#as in he did not show up at moonrise towers and since then he just keeps talking about how the shadow curse is almost lifted

[cacturne]

oh wow everything is kind of broken

[scratchandfriends]

Shut Me Up (+18)

This is my formal application to join the Holy Rolan Empire. Who do I need to talk to about this?

Pairing: Rolan x Female Tav (human sorceress in mind because that’s my tav lmao)

WC: 3000 oops

Summary: All you do is save the day and yap. It drives Rolan up a fucking wall. He absolutely cannot stand you… or so he is trying to convince himself. This would be so much easier for him if you weren’t so damn cute. 

Content Warnings: alcohol consumption, angry sex, face fucking, teasing, oral m receiving, unprotected sex (don't), creampies, making out, aggressive kissing, hair pulling, PRAISE KINK GOOD BOY ROLAN (because somebody needs to tell him), he just has a big fat crush on you.

— — 

First, it was killing the goblins attacking the grove. 

Then, it was defending Last Light from the cultists. 

Then, it was rescuing the gnomes and tieflings from Moonrise Towers. 

And on top of all that, you just had to save his sorry tail from the Shadow Curse. 

Jaheira had given the go-ahead to dip into the extra supplies for a bit of fun to increase morale and celebrate the safe return of the captives… and of course, much to Rolan’s dismay, you were the belle of the ball. Even his own damn siblings were fawning of you and your rowdy companions, but he let his annoyance lie since you did save their lives after all. 

He should be grateful, shouldn’t he? You brought his family back together and saved many more from death or a lifetime of grief. You kept Last Light safe from the Shadow Curse and were planning on defeating Ketheric and the Absolute yourself. Your heroics were not lost on him, and judging by your behavior here at the party, they were not lost on you either. 

Rolan sat at the bar nursing another bottle of wine alone as he watched you with a scowl. You had discarded your usual robes for a glittering, light-blue party dress, no doubt stolen, Rolan thought. You danced energetically with that massive, brutish tiefling woman, both of you spilling wine all over yourselves and the floor. Your long, blueish silver hair cascaded down past your shoulders and just kissed the exposed skin above your lower back, the milky skin shown by your backless dress peeking out at him as your hair moved when you danced. 

“Enjoying the show, brother?” Cal’s teasing voice comes from behind Rolan’s barstool. 

“We could be killed at any moment, hardly a time for anyone to be enjoying anything.” Rolan remarked as he straightened his back and his eyes were peeled away from you. 

“Always such a stick in the mud. Would it kill you to have fun for once?” Lia appeared on the opposite side of Rolan and rolled her eyes. 

“In this situation? Perhaps. Someone should be aware of their surroundings at a time like this.” Rolan quips. 

“Judging by how much of that bottle you’ve drained, I wouldn’t say you’re entirely aware.” Cal says. 

“I have to tolerate the company somehow.” Rolan snorts and takes another sip. 

“Well I’d practice your manners, your favorite little sorceress is coming this way now.” Lia says with a smirk. 

“Come on, we’re missing you all on the dance floor! I’ve tipped Alfira greatly, I think my favorite song is coming up soon!” You sidle up to the bar across from the tieflings and put your elbows on the bar top. “Missing even you, grumpy.” You flash Rolan a cheeky smile. 

“I’m perfectly content here. Drunkenly frolicking like an imbecile isn’t relevant to my interests.” The wizard snips at you with a frown. 

“Aaah, I see! Makes sense. So you won’t be needing this anymore, then.” You say as you snatch Rolan’s bottle of wine off the counter in front of him and take a heavy swig. 

“Give that back.” Rolan says with a slight snarl, baring pointed teeth. Rolan reaches an arm out across the bar to grasp towards his stolen bottle. 

“Oh, this? You want it back?” You say with a giggle before taking another sip from the neck of the bottle. You smile and take the opportunity to wedge the bottle down the front of your dress, lodging it tightly between your ample, exposed cleavage. “Why don’t you take it?” You ask with a devilish grin. 

“Go on, then!” Cal goads with a laugh, slapping his brother on the back. 

“Hmph. Keep it.” Rolan sits back on his barstool, feigning disinterest in your antics. “I’ll just have the kids bring me another.” 

You sigh and pull the bottle from your chest. You lean onto the bar, pushing your breasts together in the process. It doesn’t escape you how Rolan’s eyes are glued to your tits resting on the countertop. 

“You’re no fun.” You lean in close to him and whisper in a sultry tone. 

You take your stolen bottle of wine and return to your friends who were still reveling in Alfira’s lute playing. 

“What in the hells did you say to the cranky bastard?” Karlach asks while pulling your hand and spinning you around in a twirl. 

“What do you mean?” You inquire with a bit of a smirk. 

