later.

[darkurgetrash]

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

When Gortash first formed the cult of the Absolute, he’d somehow expected it to be more glamorous than watching drunken goblins through a scrying eye.

What he’d expected even less was to see his former lover, long-presumed dead, walking among them…

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

Characters: The Dark Urge / Gortash

Game: Baldur’s Gate 3

Words: 1,700

Rating: Teen+

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

When Gortash first formed the cult of the Absolute, he’d somehow expected it to be more glamorous than watching drunken goblins through a scrying eye.

Indeed, in his visions he’d fantasised of insidious masquerade balls, dangerous heists, and intellectual assassinations. Alas, he supposed that tasks of observation were important too. For the plan to succeed, everyone had to be playing their part, from the highest ranking ‘True Soul’ to the lowliest gnoll, and someone had to make sure it was all going accordingly.

After all, if not him, then who? That loathsome animal Orin cared more about her pitiful attempts to please Bhaal than their grand plan, and Ketheric was much too busy ruling over Moonrise Towers to worry about the proceedings of some pathetic goblin camp, so who did that leave? He alone. Besides, he was probably the only one sharp and observant enough to notice if anything went amiss.

That was the case, at least, since Mera was taken from him.

He sighed. How annoying that, even now, performing the most mundane task possible, he still thought of her. The way she’d be sitting beside him, delicately fingering her dagger while her slender feet rested on his lap. She just loved to distract him; tease him.

“What does this button do?”

“That would shut down the Steel Watch.”

“How interesting, what would you do if I pressed it right now?”

“It’s a temporary measure. I’d simply commandeer one of the Gondians to fix it.”

“Boring. What does this one do?”

“That controls the Scrying Eye.”

“I see… Hmm, how about we do a little contest to see who can get someone murdered using it first? The chosen of Bane or Bhaal?”

“That would be hard considering we can’t communicate through it, only watch.”

“Ah, but that’s part of the challenge, dearest Enver.”

She’d strategically stroke his thigh with her foot, raising higher towards his groin in hopes that he might offer a soft moan and give in to her playful, mischievous ways. Then, of course, he’d have to put her in her place, right there on the command console. His hands clasped around her pale neck, long black hair splayed behind her as she glared daggers at him through those divine, striking red eyes…

He shook his head. Pathetic. He couldn’t allow himself to lose focus like this, not when so much was at stake. Mera was in the past, probably now dead and wreaking havoc in some corner of Avernus without a single thought for her once partner-in-crime, so why should he spare one for her? Besides, he spent too many long and lonely nights staring at his balcony, wondering if she’d suddenly appear to amuse him, love him, torment him. Even if it was to assassinate him, he’d have been glad for it, just to see her again…

She’d have been delighted to hear such a shameful admission.

Gortash turned his attention back to the screen, where a red-headed goblin now stood, waving her hand in front of the eye.

“ELLO?? Dis fin broken or wot?”

He leaned forward to reach the control panel, bumping the eye into the goblin in a childish act of irritation. She jumped back, startled.

“OI! I fink dis thing ‘as lost its marbles. Whateva, come this way and I’ll introduce you to the drow.”

The goblin turned and hobbled towards Minthara, a drow noble Orin had selected to be a spokesperson for The Absolute many moons ago. She was followed by a small party, presumably a gang of adventurers who had been infected with the tadpole. Strange though - he did not recognise any of them to be True Souls, so why were they being granted such a high ranking audience?

Intrigued, Gortash watched them as they followed the goblin. He could not see the adventurers clearly due to his positioning, but he could tell that there were four - possibly two men and two women judging by stature alone. One of the men looked to be an elf with curled white hair and daggers equipped at the hip while the other was clearly a magic user, adorning a long purple robe with a quarter staff on his back. The two women were harder to analyse - being shorter and obscured from view - but they both appeared to have dark hair. This was, unfortunately, all he could discern for now.

The goblin and the drow talked together as the four of them observed. Gortash edged the eye slightly closer.

“…This mug helped me to escape. I say we stick a few holes in her, show how grateful we are!”

The goblin seemed to be referring to one of the women, who Gortash could now see was a human with loose hair hanging around her shoulders. She seemed to be the centre of the group, maybe even their leader.

“Oh dear. Your prisoner is one of the Absolute's favourites, Sazza. A True Soul…”

Minthara’s brow raised in interest as the goblin squirmed beneath her gaze. Interesting, so they were True Souls after all… Then why did he not recognise them? Was it possible they somehow slipped the system unnoticed?

“Nah. Can't be... they woz in the grove, hangin' around with the tieflins!” The goblin replied, backing away nervously.

“Undercover, no doubt. Carrying out the Absolute's will. Oh, Sazza - you have made a grave error…”

Gortash knew that this wasn’t the case; The Absolute’s will was his own, after all. Could this be the work of Ketheric or Orin behind his back? Some kind of plan to usurp him?

“… please, no! I didn’t know!…”

It was certainly a possibility. If these True Souls had found their way to Moonrise Towers, it would have been easy for Ketheric to recruit them as sole commander. But to position them in a grove filled with tieflings - what would be the point? Could there somehow be ties to Avernus at play?

“She’s telling the truth. She didn’t know.”

A shiver shot up Gortash’ spine as he heard a voice all too familiar. He stood and moved closer to the viewing screen, but the Scrying Eye was positioned too far away to clearly identify the woman that spoke.

It was surely a trick or some coincidence, but still, the woman sounded exactly like her. Like Mera.

The mere fact that this woman spoke on behalf of a lowly goblin and saved her from a deathly fate was proof enough that this wasn’t his once-partner. Mera was as blood-thirsty and cruel as she was cunning and beautiful. Not in the way her replacement Orin was - who acted like a wild dog, murdering left and right for senseless amusement alone - but in a way that was meticulous and logical enough to match his own intellect. There would have been no point in sparing a goblin, no, his lover would have remained silent as Minthara laid out her judgement, simply observing with deliciously cold calculation.

“… silence, wretch. And remember - you owe your miserable life to this one.”

The goblin ran from the scene and towards the eye, knocking into it in her clumsy escape. Gortash exhaled through his nose in frustration as the screen fuzzed and the audio crackled - all sound now unintelligible.

“Tamia!” he called out through gritted teeth. A cultist belonging to Bane rushed into the room at his call.

“My lord?”

“Send in one of the slaves to fix this at once.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Within seconds, a Gondian shuffled into the room with their head lowered, immediately beginning to fix the scrying eye. Gortash tapped his foot impatiently.

“It is fixed m-my l-lord.”

“You are dismissed.”

The gnome left just as the screen flashed back into focus and the audio returned - but now Gortash could see only Minthara, her gaze fixed on something in the distance.

He returned to his seat and slumped in defeat and annoyance. If he should ever meet this ‘Sazza’, she would face a punishment worse than death for the damage she caused - thanks to her, he would now have to contact Minthara personally to discover what transpired between she and the adventurers.

He returned his hand to the control panel and began moving towards the drow when a light indicating ‘physical altercation’ quickly flashed. Had the eye just been… poked?

He rotated the eye towards the source and…

His heart pounded heavily in his chest and long-dried tear ducts threatened to enflame. Was he even still breathing? Was time still moving? He could scarcely tell, as the world around him seemed to turn to nothing but darkness, the scrying screen a single spotlight.

For there, standing in front of the eye with a puzzled expression, was her.

“It can’t be…”

Mera.

She waved, crossed her arms, and peered deeper into the eye as if she were looking directly at him. Could she sense him there?

“… My lord?”

Gortash snapped back to reality as the cultist cautiously approached him. He realised then that he had shot up to his feet once more, lights flickering around the control panel and small alarms sounding as his fists throbbed against the deck.

He took a deep breath and calmly removed his hands from the panel, assessing the slight damage caused by his clawed glove.

“…How I detest flies.” He hissed. “You were dismissed, Tamia. Were you not?”

He heard the cultist’s breath hitch in her chest.

“My deepest apologies, my lord. I thought you had dismissed the Gondian alone, I-“

“Excuses are a waste of breath. Leave at once. Oh, and Tamia? Have a new slave come repair this and punish the previous one that let a filthy insect into my office.”

“Y-yes, my lord.”

The cultist bowed and left. The command panel still flickered and Mera still shone from the screen, her attention now turned to the elf who was glancing at the Eye with suspicion.

Mera…

No. No, it was impossible. Mera was not infected, she was not even still with the living - if she was, she’d have gone to him. Wouldn’t she have? It… it must be a shapeshifter, another trick from Orin meant to throw him off balance. So he was right, the others were plotting to wage war with him.

How foolish they were.

As the thought grazed his mind, the so-called ghost of Mera raised an electrified hand and swiped.

Then all faded to black.

───  𓆩♱𓆪  ───

[featherwurm]

Ah, the Prismatic Rod - the Lower City's (and possibly Baulder's Gate as a whole's) finest purveyor of adult toys, novelties, costumes, and erotica. The colorful owner and shopkeep Rodrigo, a clever artificer with a phalloi familiar, keeps the place well stocked with all kinds of goodies (ask him about why he's here - it involves pissing off someone who gave him a sexual attraction to hornet's nests as comeuppance.) Tav and Karlach wanted to stop in for a lil something, so why not bring the whole damn crew:

Lae'zel and Astarion compare notes on costuming, she has opinions about durability and versatility. He learns new things about Gith every day.

Wyll and Shadowheart have their filthy book club, and have lots of opinions about all kinds of titles. They also have games like 'guess plot based on the title' and 'worst description of genitalia possible' ('Adult Beefswelling'* is the current top pick.)

Gale does love the beauty of magic in all it's many splendors.

Minsc has found the 'Jokes and Novelties' section and Jahira has seen quite enough for today.

Minthara** is surprisingly tolerant of topside commodities if they show decent attention to detail (Lae'zel "Chk, these could hardly damage a lone berbalang" Minthara "It is not about simply damage, dear Lae'zel - it is about inflicting the optimal amount of pain").

Halsin has no trouble with the offerings on show, certainly they're fun - but he has perfectly good hands, and a mouth, and various other body parts, this all just seems like gilding the lilly, you know?

Tav and Karlach find just what they're looking for. Their choices are beneath the cut:

Both go with variations of what is supposed to resemble a tiefling, more or less (Wyll wasn't kidding about the ridges). Tav's choice is more stylized and exaggerated (better for internal stimulation) and has about six inches of usable length. Karlach's is more literal (better for external) and has about seven inches. They both got lucky on color choices that amuse them.

*Frank Herbert - what the fuck.

** Sadly not in Tav's playthrough but she deserves this

[neurovamp]

Webweave Confessions

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

"For some reason, I'm attracted to you."

Gale blinks.

"Well, that phrasing makes it seem like less of a compliment than it should be."

"I don't know how else to phrase it. I don't know why I'm attracted to you, I just am. It makes no sense to me that I am, to be honest with you, wizard."

Gale cannot believe his ears at this point. Minthara is standing before him, stock sure as usual, and plainly stating her confusing attraction to him. It feels like a dream and also a nightmare.

"Well.. um, I suppose you'll be pleased to know the feeling is mutual?" Gale replies meekly, shrugging his shoulders. He is sure that his cheeks are an embarrassingly dark shade of red.

Minthara nods curtly, though he thinks he can see a smile of sorts tugging at her lips.

"Good, very good. So what do you propose we do about this?" Minthara places her hands on her hips, her expression the same as it is when the party discusses battle plans. It makes Gale excited and uneasy all at once. He's feeling many conflicting things at this moment, but that's just the effect Minthara has most of the time anyway.

"Well, what do you mean? If you would like something to be done, we can certainly do that, but just because two people are attracted to each other doesn't mean anything necessarily has to happen." Gale explains, talking animatedly with his hands, a nervous habit he has.

Minthara hums once again, this time it's the hum that she does when she's in thought.

"I would like something to be done about it, as it is very frustrating to me to.. keep these desires inside myself, so to speak."

Gale has never known Minthara to be this candid with her feelings. She always makes her opinions heard, oftentimes loudly so, but she isn't generally inclined to share the ins and outs of her emotions. It leaves Gale slightly dumbstruck. If he wasn't so distracted by that thought, maybe he would have noticed the rising flush to Minthara's cheeks.

"Ah, yes, very well. I suppose I should ask, are your feelings towards me..." Gale clears his throat. "purely physical, or emotional as well?" Gale finds himself hoping that her answer is the latter.

Minthara takes more time to think on this one, she shifts back and forth on her feet and chews on her lower lip, as though she's thinking quite hard about the nature of her attraction to Gale. If he wasn't so invested in the outcome, he might have been amused.

Minthara sighs.

"My feelings... are not purely lust." Minthara sounds as though she loathes to admit this, she won't even look Gale in the eyes as she says it. Gale finds her embarrassment devastatingly endearing.

Gale breaks out into a goofy grin, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he composes himself to reply as normally as possible.

"Great! I mean, uhm," Gale aggressively clears his throat. "Very well. My feelings are the same." Gale does his best to stifle his incessant smile, he's afraid he might scare Minthara off at this point.

Much to his surprise, Minthara grants him a smile of her own, it is much less enthusiastic than Gale's, but her smile is warm and honest. It fills Gale's stomach with butterflies.

[sky-kiss]

Jaheira x Tav: Injury

A/N: @flamemittens was kind enough to prompt me. Jaheira and Sol, one is injured, and the other is reacting to it. So, as I wait for events in BG2 to happen, have something inspired/informed by a moment in her BG2 romance track.

Jaheira x Solaen: Like, honestly, he'd probably kill himself if she asked. He thinks that perfectly justified. It infuriates her.

The arrow barely pierces his armor. Solaen thinks nothing of it—why should he not move in front of the blow? What self-respecting male would not act in favor of their Ilharess? There is some blood, yes, and he may yet bruise, but the wound is such a little thing to trade for her safety.