“The poor sod’s tail is twitching! No doubt something else is too. You flash him or something?” Your large friend questions. 

“Almost!” You laugh. “Just trying to see if I can get him to crack… he’s quite handsome!” 

“Try complimenting his horns, male tieflings really like that. They pride themselves on those things almost more than their cocks.” Karlach adds. 

“Hmm… good to know…” You say as the intrusive thought of Rolan’s cock enters your mind. You’d never laid with a tiefling before and you were desperately curious. Something about this wizard’s unfriendly, pompous nature intrigued you and you wanted to see what was underneath his prickly exterior. You always liked a challenge. 

— —

Another hour or so of partying goes by and you find yourself both sufficiently drunk and sufficiently bored. You sneak a glance at the bar and find Rolan standing behind it, rummaging through the shelves no doubt searching for more booze. You slink up next to him and try to peek into the cabinet he’s looking through. 

“Need help?” You pipe up. 

“Agh!” In surprise at your sudden appearance, Rolan knocks his head on the wooden cabinet door. 

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!” You giggle and put your fingers to your lips. “Don’t want you hurting those horns of yours. They’re quite the handsome pair, you know. Best of anyone here-“ 

Rolan slams the cabinet door shut and turns to look down at your shorter figure. 

“What the hells is your problem?” Rolan seethes. “Every second of peace I have is somehow disturbed by YOU each time! You are positively infuriating!” 

“I’m just trying to be pleasant, Rolan.” You remark. 

“I am not interested in pleasantries. I’ve given you plenty of gold, I don’t know what other gratitude you want from me.” Rolan says, frustrated and annoyed. 

“Well…” You purr. “Just as you’re not interested in pleasantries, I’m not interested in gold.” You slowly move closer, your chests almost touching. You expected him to push you away, but surprisingly enough he stands in place. “Perhaps you can thank me in a different way…” You cock your head to the side flirtatiously and raise an eyebrow. 

You see Rolan’s Adam’s apple bob nervously. 

“Tav.. I.. ” He stutters. You cut him off. 

“If for whatever reason you find yourself unable to sleep tonight, I’ll be in room 104. Upstairs. Alone.. and my bed is always warm.” You wink before slinking off to the stairwell leading to the inn’s guest rooms. 

— — 

You had swapped your party dress for a short, white nightgown with lace trim and slits high up on either hip. You sat on the feather bed, brushing through your hair that had gotten tangled from the night of revelry. You had made sure to freshen up your perfume in the hopes that Rolan would take you up on your lewd offer of late night companionship. 

*knock knock*

You smirk at the gentle knock on your door. You waltz excitedly over to the door and open it. 

Sure enough, Rolan was standing in your doorframe. 

“I was hoping you’d-“

Your snarky comment was abruptly cut off by a clawed hand gripping the side of your head, tangling in your hair, while the other hand forcefully grabbing your waist to spin you around. The door slammed behind you and you were pushed against it roughly. 

Rolan pulls you by your scalp and smashes his lips on yours. 

There was no grace or eloquence in the kiss, much unlike his usual way of speaking. It was a gnashing of wet tongue and clacking of teeth as he ravaged your mouth, his grip on you never faltering. You froze at first, shocked by his boldness, but eventually you relent and open your lips further for him. You wrap your hands around his neck. 

Having had his fill from your lips, Rolan eventually moves his mouth to trail messy kisses and sharp nips from your jaw to your neck. 

“Wow, eager are-“

“Do you ever shut UP?” Rolan pulls back from your neck and growls, shoving his knee between your legs further, causing you to instinctively grind your bare sex onto his trousers. He brings his hand from your hair to grip your neck. 

“You’ll just have to shut me up, then.” You choke out with a smile, his clawed hand around your throat gently squeezing the sides. 

“It would seem so.” Rolan’s nostrils flare and he picks you up and tosses you on the bed with surprising strength for a wizard. 

You strip your nightgown over your head excitedly and lay back on the bed in as seductive of a pose as you could muster. Expecting to be either insulted or pounced upon, you sit up on your elbows in anticipation. Surprisingly, Rolan was standing at the foot of the bed, mouth agape, seemingly entranced by your nude figure laid before him. You take this opportunity to shift the tides in your favor. 

“What’s wrong, Rolan?” You say as you slowly spread your legs, exposing your swollen, dripping cunt to him. “Hellcat got your tongue?” 

This snapped him out of his daze. 

“Brat.” He scoffs before frantically shedding his own clothing. 

As he strips, you sit up on your knees on the bed so you can get a better look at your new lover. Geometric infernal ridges covered his chest and abdomen, almost guiding your eyes downward to his erect cock bobbing desperately in front of you. It was long and bright red, leaking tip more pointed than you were used to, but its most unusual feature were the prominent ridges decorating his shaft. You were dying to know how it felt in your hand… your mouth… your cunt… 

“Stop gawking, it’s not polite” Rolan says, less aggressive now than he previously was now that he was stark naked in front of you. Was he blushing? It was hard to tell. 