It is no small shock when she rounds on him with the grace and fury of a displacer beast, claws out, hackles raised. "What were you thinking? No. Do not answer—you clearly were not. It is the only excuse for this…reckless idiocy."

"Ilharess…"

"Do not." Jaheira steps in close as if to intimidate him with her proximity. Some of the flippancy has bled from her posture—her gestures remain excessive and dramatic but held more tightly to her chest as if to guard herself. Her accent is thicker when she speaks, and he sees some of the violence of her youth still woven into her being. "What if the arrow had struck higher? The head? The throat? What then, idiot boy? Did you consider this, eh?" 

He stares at her, nakedly puzzled. "No."

Jaheira scoffs, making that displeased sound, guttural and half caught in her throat. "Aye, I suppose I should make allowances—say  that your honesty soothes some of the sting of this…stupidity." She jabs a finger at his chest. "Do not let it happen again." 

Solaen snatches her wrist. "I defer to you in many things, Harper, but do not presume to order me—I am not one of your cubs." No fear bleeds across her face, only fresh rage—calling to something equally ugly in him. 

"You are not. They know I am no wilting flower in need of tending." 

"You are no flower," he concedes. "Ilharess, you are entirely capable. This was never in doubt." 

"And yet, you interceded." 

"It would have been…" the drow sighs, releasing her wrist. The words taste too soft, a little like poison on Solaen's tongue—in the Underdark, they would have been more damning than any such substance. "The thought of you coming to harm…" he cleared his throat. "I would not—will not— permit it. Accept that."

"Accept that," she waves him off. "And now you think to give me orders." 

"In this alone." Solaen sighs. In private, he will permit himself to touch the curve of her waist rather than her bicep. It is a weakness, but one they have agreed upon. "You are…something precious." 

"Ugh." But she leans into him, expression softening. Her touch strays to the wound—barely an injury. He feels her magic wash over him, unlike Minthara or Shadowheart's. It is the coolness of a mountain stream, clean and clear.

He snickers, dipping his head to nip at her cheek. Ah, she is aged, yes, but there is a hint of color in her cheek. He chases it, his voice low. "Worthy of protection." 

Jaheira snickers, patting his cheek with perhaps a touch too much force. "Perhaps we should have the cleric inspect you—you seem to have suffered a concussion when I was not looking." The half-elf sighs, pressing her forehead to his chest briefly before stepping away. "Come. I have played the fool and vented my anger on you…let us move on, lest this old woman find more ways to shame herself." 

[blackjackkent]

Got Minthara and Jaheira set up with the party color scheme, very important.

Annoyingly, Jaheira doesn't have any in-game dialogue to respond to Rakha's having consumed the Astral Tadpole, but that just means I'm gonna have to write it myself. ^_^ Jaheira has rapidly taken a position of wisdom and steady competence - and ferocity, when the occasion demands - in Rakha's worldview, so there's no way they wouldn't have had some sort of conversation about it.

-----

Jaheira squints sidelong at Rakha as the half-orc passes her tent. One eyebrow quirks up faintly. "I see Shadowheart is not the only one of our number who has chosen a change of fashion," she says dryly.

Rakha halts and looks back at her, her expression perplexed.

Jaheira smiles faintly. "Your face."

"Ah." Rakha shifts her weight with an odd sense of embarrassment. She and Wyll explained, in general terms, everything that happened last night to the full camp earlier, which was simple enough, but the more direct conversations on the subject one-on-one have proved... uncomfortable, at times. "It was... not intentional."

"Which part?" Jaheira says with wry mock-innocence. "The lines on your face? Or the illithid worm in your skull?"

"The lines," Rakha says. "The worm was my choice. The Astral one, at least."

She squares her shoulders in an involuntary, almost defiant gesture. It's a strange moment; she has never shied away from her own decisions or felt the need to apologize for them, but speaking to Jaheira in her sternest mood makes her feel oddly like a child being chastised.

And yet Jaheira has not even raised her voice nor expressed any active disapproval. The Harper merely looks at her appraisingly, head to toe and back, taking in her changed form, the new shadows on her skin and in her eyes.

"Well," she finally says slowly. "so it is, then. What is done cannot be taken back. And perhaps you are right, that the power is worth whatever cost it carries. Our enemies are certainly strong enough to warrant a desperate measure or two."

Something softens in her face almost imperceptibly, and her gaze grows keen and sharp. "Was it only for that, that you took such a step?"

Rakha flinches, and her eyes flick away. "No," she admits in a low voice.

"Mm." Jaheira breathes out slowly and nods, as if confirming something in her own mind. "Tell me, then."

There's a long silence. Rakha has not even tried to articulate this to Wyll, but something about Jaheira's placid attention is compelling - and steadying.

"I need its help," she finally says slowly. The words emerge one at a time, with pauses between, as she wrestles them into order. "The illithid. The Emperor. It..." A pause. "It protected me. When it's close, my mind is calm. The tadpole and... the beast..."

She isn't sure this will mean anything to Jaheira - but the older woman nods unblinkingly. Perhaps Wyll explained it to her, one of the nights on the road from the Shadow-Cursed Lands. No doubt she had questions about why Wyll ties Rakha up in a corner every night.

"It brought me peace," she finishes quietly. "Its power does too. I can't-- I had to. I needed it."

Again one of Jaheira's eyebrows flicks upward. Her expression is unreadable - it could be amusement, disapproval... or even concern. "I do not know the cause of your beast," she murmurs, "but I have traveled with more than one companion who struggled with darkness in their hearts. I know the desperation that comes with that struggle."

She scrutinizes Rakha's expression for a moment, then nods. "Peace is a fine cause indeed," she says. "But the path that leads to it is a rocky one. Take care you do not lose yourself along the way."

Rakha considers this for a moment. "How can I lose myself," she asks after a while, "if I do not know myself?"

Jaheira's lips twitch. "How will you know yourself, if you allow yourself to be lost?" she counters.

Rakha has no answer for that, and silence stretches again between them for a little while. Then Jaheira, unexpectedly, laughs. "We both speak in riddles, cub," she says dryly. "But I think you know what I mean. Find your peace where you must, if you must, but keep your eyes open. The Absolute is not the only darkness that threatens us - threatens you - and the sun has not yet risen on the day where I would trust an illithid further than I may throw it."

[sorcerous-caress]

I would like to maybe request the different BG3 party members finding out a Tav with a tough guy act was secretly ticklish? Just fluff all around

Finding out you're ticklish

[ fluff, nb!Reader, several characters ]

[ reader is a tough cold badass person ]

Karlach

Absolutely abuses it.

She has been trying to get you to loosen up for a while. As cool and badass she thought you were, she was sure there was a fun side to you.

Took it very personally to try to get you to laugh, bad puns, slipping on a banana peel, and even asking Gale to borrow one of his nerdy type jokes. Alas, you were as expressive as a stone wall.

Just when she was about to give up, she thought "ah what the hell?" and just went for it, full on tickling your sides. Worst case scenario, she will get put on clean duty again.