“How pretty you are… you have to let me play with it.” You purr as you lower yourself on your elbows, pushing your ass high in the air, wiggling it and successfully distracting Rolan from your advances towards his member. 

“Play? Is that how- shit!” Rolan gasps and curses as he feels you wrap your soft hand around his cock and stroke it slowly. 

You loll your tongue out of your mouth and place his hot tip on it, all while staring up at him lustfully. Rolan lets out a low growl and bucks his hips into your face, pushing his cock past your lips and into your eager mouth. You happily wrap your lips around his cock head and begin to slide up and down his ribbed length. His hand comes up to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail and guides you along his cock. Drool pools in your mouth and dribbles out the sides and you groan in approval of his roughness. 

“Ah ah, no talking with your mouth full.” He smirks playfully down at you. 

You try to reciprocate the smile, but can’t manage much do to your mouth being forcefully stuffed full of cock. Rolan must have noticed they way your thighs were tensed and rubbed together impatiently. 

“Touch yourself. Get yourself ready to take me.” He commands. 

You spread your knees and bring one of your hands down your front to play with your wet sex. Supporting yourself on one hand, you circle your clit in time with your sultry bobs on Rolan’s cock. You slide two fingers into your soaking hole and moan around his length. You continue to work yourself up, pushing and pulling on that special spot inside of you, whimpering and sharply inhaling as you slobber all over Rolan. 

“What a sight… Gods, such a messy girl…” 

You nod happily, not removing him from your mouth. You can’t help but notice as the rough grip on your hair becomes… softer. His thumb began rubbing against your head soothingly, as if to gently encourage you to suck him off instead of demanding it. 

“That’s enough, I'm going to have you now.” He says as he cups your chin and pulls you off him, a long string of saliva still connecting the two of you. You eagerly push yourself onto your back and spread your legs wide to make room for him. 

Rolan climbs over you and teases your clit with the tip of his cock. 

“Pretty little thing you are…” He says as his eyes rake over your body. 

“Be careful, wizard, that almost sounded like a compliment.” You chide and buck your hips up into him, wordlessly pleading for him to penetrate you. 

“I would tell you to hush…” He positions himself at your entrance. “But I think now I’d like to hear every little sound that comes from those sinful lips…” 

Rolan presses into you finally and you gasp at the ridged intrusion, unlike anyone else you’ve ever laid with. You arch your back and rake your hands down the infernal ridges on his abdomen. Once you feel his hips flush with yours, you look up and see the wizards eyes screwed shut in concentration, clearly trying not to let this moment end too soon. 

You grind your pelvis into his, beckoning him to start moving inside you. 

“Nine Hells… so fucking wet…” Rolan remarks with a sigh as he starts thrusting shallowly. He grips your breasts as leverage, teasing your nipples with his thumbs. You wrap your legs around his hips, encouraging him to fuck you deeper. 

“Gods Rolan, you feel so good…” You moan out to the ceiling. 

“Y-yeah?” Rolan asks as he picks up the pace and intensity of his thrusts. 

“Yes! Fuck! You’re so good!” You cry out in pleasure as you feel those gorgeous bumps along his shaft caress your walls so deliciously. 

“I-I’m good? Say it again..” He asks shyly. “Please tell me again…” 

Suddenly, you feel his tail wrap tightly around your leg, squeezing it possessively. It was like he was holding on for his life...

“You’re so fucking good Rolan. Your cock feels so perfect inside me. Fuck me harder, you’re going to make me cum…” You feel his cock inside you twitch and you could have sworn you heard him whimper. He obliges your request and pistons his hips into you harder. You feel the familiar warmth of your impending release tingle throughout your lower half. 

Rolan slinks an arm underneath your lower back, leaning over you further in the process and cards his other hand into your hair splayed out on the pillow beneath you. 

“I’m so close, please Rolan, you’re such a good boy. I want to cum on you. Fuck, there!” You moan and pant up at him as you bring your hand up to cradle his face in your palm. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the sight above you was too delectable to miss. 

“I-I am a good boy.. please cum for me…” Rolan pathetically whines and pleads to feel your release coat him. 

“Yes Rolan, my good boy… I’m- shit!” You cry out and feel your walls begin to convulse in anticipation of your climax. With the next thrust against your sweet spot, your dam breaks and you let out a vulgar moan as your orgasm overtakes your body. 

“Fuck, yes, your good boy!” Rolan pants and fucks you through your high. “I-I’m close.. where should-?” 

“Inside. Make me yours.” You say breathlessly, still delirious from your powerful climax.  

Rolan could no longer hold back, groaning loudly as he spills himself entirely deep inside of you. He grinds himself into you as he continues to cum, seemingly endless ropes of spend decorating your wet walls. 

Once finished, Rolan gingerly slips out of you and collapses tiredly onto the mattress beside you. 

You spent the next few minutes catching your collective breaths, nothing being exchanged but soft pets and tender touches as you calmed yourselves. You were stroking Rolan’s cheek with your thumb gently when he finally spoke. 

“Nothing to say now, then?” He smiles softly, teasing you. You return the grin.

“That was incredible.” You giggle. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Rolan.” 

“Wizards are full of surprises.” He jokes, pulling your body into his, rubbing circles into your hip. “There’s certainly more where that came from…” You notice his glowing eyes dart away from yours with uncertainty. “… If you’d have me.” 

You place a tender kiss on his lips. 

“The night is still young, isn’t it?” You nuzzle your nose against his. 

“I don’t just mean tonight.. come see me in Baldur’s Gate. I.. I can show you around, if you’d like?” He still can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes again. 

“You won’t be too busy with your apprenticeship?” You question. 

“I… I can try to make time.. if it’s for you.” He says sheepishly. 

You press your chest closer into his and tilt his chin up to meet your gaze. 

“What a good boy you are.” You smirk and pull him into a deep kiss. 

— — 

[merrinla]

Halsin and Minthara weren't always mutually exclusive

Even though you can recruit both of them, in the game it looks like a funny bug. I guess this is what's left of the original idea. It was previously planned not only letting you have them at the same time, but also that they would interact in the party like other companions.

In the audio files, you can find lines of their reactions to each other's deaths. I don't know if these are triggered or not. They are both so bugged that sometimes I can hardly tell which is the cut content and which is the bug.

It's kind of funny that Halsin would be so sad.

I recently completed Halsin's quest with Mintara in my party. In the scene by the lake, when Halsin entered the portal, Minthara said "He made it. Now let's just hope he survives what's on the other side"

Actually this is exactly the same line as Tav's.

Halsin also share many lines with Tav and other origins. Most of them are unused. But in this case the line is not only voiced by Emma Gregory (Minthara's VA), it's triggered.

There is another interesting line. In Moonrise Towers, when Ketheric punishes Mintara for a failure in the grove and sends her to the dungeon, the player can choose not to interfere and leave the location without helping her. In this case one of the characters in your party will remind you that she can be saved as a potential companion. I was wondering if Halsin would say anything. And he did. "Minthara may prove useful to us, should we wish to save her…"

This isn't cut content. This isn't new content added with patches. It's in the game since the release. And this line works. Moreover, this is his personal line.

If they implement the dialogue with an ultimatum it will be nonsense. I mean, first he suggests to save her from the Absolute as a useful ally, and then in the camp he will say that it's the right choice to kick her back under the Absolute control. It's even hard to blame the character for such contradiction. Rather, it's just a stupid limit set by the script.

Next. In Act 3 if you make one of them to go up on the clown stage, the other one will approve.

There is also an unused flag for Act 3 in the game files with the description "Orin pretended to kill Halsin during the Minthara abduction campnight." Which means in Act 3 they were both in the party.

You can see what the abduction of Mintara looks like in this video. Only instead of Halsin, Jaheira is mentioned here.

Maybe there are other confirmations that I do not know about, that they were not mutually exclusive before. But that's enough for me.

They were both not originally planned as companions. Their roles were expanded much later. Most likely, Larian didn't have time to polish their content, so scissors were used. This is why their content seems so unfinished compared to others. Except for Wyll, probably. That's why they are so buggy.

I suppose the reason they are both mutually exclusive is because it is the easiest solution when you have a deadline on the horizon. Just easiest as "it's fine for a companion to just hang out at the camp". Otherwise, you need dialogs, animations, scripts, etc. And you also need to make sure that it will work with everything else. This is time and resources. But this doesn't mean that it's impossible to fix anything later.

I faintly hope that the defenetive edition will have the option to recruit them both.

And I really hope that in the future Larian will look at the games of their colleagues from BioWare (who made the original BG). I mean games from better times than now. The companions below will show you how much they "loved" each other. Not all of them became friends in the end. But nevertheless, we saved the world. Together.

[jamesdeniscouldnever]

Alright, so hurt/comfort won the fic vote, so here we go! Written on mobile since my laptop is broke, so forgive formatting errors. Yall, this is so long. I got carried away. This is part one of a two parter, the other will take place in act 3.

Them. pt 1.

Summary: When Rolan fails to stave off the shadow curse after leaving to find his siblings in the shadowlands, he ends up more than a little bruised and lost. So, of course, it had to be them who showed up to save him again. It just had to be Tav.