Imagine her surprise when you started cackling up. Pure sincere laughter coming from your own lips, very contagious too. She found herself laughing along as she kept denying your attempts to push her away.

Now she has a secret weapon, one she plans to use at whichever chance she gets.

Gale

Very amused.

Ah, how the tables have turned. You know he did have a theory on your aversion to touch and the distance you keep from others, and this was the most pleasant of outcomes.

"Accidentally" brushes against your ticklish spots, claims absolute innocence each time. Batting his eyelashes as he swears ignorance.

He'd have prefered a more subtle method than Karlach's, but really, who is he to say? Maybe he could learn a thing or two from her, that sometimes the easiest way is the best answer to a problem.

Shadowheart

Teases you about it.

She threatens to do it in her "maybe I'm joking, maybe not" way. Does she ever do it? Who knows.

But mostly, she can relate to you. She gets teased about her fear of wolves a lot, so she understands if you want her to drop the topic.

Wyll

Defends you.

He was always the kid in the playground who'd chase bullies away, and while this is a more light-hearted teasing between friends things, he will still defend you from Karlach surprise attacks.

You're safe next to him, don't worry, he will never use your weakness against you no matter how tempting it is to get this tough ice cold person to fall into a pit of laughter.

Those aren't his thoughts, just the devil's on his shoulder.

Laezel

Doesn't get it.

What do you mean ticklish? What even is that.

Gith don't really get tickled. Their skin doesn't allow it much. She is a bit fascinated and curious about it. After all, it must be a great weapon if it reduced a formidable person like you into a jumpy offbalance prey.

Yes, she will keep it in mind if she needs to take you down one day. It is the excuse she allows herself on why she keeps staring at you whenever you laugh.

Minthara

While Wyll will attempt to defend you, Minthara doesn't even have to try.

If everyone in here wants to keep their throat unslited, they better not even think to place their grubby hands near you.

Says she did use it as a form of torture in interrogations before. It wasn't very effective since the target would end up incomprehensible.

Astarion

HA

HA HA HA

you poor thing.

His bullying puts Shadowheart's light hearted teasing to shame, he WILL fully throw digs at you every chance he gets.

Brings it up always, asks if you're at risk of falling prone to laughter because your shirt's fabric was too soft. Jokes about how feathers must be knives to you huh.

He isn't big on touching, so your physical body will remain safe. Your mentality, however, is a different case.

Halsin

He is too, very ticklish. How did he get people to stop bringing it up? Simple, turn into a gaint bear.

It's not so fun watching someone fall on you from laughter when it's a gaint cave bear with rows of sharp teeth.

But really, it's not so bad. And here he will help you practice your bear exaggerated laughter to make your teeth look sharper.

[moonselune]

Okay 1 I’m new to your blog but I’ve read your pin post. 2 you’ve content has just kept on showing up hence why I’m here and 3 can I request BG3 ladies reaction to gn Reader who has a habit of adopting children on the streets so when they come home to Baldurs gate. Alllll of Readers kids are like “Papa/Mama!” I just can’t help but laugh at the pure Chaos that would happen

I love the idea you were just browsing the tag and I just would not stop showing up and you were just like ah ffs might as well

mwhahaha welcome to this mess

This is such a sweet request and I had so much fun writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The streets of Baldur's Gate hummed with life as you and Karlach made your way home. The closer you got, the more your heart pounded with anticipation and a touch of anxiety. You had mentioned your habit of adopting children off the streets to Karlach, but you had definitely downplayed the number.

As you rounded the corner to your home, a chorus of excited shouts erupted.

“Y/N!” A whirlwind of children of all ages, from teenagers to toddlers, rushed towards you. In an instant, you were surrounded, hugged, and pulled in every direction.

Karlach’s eyes widened with surprise, but a wide grin quickly spread across her face. “Well, I’ll be damned! Look at all these little rascals!”

One of the older kids, a lanky teen with tousled hair, pointed excitedly at Karlach. “You’re the one from the letters! The big, strong one!”

Karlach laughed heartily, dropping to her knees to be at eye level with the children. “That’s right! And you must be the ones Y/N never stops talking about.”

Chaos ensued as Karlach was bombarded with questions and challenges. She revelled in the chaos, roughhousing with the older kids, lifting the younger ones in the air, and roaring with laughter. One by one, the children warmed up to her, their initial awe giving way to delighted squeals and playful shoves.

Karlach’s enthusiasm was infectious, and soon, the entire street was filled with the sounds of joy and laughter. She wrestled with the teenagers, showing them moves and tips while effortlessly juggling the toddlers, who giggled uncontrollably.

As you watched Karlach seamlessly integrate into the lively chaos, your heart swelled with gratitude and love. She caught your eye over the heads of your children, her smile softening into something more intimate and tender.

“Hey, Y/N,” she called out, her voice warm with affection. “I think I’m gonna like it here.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The walk home with Minthara was filled with a comfortable silence, the drow warrior’s presence a steady anchor beside you. You had told her about your habit of adopting children off the streets, but you hadn’t quite been upfront about the sheer number of them.

As you neared your home, the familiar sound of children’s laughter and chatter grew louder. Suddenly, a small army of kids of all ages burst from the house, their faces lighting up at the sight of you. “Y/N!” they cried, rushing towards you. Minthara’s eyes widened in surprise, her expression quickly shifting to one of mild shock as she was swept up in the chaos.

“By Lolth’s web,” she muttered, stepping slightly behind you as the children swarmed. You were surprised she hadn't leapt up on your shoulder yet and started hissing at them, but there was still time. She came close to doing so when your toddler grabbed at the end of her robes, their little fingers covered in their own drool.

But before Minthara yelled at you to get it off of her, an older child, a girl with bright eyes and a confident stance, approached Minthara, looking at her in awe. “You’re Minthara, right? The drow, the one that saved Y/N?”

Minthara blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Yes, that’s correct,” she replied, her voice cautious as she still panicked about the grubby toddler that was advancing their assault, now using her robes as a tissue.

The girl’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “Can you teach us? Please? Y/N said you are the best fighter she has ever met!”

Minthara’s initial reaction was to scowl and correct the child that she was the best fighter ever, but the earnestness in the girl’s eyes softened her. “Teach you?” she repeated, glancing at you for guidance.

You gave her an encouraging smile and to her relief, scooped up the toddler that was about to wipe something on Minthara's leg. “They’d love to learn from you, Minthara.”

Minthara hesitated but then nodded, her usual stern demeanor relaxing slightly. “Very well. I can teach you a few things.”

The older children gathered around her, their excitement palpable. Even the previous enemy toddler, wobbling on unsteady legs, looked up at her with wide, curious eyes. Minthara knelt down, her movements careful and deliberate, and began to demonstrate basic dagger holds.

As she spoke to them, her confidence grew, and the children listened intently, mimicking her movements with the sticks they had. The initial chaos had given way to a more organized form of learning, with Minthara guiding them patiently.

You watched with a smile, your heart swelling with affection and pride. When Minthara had sent them off and returned to you, she gave you a small, almost shy smile.

“This,” she said quietly, “is not what I expected.”

You chuckled, stepping closer to her. “Welcome to the family, Minthara. It’s always a bit chaotic, but there’s a lot of love here.”

She nodded, a hint of warmth in her eyes. “I can see that. And perhaps,” she added, glancing at the children who were now eagerly practicing the dagger holds she had taught, “this small army isn’t so bad after all.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Returning to Baldur's Gate with Lae'zel by your side, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves. You had mentioned your habit of adopting children off the streets, but you hadn’t quite conveyed just how many there were. As you turned the corner to your home, a wave of voices erupted.

“Y/N!”

Suddenly, a throng of children rushed towards you. They encircled you in an instant, their arms wrapping around you, pulling you in every direction. Lae'zel’s eyes widened in surprise, her usual stern demeanor faltering.

“What is this chaos?” she demanded, her voice tight with alarm. “Where is the discipline?”

One of the teenagers tugged at your sleeve, laughing. “Who’s the scary lady?”

“Lae'zel, this is my family,” you said, turning to her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “They’re just excited to see us. Relax and go play with them.”

Lae'zel looked at you, clearly puzzled. “Play? What do you mean by play?”

You smiled, crouching down to address the younger children. “Kids, I have a super important adventure for you, do you think you can handle it?"

"We're not babies Y/N of course we can!" The little children shouted at you.

"Okay, well if you think you can handle it" You said in mock disbelief "Can you teach Lae'zel how to play?”

With delighted giggles, the children took Lae'zel by the hands, leading her towards a game of tag. She stood stiffly at first, unsure of how to engage. But as the children ran around her, laughing and encouraging her to join, she began to loosen up.

One of the younger kids, a girl with pigtails, tugged on Lae'zel’s hand. “Come on, Lae'zel! It’s fun!”

Lae'zel hesitated but then nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Very well. Show me how to… play.”

You watched with a mix of amusement and affection as Lae'zel, the fierce warrior, was gradually drawn into the children’s games. Her initial panic gave way to tentative enjoyment, and soon she was running and laughing with the rest of them.

When she caught your eye across the yard, her smile was radiant. “I am still not certain about this play,” she called out, “but it is not entirely unpleasant!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Walking through Baldur’s Gate with Shadowheart, you felt a sense of anticipation. You had told her about your habit of adopting children off the streets, but you hadn’t gone into detail about the number of kids you’d taken in. As you approached your home, a joyful chorus greeted you.

“Y/N!”

A swarm of children of all ages came rushing towards you, their faces lighting up with excitement. They surrounded you in an instant, hugging you and clamoring for your attention. Shadowheart’s eyes widened in surprise, her usually composed demeanor giving way to uncertainty.

“Oh my,” she murmured, glancing at you. “This is… a lot of children.”

“Shadowheart, meet my family,” you said with a smile, you then leaned in and whispered to her, “Just go with the flow.”

She nodded, still looking a bit bewildered. One of the younger kids, a little boy with curly hair, grabbed her hand. “Come play with us, Lady Battleflower!”

Shadowheart blinked. “Lady Battleflower?”

“Yes, you’re Lady Battleflower now!” the boy declared with a giggle.

Shadowheart gave you a bemused look, but she allowed the children to lead her away. You watched as she was drawn into a tea party, the children fussing over her, placing imaginary crowns on her head and handing her tiny cups.

Later, you found her still seated at a tiny table, a group of kids around her. She was holding a teacup delicately, playing along with their game. One of your children corrected her posture, insisting that Lady Battleflower must sit with grace.

You approached with a grin, ruffling your children's hair as you walked past them towards your beloved. “Shadowheart, may I join your tea party?”

Shadowheart looked up, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Only if you address me properly,” she said, her tone playful. “Lady Battleflower demands it.”

"Oh my apologies," You laughed, taking a seat beside her. “Lady Battleflower. It’s an honor.”

As your children continued their game, you exchanged a smile with Shadowheart. She was clearly out of her element, but she was making an effort, and the children adored her for it.

Later, as you sat together, watching the children play, Shadowheart leaned close to you. “This is… different,” she admitted. “But it’s not as overwhelming as I thought.”

You squeezed her hand. “Thank you for trying, Shadowheart. It means a lot.”

She smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. “Anything for you, Y/N. And it's Lady Battleflower, actually, your dismissal is offensive, I require five kisses as reparation”

"Only five?" You asked as you leaned towards her, "I believe someone of your stature requires, much, much more." You pulled Shadowheart into a deep passionate kiss, forgetting that you were surrounded by kids who quite quickly made theirselves known.

"Oh my gods, I'm going to throw up!"

"Somebody gouge my eyes out, please"

"Ah! they are eating each other!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh my gods I had so much fun writing this I actually cannot express it ! Hope y'all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Druid Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Jaheira or Halsin is the main speaker/subject or I think their reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Astarion_Jaheira_OskarsBeloved]

Astarion: Cazador always warned us to stay clear of this neighbourhood. Never said why, though.

Jaheira: The last spawn who tried was sunk into the cobblestones and left for the sun to find. I had an unfortunate taste for theatrics, in my youth. {Devnote: A little abashed, but shrugging it off}

Astarion: Ah. Yes, that was probably it.

[PB_Halsin_Jaheira_Park]

Halsin: Ah, a glimpse of nature. Like a sip of water to parched lips, eh, Jaheira? {Devnote: content}

Jaheira: Baldurians think all druids to be hay-haired idlers, Halsin. Perhaps we ought not speak of nature - but high art, or politics? {Devnote: ‘change the record, all these city folk think we’re hippies as it is’ A little tongue in cheek, she agrees with him entirely}

Halsin: I think on them also. But nothing matches the splendour of an ancient tree. {Devnote: Unfazed}

Jaheira: It is so. And, should one favour bear-form, that tree in particular makes for excellent back-scratching… {Devnote: Idle, teasing - offering a direct tip to Halsin under the guise of a hypothetical}

[PB_Shadowheart_Halsin_ROM_Act3]

Shadowheart: Halsin, if I were a druid, what animal do you think I’d be? {Devnote: Idle banter, either Loyal/Reject Shar arc}

Halsin: Given your memory issues, perhaps a goldfish? {Devnote: Gently teasing}

Shadowheart: I’d hoped for something a bit more exotic… but would you carry around my fish bowl, feed me flakes of food?

Halsin: Only the finest, of course.

[PB_Laezel_Halsin_Act3_ROM_001]

Lae’zel: You’ve quite the appetite, Halsin. I’d wager you’ve bedded more of your foes than you’ve felled.

Halsin: Hmm. A challenging sum. The chimera has three heads… but does it still count as one? {Devnote: Not offended, thinking back}

Lae’zel: Must have been a challenging kill.