Rolan wasn't quite sure where he was. Where anything was, now that he was thinking about it. The shadows and darkness that obscured the land around him made it hard to see if he was anywhere near moonrise towers or if he was truly hopelessly lost. He could feel frustrated tears pricking the corners of his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away and squared his shoulders, reminding himself of the whole reason he had come out here - Lia and Cal. He *Would* find them if it was the last thing he did.

He set off down the path once more with renewed determination. He would move the Heavens and Hells to find them. He would cast himself into Avernus once more if it meant they would be safe. If they could be saved...if they weren't already dead. What if they were already dead?

The thought has him stopping in his tracks and clenching his first. Damn this. Damn Thorm for taking them. Damn Zevlor for freezing on the group. Damn himself for going after the children first. And damn that stupid cretin Tav for playing hero at the grove and then leaving them to the darkness. If they had stayed with the group of teiflings, would they be in so much trouble now? Would it have changed anything? Would Lia and Cal be safe?

Rolan aggressively wipes away a tear that's escaped and is rolling down his cheek. He takes deep breaths to try and hold back a sob and looks around once more. He's stopped under a lantern, like the few that seem scattered around the area. Probably left by those long gone. Selúne's blessing keeps him safe from falling to the curse, but he's still grateful for the light. It gives him a moment of comfort. One that is quickly cut short by the sound of inhuman shrieks and groans. Rolan quickly whips around, a cold shard of fear running through his spine. Shadows.

4 of them, to be exact. And they're quickly inching their way closer to him, not willing to step into the light but also unwilling to let him escape. He immediately conjures the first cantrip he can think of - a ball of fire - and without thinking, launches it at the nearest shadow. It shrieks and evaporates into itself, leaving three still staring at him with their featureless faces. He grounds his feet and readies himself to take them on or die trying, anything but being dragged off into the shadows.

His focus is broken when the shadows move in, enraged by the fall of their compatriot, no longer afraid of the mere light of a lantern. Before he can even move necrotic claws are ripping into his flesh, horrifying shrieks and screams fill his ears. He's desperately trying to focus, to conjure something, anything, to free himself long enough to have a chance at a fair fight. But as the shadows advance and drain him of any hope he had left, he begins to give in. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he'd be with Lia and Cal again. Maybe he could stop constantly running for his life...

Just as he's about to finally stop fighting and let go, a blast from somewhere up the hill sends the three shadows flying back. Not yet defeated, but away from him. Rolan lifts his head. When had he bowed it? When had he fallen to his knees?

The first sight he's met with is *them*. Tav, in all their glory, advancing with both weapon and magic, a look of furious determination on their face. They make such quick work of the shadows that had almost taken him that he's almost embarrassed to have fallen to them. As the last shadow falls they whip around, immediately making for him.

"Rolan! Thank the gods, you're alive! Are you hurt? What in the nine hells are you doing out here alone? I heard you yelling, thank Selúne I found you in time."

He had been yelling? Their hands are flitting over him, not quite touching him. Their face holds concern, their brow pinched with worry. Why were they here? Why the hells did they follow him? Why couldn't he do anything for himself anymore?

"Damn it! Damn you. All I came here to do was to look for my family, and I can't even do that! Not without needing you to swoop in to save me," his voice catches and his shoulders hunch, his will finally leaving him, "and if I had that much trouble just walking through the woods...they're dead aren't they? Lia and Cal are dead."

Bitter tears leave his eyes before he can stop them. They had come all this way, survived so long! And for what? Just to be taken by shadows and monsters. To be taken by what resembles a child's nightmare. He's about to scream every foul word he knows when two hands cup his face. Tav now kneels in front of him, having joined him on the ground. They stare into his eyes with stallworth determination and care.

"Rolan, Lia and Cal are back at the Last Light Inn. When you told me where they'd been taken I set out immediately. Lied my way into the dungeon and snuck them out of a hole in the back of their cell, the others who were taken too. And some other friends of mine. We got back, and you were gone. Umi said you'd set off into the dark alone, and I immediately came looking for you. Gods, how awful would that have been? To get them out only to lose you?"

This whole time, they've been holding his face, trying to get through to him. He was vaugley aware of their thumb stroking his cheek. He wondered if they knew they were doing it. He felt a sort of numbness spread over him. Lia and Cal were safe. They were at the inn waiting for him. His family was alive. He doesn't speak, merely tries to struggle to his feet so he can run back there as fast as possible and strangle those two idiots for worrying him and then cry on their shoulders later that night in the privacy of their room. However, as soon as he puts weight on his feet, he finds himself falling back to his knees, Tav scrambling after him.

"Rolan, stop, stop! You're hurt. There's blood everywhere. Gods, have you even noticed? Those claws shredded you like an owlbears lunch!" They're fussing over him and trying to pull him back, now searching through their pouch for something.

Now that they've mentioned it and the adrenaline is wearing off, he's keenly aware of pain blooming over almost every part of his body. The blood soaking his robes, too. Fear strikes through him once more. Would he get back to Lia and Cal after all? Just as he's about to let doubt creep in, tav places one hand on his shoulder and holds a bottle to his lips.

"Drink. It's a healing potion. It's not enough to heal all your wounds, mind you, but enough to get you back to Last Light."

Rolan drinks without another word, the bitter taste sliding down his throat. The pain lessens. Small wounds mend themselves. He let's out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Thank you." Is all he can utter. Tav helps him to his feet and braces one of his arms over their shoulders. Slowly, they begin their trek back to he inn. Back to safety. Something feels odd as they walk. And it suddenly hits him what it is.

"Where are your friends? I've never seen you travel alone. are they okay?" He questions, wondering if their found family had fallen the way his nearly had.

Tav's face flushes just a little, along with the tips of their ears. Rolan worries for a moment that he's upset them, that their friends really are gone, before they pipe up in a voice that is laced with embarrassment.

"They're fine... they're at Last Light still, I imagine. I, uh...I wasn't kidding when I said I ran to find you after Umi told me you were gone. I don't think any of them were able to keep up with me." Tav's smiles a little sheepishly at him as they walk, and he feels his own eyes soften at them. They really were such a hero, weren't they?

They approach Last Light so much more quickly than he'd thought they would. He hadn't been very far at all...damned shadows must have had him walking in circles. Despite his embarrassment, he feels himself trying to pick up the pace as the lights come into view. He wants to see Lia and Cal for himself. He wants his siblings.

Tav complies, and they quickly approach, nodding at the guards who recognize them and moving straight to the main building. Sitting at the back of the room at the bar, he spots his brother and sister, looking just as worried as he had mere hours ago. Lia sees him first.

"Rolan! There you are! What in the hells were you thinking?! What happened to you?" She's a mix of angry and relieved, he can tell, and he wraps her in a hug before she can scold him and more. After a moment, he releases her and moves to grip his brother in the same manner. A bolt of nervous anger overcomes him he wasn't truly mad, but when someone scares you in such a way what else can you be?

"You're okay. What is wrong with you two?! I was worried sick, I thought you were dead!" He begins to bark in return. He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks to see Yav giving him a look.

"I was expecting a bit of a warmer reunion." They say with an eyebrow raised. He growls at them.

"I thought my family was DEAD. But... You're right. This isn't the time. I... thank you. For everything." He sighs before turning to his siblings once more, "Are you okay? Do you need anything to eat or drink?"

Cal smiles at him and grips his shoulder.

"We're alright, we promise. We're just glad to see you." And Rolan can't help but sigh, his bluster gone.

"I know. I know. I was just so worried about you."

"And we're still worried about you. Look at you! Covered in blood and bruises! You need to get that taken care of. Is there a healer in this camp?" Lia cuts in, angry little sister that she is. Tav smiles, that same kind smile they always have.

"There's not, but I know a bit about medicine. I could take care of it." They say calmly, as if afraid to trigger more yelling. Lia only smiles in relief.

"Could you? We'd be so grateful."

"Now hang on a moment, I never-" Rolan begins before a wuthering look from Lia shuts him up. He sighs and simply nods along, knowing she won't be pleased until he's well. Tav chuckles quiet before putting a a hand on his back and guiding him to one of the few bedrooms in the inn.

"Little privacy, yeah? I'm probably going to have to get your shirt off to bandage you up." Tav says with quiet encouragement. Rolan nods and finds himself sitting on the bed, pulling his robes over his head. Tav pauses when they see him, and for a moment, he swears he sees tears in their eyes. He looks down at himself and finds deep bruises and gashes covering his abdomen. He truly looked like he had been cast back into Avernus.

"What? Don't I look as handsome as ever?" He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Tav blinks a few times, fighting the watery feeling in their eyes and smiling sadly.

"Of course. You always look handsome." They say it with such earnest that Rolan feels himself blushing with heat. Thank the gods for red skin. He goes silent and allows them to look him over, applying salves and bandaging cuts where they need to. They work with such gentle hands and a feather-light touch that he wonders at them. These same hands cut and slice enemies down without hesitation. He's rarely seen These hands not covered in blood. And yet, in this moment, he could mistake them for the touch of a healer or a nurse maid. He sighs despite himself when Tav's hands caress over a particularly sore spot on his shoulder blade.

Tav gives a gentle smile and laughs quietly, their fingers smoothing over the ridges in his skin without judgment. They finish and pack up their healing items and give him a gentle smile.

"You should rest now, okay? I'll get your brother and sister and send them up. Let them keep an eye on you." All while saying this, Tav is gently pushing him to lay down and drawing the blankets over him. He nods without complaint.