Halsin: Kill… yes. {Devnote: ‘Yep, that’s definitely what I mean.’}

[PB_Halsin_Shadowheart_SteelWatchFoundry]

Halsin: The birthing ground of those steel monstrosities. I would feel little sorrow if this place should close forever. {Devnote: some disdain (in a factory making robo-sentries)}

Shadowheart: Oh come on, you have to be at least a little impressed by the craftsmanship. There's only so much you can do with wood. {Devnote: gentle poking}

Halsin: Not so, in my experience. There is little I cannot whittle.

Shadowheart: Did you do that on purpose...? {Devnote: half-amused groan}

[PB_Halsin_Gale_ROM_Act3]

Gale: Halsin, you must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life.

Gale: Anything you'd like to pass on to a strapping, love-struck wizard such as myself?

Halsin: Dispensing advice on matters of the heart would be like swapping boots - what suits me may be a poor fit for you.

Gale: Ah. Well, there's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'. {Devnote: Accepting the answer. Thinks 'be yourself' is naff advice}

Halsin: Oh no, perish the thought. That can be outright cruel advice to offer in certain cases.

[mumms-the-word]

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 2

Ch. 2 - The Launch

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: Gale is meeting the team and the submersible is about to launch! For those curious about where a certain pale vampire is, don't worry. He's around here somewhere. Also, have some mood music!

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Lord Enver Gortash. It wasn’t a name that Gale immediately recognized, but the man carried himself with an air of confidence and self-importance that was impossible to deny. Whoever he was to the city of Baldur’s Gate, it was someone of significance.

Gortash straightened from his subtle bow to offer Gale another charismatic smile. “I’m in charge of this little expedition, at the behest of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard himself. It has been a lifelong dream of mine—and his—to locate the fabled Nautera. When we heard that there was an ancient record of the islands and that there might be a man capable of reading and deciphering it—well, it was practically a dream come true. We wasted no time in organizing this expedition to seek out the fabled city. Rest assured, I’ve gathered only the finest to ensure our success. Including you, naturally. You’ve come highly recommended.”

Gale struggled to keep up. Recommended by who, Elminster? And how did this man know about the Account when not even Gale had been certain it still existed until only a few short days ago? And Ravengard—that was a Baldurian name, if he recalled. One of four Grand Dukes that ruled the city. If this was a Baldurian expedition, why had Elminster arranged for him to join? Then again, perhaps he ought not to look a gift submersible in the mouth...

He set those concerns aside for now. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Gortash.” 

“Likewise.” Gortash snapped his fingers at the drow woman. “Minthara. Gather the others will you? We can have a little debrief before we launch.”

Gale didn’t miss the withering look Minthara shot at the back of Gortash’s head, but she turned and left even so. In the meantime, Gortash gestured toward the githyanki, who was watching them both with a sour expression, her arms still crossed over her chest.

“This is—”

“I am capable of introducing myself, istik,” she said, cutting her eyes briefly at Gortash before settling her gaze back on Gale. She straightened and lifted her chin. “I am Lae’zel of K’liir. No doubt I will be this expedition’s strongest fighter, should the need arise.”

“Lae’zel is here to offer her people’s expertise on Nautera,” Gortash said, appearing unruffled by her interruption. “The libraries of K’liir contained quite a few tir’su slates with accounts of the islands. I’m sure the two of you will have much to discuss as we draw closer to the city.”

“Truly?” Gale couldn’t help but be intrigued. “I confess, I’ve always wanted to learn tir’su. No doubt time in your company will prove valuable to us both.”

“Save your words, istik,” she said, settling back against the table and folding her arms again. “I offer only that which is necessary, be it in words or with blades. I do not chatter.” 

“Ah…duly noted.” 

Gortash chuckled. “Don’t mind her. She’s like that with everyone. Ah, here we have our healers. This is Halsin Silverbough of the Emerald Grove and Shadowheart, a cleric who has offered her services to the cause.”

“You must be the translator we’ve been waiting for,” Halsin said, nodding to him. “Well met.”

“Funny,” Shadowheart said, looking Gale up and down. “I thought you’d be more…”

“More…what?” Gale tilted his head. “Dashing? Roguish? Elegantly dressed?”

She pursed her lips. “More of a peacock, I suppose. Your reputation precedes you.” Her gaze settled briefly on his silver Mystran earring before returning to his face.

“Ah. I dare not ask which reputation you’re referring to, if that’s the case,” he said, laughing somewhat awkwardly. He could just imagine what the others had heard about him by now, especially if Elminster had arranged for him to join up.

But just as she noticed his earring, he couldn’t help but notice the symbol on the circlet she wore over her hair—a round black disk like a new moon. Any follower of Mystra would recognize that symbol. It was the mark of Shar, one of Mystra’s longest and most relentless divine enemies. The two goddesses absolutely hated each other.

Curious that there would be a Sharran cleric on board. But if she was here as a healer, perhaps she intended to do no harm. Or so he hoped. He offered her his most charming smile and a little bow.

“Rest assured, I’m more than happy to offer my services to the expedition. The discovery of Nautera is not something a man simply passes up.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gortash said, flashing him a quick grin. “Ah, and I know you’ve met Karlach.”

“Hello again, Gale,” Karlach said, giving him a little wave. He waved back.

“And this is young Wyll Ravengard, son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard.”

“At your service.” The young man bowed gracefully before rising and offering Gale a smile. Gale noticed that one of his eyes had been replaced with a smooth, stone eye and that there were several scars on his face and neck.

For a young son of a grand duke, Wyll didn’t look the part. This man had clearly seen trials the like most could only find in their nightmares. Still, it was curious that he was here. From what little Gale recalled of Baldurian nobility, Ulder Ravengard only had one son, and this expedition was sure to be dangerous at times.

Wyll's presence must be a hint of Ravengard’s confidence in the success of the expedition...or else there was some other, darker reason no one dared to name. Gale hoped it meant the former.

“And finally,” Gortash said, as the drow woman returned to the table, “allow me to introduce our general, Minthara of House Baenre. She has brought with her a retinue of drow scouts and soldiers that will no doubt be invaluable as we explore any Underdark passages along the way.”

“I also serve as the second-in-command for this expedition,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “And I suffer no disobedience of any kind. If you will not listen to Lord Gortash, you will listen to me. Is that clear?”

“As crystal,” Gale said, trying to look sincere. He glanced around the group, trying to match faces with names and names with occupations. Gortash, the lord and leader. Minthara, the general. Karlach, the bodyguard. Wyll, the young noble. Halsin, the druid healer. Shadowheart, the cleric. And Lae’zel, the githyanki soldier and tir’su expert.

An ecclectic group if he ever saw one. He couldn’t fathom why half of them cared about finding the ruins of an ancient city. At worst they would find nothing, save perhaps stone blocks and broken pottery, and at best they’d locate ancient writings, perhaps a rare fragment of the legendary mythallar. Gale knew what he wanted out of the trip—answers about Nautera and its relationship with Netheril as well as the pride in knowing he had proven generations of Candlekeep scholars wrong—but he dared not wonder why the rest were interested.

Perhaps it was better that he did not know…for now.

“Now,” Gortash said, clasping his hands together. “There are plenty more important people to meet but you can make those introductions along the way. We had best be off. Gale, you will be sharing a bunk with Halsin and Wyll while aboard the submersible. I trust they can show you the way?” At Wyll and Halsin’s nods, he continued, “Splendid. Everyone, we will meet at the helm in exactly one hour. If you’re not inside the submersible, you’ll be left behind. And, Gale…” 

Gale paused just as he was turning away to follow Wyll and Halsin down toward the submersible. He faced Gortash again, finding himself caught beneath the Baldurian lord’s dark, unreadable gaze. Gortash’s smile, however, was as charming and practiced as ever.

“Bring your little book. We’ll have need of it.”

-----

The interior of the submersible was nearly all metal. Metal sheets, metal pipes, metal grates, metal bolts. If it wasn’t metal, it was thick glass that peered out into the blue depths beyond. While not entirely unwelcoming, it was certainly different from the creature comforts Gale was used to in his Waterdhavian wizard’s tower.

The bunks, at least, looked passably comfortable, though Gale was a bit disappointed that there was no chance of a private room. Still, Wyll and Halsin seemed sensible, even friendly company.

“How does a young noble and a druid come to join an expedition like this?” he asked them as he dropped his pack onto the only available bed in the room. It was little more than a narrow padded mattress with a thin pillow and a blanket folded at one end, but it was his now.

Wyll, leaning against a ladder-like set of rungs that led to a bunk over Gale’s, gave a light shrug. “It’s a legendary city at the bottom of the sea, like a fairy story of old. What's not to enjoy? I wanted to see it for myself and my father was only too happy to negotiate a place for me...so here I am.”

Gale noticed a shift in Wyll’s voice at his last sentence, but couldn’t quite discern the meaning or emotion. Wyll’s pleasant expression and soft smile were polite, but impenetrable. If there was more to his tale than he was letting on, there was no way for Gale to know it.

“I take it you’re interested in the legends and the history of Nautera, then?” Gale asked.

“Only what I don’t already know. I’ve heard the stories, of course.” Wyll began to gesture with his hands, as if painting the scene. “A fabled city on a distant island, home to a thousand wonders of every kind. Flying ships, walking stone creatures, marvels and magic and more. Only for it to disappear over the span of a single day. One day it’s there, another island in the vast sea, and the next—” he snapped his fingers, “—gone. Not even a rock jutting up from the water to suggest it was ever there.” 

He smiled and dropped his hands, shrugging. “They say the person who finds Nautera will be granted one wish, whatever their heart desires. But I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“Perhaps not, but there are always elements of truth even in the midst of a fairy story or a legend,” Gale said. “Perhaps wishes were granted there, back when it was above water.” 

He turned to Halsin, who was seated on the bunk opposite, his wooden staff resting on his knees. “What of you? I’m surprised to see a druid of the forests showing an interest in an underwater city.”

Halsin smiled faintly. “It is odd, and this…submersible is unnatural to me. But I was told there was a need for a healer, and I have been many strange places in my modest life. To see the ruins of a civilization that predates my own people…such marvels are not to be ignored, I think. I am here to be of service and to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“Then our interests align. Though I hope we will not need to rely on your services too much, Master Halsin.”

“Just Halsin, please,” the old druid said, chuckling. “And I agree. Though if the need arises, I can be useful in other ways.”

Before he could explain further, there was a sharp knock just outside the bunk room. A young man in uniform leaned in through the open doorway. “Saers, you’re wanted at the helm. We’re to launch in a few minutes.”

“We’ll be right there,” Wyll responded, and the young man disappeared. Wyll took a deep breath and turned to smile at Gale and Halsin. “We’d best be off. I hear the best place to witness a submersible launch is at the front.”

He and Halsin ducked out of the room, the tall elf literally hunching to make it through the rounded, low doorframe. Gale made sure to retrieve the Nauterran Account and tuck it carefully into his satchel, alongside his spellbook and a few other supplies, before following them out of the bunk room. 

The helm featured an impressive array of controls, dials, levers, and gauges, all manned by various pilots, including one surly-looking blonde dwarf at the very front. Overhead, bolted sheets of metal made up part of the sloping, dome-like ceiling before transitioning to curving panels of thick, reinforced glass between metal bars, giving them a clear view of everything immediately ahead and above them, and a fair view of the sides too. At the center of the room, a large, curving, mahogany desk and a surprisingly plush chair took up much of the space, looking elegant yet out of place, as if they had been teleported in from someone’s office back in the city. Someone had laid out several maps and navigation tools on the surface. The chair was unoccupied at the moment, but Gortash stood just to the side of it, hands clasped behind his back, watching the pilots work. 

A few paces away, Karlach shifted restlessly on her feet, tapping her fingers against her thigh and turning her head this way and that, as if trying to catch all the action going around her. Minthara, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart stood nearby, with Lae’zel and Shadowheart eyeing each other darkly and Minthara ignoring both of them to stare over the head of a gnome pilot messing with specific controls.

Gortash glanced over his shoulder and noticed the three of them entering. “Ah, good. You’re here, just in time to watch the magic happen. So to speak,” he added, sending a grin Gale’s way. 

Before Gale could respond, Gortash turned away and directed his next words to the blonde dwarf at the front of the room, where a big metal ship’s wheel was waiting. “Redhammer, begin the launch and take us out to the open sea.”

“Aye, saer.” The dwarf pulled one of the levers and took the wheel. “Commencing launch.”

All around the room, various pilots began to flip switches, pull levers, and turn wheels, calling out responses or numbers that Gale could make no sense of and watching various screens and gauges as they worked. He felt the floor beneath him shudder as distant engines roared to life, the dull rumble and vibrations reaching them even there in the helm. The excitement in the room was palpable. Gale’s heart began to pound and his blood began to race through his veins, all in anticipation of the launch. 

All at once the entire submersible gave a downward lurch, as if being dropped or let go, and a flurry of bubbles billowed up against the glass. Gale moved to a free space near one of the windows, out of the way of the pilots, watching as more curtains of bubbles bounced and twirled upward as the seacraft began to lower gently away from the docks. He felt his ears pop as they sank lower and lower and began to turn away toward the deeper blue of the ocean depths.

No turning back now.

“Watch those power gauges, boys,” Redhammer said, directing his fellow pilots. “Steady now. Increase engines one and three and bring them to thirty percent.”

The rumble from the engines louder grew until it was a sonorous thrum in the background, the vibrations beneath Gale’s boots now a constant drone. Outside the submersible, the massive metal fins on either side came to life, frightening and scattering several fish that had ventured too close. He felt the seacraft tilt and adjust before it fell into a steady, subtle rocking pattern, like that of an undulating whale, as it began to move forward. It wasn’t unlike the rocking of a ship on the sea, though perhaps more regulated. 

As they moved away from the docks and out toward the open expanse of the ocean depths, they cut through fronds of thick, towering kelp, sending fish and other creatures fleeing through the waving undersea plants. It was surreal to watch the underwater world pass by them through the windows of the submersible, almost as if he were seeing merely illusion rather than reality.