Tav smiles again and leaves the room. Moments later, Lia and Cal appear, fussing over him and continuing their scolding. They stop, however, when Rolan begins to cry in relief. His family is alive. He is safe. And it's all thanks to that stupid hero. His hero. Tav.

They hush and talk and jabber on as the night goes on, until eventually he falls into a peaceful half-sleep. He can hear the voices of his siblings but not discern what they're saying. His relaxes in the moment and welcomes the oncoming sleep. He thinks he hears a door opening and a third familiar voice joining the others. Who is that?

He is too far gone to wake and check for himself, but when he feels the unmistakable sensation of a cool hand gently pressing against his forehead as if checking for fever, he knows. Its them. He finally let's go and allows himself to give into a full sleep, but swears the last thing he feels before all fades to black is a mouth gently kissing his forehead. Them.

@illidariiii @potato-dragons @miwn8 @tieflingteatime

[the-mic-drop]

Zelink gets Isekaied into BG3 Pt7: Camp Emotional Turmoil

Zelda- High Elf Draconic Lineage Sorcerer

Link- Half Wood Elf Champion Fighter

So far: Team Link defeated Auntie Ethel and saved Mayrina. Link got all melancholic.

Team Link returns to camp not long after Team Zelda gets back. Link jog-walks up to Zelda and gives her a possessive kiss right off the bat. Karlach audibly coos and everyone (except Lae'zel) smirks at the display.

Zelda is flustered, since Link was reluctant to show affection before, and asks him what's happened. He says he'll explain when they debrief.

Once the party changes into camp clothes and eats dinner, Zelda gives her team's debrief. They cleared out the area's Gnolls and played firefighter at Waukeen's rest.

Once Duke Ravengard comes up, Wyll reveals that's his father. Questions ensue. Moonrise Towers becomes an objective.

Moving on, Zelda tells them about the Githyanki encounter. Most relevantly, the Gith are hunting Shadowheart's artefact. Zelda gently (compared to how Lae'zel would have) coaxes an explanation out of Shadowheart.

Shadowheart tells them all she's able. She's on a mission for Lady Shar and has an amount of amnesia because of it.

Zelda diffuses some tension between Shadowheart and Lae'zel.

Link tells the party about Auntie Ethel and her true nature; a Hag. He explains that they defeated her and saved a woman named Mayrina. He tells Mayrina's story and tells them about the wand.

Lae'zel and Astarion are a little upset that no progress was made with the Goblins, but not so upset that anyone makes a scene.

Before they wrap up, Link mentions Gandrel and how he is hunting Astarion and a possible connection to a village attack and child abduction. The party is understandably perturbed, but Astarion is quick to tell them about Cazador and how he'd rarely done anything that he hadn't been ordered to. That conversation goes as normal.

While the group discusses their moves for the next day, Mizora appears out of the campfire and turns Wyll into a devil. Everyone is appropriately broken up about it. Link doesn't quite get it, since it just looks like he had horns now, but he reads the room.

Before they go to sleep that night, Zelda asks Link if he's ok and if Mayrina is the reason why he acted differently. Link explains that Mayrina being willing to travel with her undead husband on the hope that he can be restored made him think of how far he'd gone to bring her back. Twice. And he couldn't help but think how he might act in Mayrina's place. That rabbit hole didn't lead anywhere good.

Zelda says something comforting, but the question lingers in their minds. They decide to sleep in the same bedroll that night. (No hanky panky. Sorry, voyeurs!)

That night, the party is visited by the Dream Visitor for the first time.

Zelda's visitor looks a lot like a Gerudo, a few features reminiscent of Urbosa. That sets off all kinds of warning bells. She plays along, getting whatever information she can while waiting for the Visitor to make a mistake. When the Visitor claims to be an adventurer from Baldur's Gate, Zelda jumps.

"How did a Gerudo make it to Baldur's Gate?"

When the Visitor can't answer, Zelda demands their true identity. If the urging to use the tadpole's powers wasn't suspicious enough, this all but confirms her suspicions. Or confirms the validity of being suspicious.

The Visitor simply asks for trust before the dream ends.

The next morning, Zelda gathers everyone together to tell them about the dream. Link reports a similar dream with a visitor that resembled King Rhoam, but Hylians and Elves are similar enough that he didn't make the same connection Zelda did.

Everyone else reports a similar dream in turn and, with the revelation that the visitor(s) is likely an illusory form, even those who are usually willing to absorb more tadpoles, like Astarion, are adamantly against it. With the group's resolve hardened, they gear up and prepare to face the Goblin Camp.

[iplaytillifallasleep]

Orin and Durge have their disagreements - Orin is not happy how Durge is running the temple and Durge teaching Orin what Bhaal likes, and offended Orin that her imperfection maybe because of her diluted blood, while Durge is the sole kin and came from blood of Bhaal, Durge is the only one who understands him. Durge does praise Orin saying that she kills beautifully and even Durge cannot achieve that kind of talent/skill.