“Whoa…” He turned to see that Karlach had joined him at a nearby window, staring out of it in wide-eyed wonder. Her glowing eyes were even more alight as she took in the waving plants, the fish, and the bubbles as they moved through the water. “We’re really doing this…”

Her wonder bolstered his own and he offered her a somewhat crooked smile. “Nervous?”

She glanced sidelong at him and laughed. “Too late for that now, soldier. Besides, Gortash doesn’t pay me to be nervous.”

Redhammer’s voice called out again. “All engines to forty-five percent. Take us down ten degrees down-angle and hold us steady.”

Working in tandem, the pilots pivoted the seacraft and maneuvered it downward, increasing the speed until they were moving along at a noticeable clip. The kelp forest quickly gave way to rocky reefs with sparse coral and from there to gray, silty sand that disappeared into darkness the farther they descended. The sunlight overhead grew fainter and fainter until at last they were enveloped by inky blue and cobalt, the waters ahead illuminated only by the brilliant enchanted lights that shone outward from the front of the submersible. 

Beyond the reach of the seacraft’s lights, the depths below beckoned, looking like a vast, empty void of velvet black. Gale held tighter to his satchel, his eyes on the dark waters ahead. He was loathe to pray to any goddess other than Mystra—and even she hadn’t been listening to his prayers lately—but he was tempted to offer a meek prayer to Umberlee, the chaotic goddess of the seas. They were in her territory, after all...

And at the mercy of her infamously temperamental whims. The darkness of the depths was a tangible reminder of their tentative place in her domain, because, as any Waterdhavian knew, the Bitch Queen was more than capable of summoning a creature from the depths to sink a ship.

A massive submersible diving into her depths would only be that much more annoying to her, and that much more susceptible to destruction. Gale could only hope her attention was diverted elsewhere.

[mikuchan]

For ship bingo: Minthara/Halsin "and it was so small they had to lie almost on top of each other" 💛

This wound up more general forced proximity, and a little longer than intended. ~1000 words below the cut!

only one bed bingo

When the Nightwarden joins them, Halsin’s not happy. She’s grating and harsh, unpleasant to be around. 

In all truth, he’s not even quite understanding. Not the way some of the others claim to be. He wishes he could be, he wants to be the bigger person, but truly, he cannot understand the drow and their cruel culture. He can barely bring himself to try. 

But like the others here, like the Nightwarden…he’s also been victim to greater plots and cycles. He does not understand the drow herself, but he does understand the precarious position she’s in. 

So he’s gracious. He presses his lips together and does not advocate for her to leave. He joins her, along with the others, in battle and at meals. He even offers to share his tent. He’s a leader, after all, even if not their leader, and one of the oldest of the group. He certainly couldn’t allow another to open their tent to the drow while he continued to stay safe and alone inside his own. 

So far he’s wound up simply spending each night outside, anyway. He’s used to sleeping roughly, and as a cave bear, it’s almost warm.

Almost. The air grows colder with each passing night, harsh winds rumbling down from the mountains as winter seeps into the shadow-cursed lands. It rains more often than not, and it’s on one such night that Halsin makes up his mind. Why should he be out here, fur soaked and skin freezing, while the drow enjoys the shelter of the tent? The agreement was to share, after all, not to sacrifice his comfort for hers. 

He releases his wild shape, reverting to a man before pushing his way into the tent. It’s a small space, made smaller because of his height and bulk suddenly filling it; the drow rouses instantly from her meditations, red eyes snapping to him. 

“What are you doing here?”

He keeps his tone light. “I think I’ve enjoyed enough of the Oakfather’s chillier blessings. I won’t disturb you, but I’ll join you here the rest of the night.”

“I am not in the mood,” the Nightwarden hisses. “Find another tent to raid.” She spits a word in drowic that Halsin pretends not to know. 

“I’m not asking you to leave,” he says. He is tired of being kept from home and comfort, such as they are, by drow. Particularly this drow. “But this is my tent as well as yours, and I’m not going back into the rain.”

“Fine,” she finally snaps. “But disturb my trance, and you will regret it.”

“Likewise,” Halsin says mildly, and something like annoyance and a little like respect flashes over the Nightwarden’s face. 

They divide the bedroll as they lie in their respective trances, each silently claiming their half of it. They do not touch, but the bedroll’s so small that Halsin feels he’s almost lying on top of her despite it. The Nightwarden takes the pillow, and Halsin uses his crooked arm. Warmth radiates against his back, and despite the sour drow source of it, Halsin finds himself far more comfortable than he was in the freezing rain outside.

His sleep – such as elves sleep – comes easily enough, though he’s repeatedly roused by the drow doing…what is she doing? She keeps jerking occasionally, jostling him, sometimes hitting him with an elbow or a foot. Is her intent to disturb his slumber, to make him so uncomfortable that he leaves again? Is she just trying to claim more space than is rightfully hers? Halsin’s not a small man, and he’s already giving her more of the bedroll than he’d like. 

Another swell of wind. They’re still not touching, but in the hairsbreadth of space between them, he can sense the drow stiffen. The rain sweeps against the tent, spattering noisily, and she jumps, kicking him again. 

Ah. Of course she’d be on edge: the Underdark is static, no seasons to speak of. The drow isn’t used to the weather. 

He rolls over, facing her. She’s deep in her uneasy trance, pupils moving back and forth behind closed lids.

Halsin knows animals. He knows the sting of a stray cat’s claws – and he knows the fear behind its arch and hiss. People are not so different. 

Very gently, he hovers his hand over Minthara. He doesn’t touch her, not physically; instead he calls upon a small amount of the Oakfather’s healing magic, letting it well up against his palm and seep into Minthara’s freckled shoulder. It’s meant for physical maladies, of course, but Halsin’s never been one for strict divides between body and soul. He’s used this spell to soothe crying children, to calm nervous animals, occasionally to help talk down a younger, panic-stricken Kagha. Minthara remains tense for a long moment – then slowly, slowly, her expression softens and her muscles relax.

Another burst of rain against the tent; Halsin’s so focused on the drow, it even startles him. He’s doubly surprised when Minthara curls into him, fingers finding his shirt and clenching it as the storm outside sweeps and thunders. He tenses, ready for a fight, but it doesn't come. No harsh words, no knife to his gut, no threats or bluster. Is she even awake? Her breath is hot against his collar. Halsin shivers. 

He isn’t sure if his actions are against his better judgment, or because of that better judgment. The Nightwarden Minthara is a harsh, cruel woman, unrepentant and smug. She’s also shuddering against him at every surge of rain. Regardless, he wraps his arms around her securely, enveloping the smaller woman in a gentle bear hug. 

She’s warm in his embrace, breathing evening as she finally drifts into a deeper, peaceful sleep. There is a strange comfort, he thinks, in caring for another, even one as…unpleasant as Minthara. Halsin lies bemused for a long while; and then he, too, is lost in slumber.