Orin responds to Durge’s letter - with a threat because her freedom got limited since she gets to spend her time with the other “Chosen” - hence she will craft herself a better Chosen - by putting a worm on Durge’s head to become mindless.

These are all possible because Orin saw the letter of Apology Durge created and felt disgusted by it.

From the Memoirs of Gortash. They met with Ketheric first, Gortash discovered that there was a mind flayer colony and did crown of Karsus Heist. Then the raid to capture and enslave the elder brain. Orin beat up Durge and put a worm in its head. As mentioned, Durge was the very first to be “enslaved”. Then Orin presented herself to the other 2 chosen declaring that they went on a duel she is now the new Chosen. Gortash as one of the original initiator of the plan cannot delay the raid because of leadership issues of one of their allies, it will meant to disrespect the other Chosens and their Gods.

Ketheric was not happy as well with your presence since you came to be commanding in Moonrise towers - which is his domain. The guards were advised by Ketheric to show outmost respect but Durge already asserts its dominance which they believe Durge haven’t earned yet - this was also mentioned by the warden.

Ketheric said that Myrkul mentioned to join with “Orin” and Gortash as part of the Chosen, Durge was never mentioned, as a prize Myrkul will revive his daughter. So Ketheric was just waiting for you to be replaced by Orin. (But in the end when Durge and Ketheric meant - an option will be given if Ketheric will repent to the things he had done, succeeding that option and you will not fight Ketheric but he will throw himself and fight avatar of Myrkul instead.)

After disabling Durge - since it happened in Moonrise and Ketheric is aware - he asked Balthazar to take care of it, to make it a thrall. But since Durge was so beat up, no one expected that Durge will still live until Kressa repaired Durge.

Gortash from his memoirs created a strike team to get the Astral Prism as it serves as a threat to their plans, with the Emperor leading it. Kressas’ husband plead to Balthazar to send away Durge since his wife has been obsessed and doesn’t act like her since the thing arrived. Balthazar then includes Durge in the nautiloid.

Gortash and Durge’s relationship from wiki explains that their relationship is built on mutual respect. They understood the value of alliance, but in the end, it is a battle of dominance, who’s Chosen will win, and who is the God that will prevail. Each of them have plans to either betray or kill each other and control. It just so happens that Gortash plans to defer all none Bane allies to them, Gortash plans to rule over his allies, but with Durge, Bhaal is in the way. That’s why when he founds out that Durge rejected Bhaal - he was thrilled. Happy even, that Durge is not bound anymore to Bhaal, It’s may also be possible that Gortash read the letter of Durge. And sees that the problem with their relationship is that Durge is being held in the neck by Bhaal and the reason for the urges. Gortash understoods that. It also explains why he was genuinely happy when Durge went into his coronation.

I’m sorry, this took longer than I expected, this is just my headcanon. Don’t fight me.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

A night at camp

Self indulgent fluffiest of fluff lol. Ft: Astarion x my durge, Lillith. Astarion puts flowers in her hair during the night at camp while everyone is relaxing and all the companions experience cuteness agression lol I'm not the best at writing but I like to try anyways :3 Takes place in act II after the confession (even though I'm not that far in game yet but shh lol)

Astarion finally told her. He told her how his plan to seduce and manipulate her went off without a hitch. But, he had fallen just as hard in the process. Surprisingly, Lillith didn't seem angry or hurt. She just told him how much she cared for him and gave him a hug. There was no malice, no guilt tripping, no harsh words. Just pure love and understanding. Like nothing he has ever experienced before.

He was taken completely off guard. Ever since then he has worked his hardest to prove himself deserving of such a sweet soul. He dotes on her as much as possible. One night, after experiencing more of the horrors that is Moonrise Towers, the group decided to turn in for the night earlier than normal. Gale started on making everyone dinner, humming to himself as he prepped the food. Wyll was writing in a journal, documenting their journey so far. Karlach and Lae'zel were sparring. Shadowheart was sitting by the fire, reading a book. And Lillith was sitting on the ground with Astarion on a log behind her. Brushing her hair while she knits another blanket for the group. Despite the Shadowlands being basically all dead, he had found a small patch of wildflowers growing near an abandonded house. He picked a few and placed them into a basket that is now sitting beside him on the log. Once Lilliths long ashen hair was all brushed out, Astarion started to put it into an intricate braid, tying the flowers in as he went. He hated flowers. But something about Lilliths adoration of all things nature had softened him up to them. She would pick a wildflower along the trails they walked and put it behind Astarions ear with a kiss. He thought it only fair to return the favour. After a while, the other companions noticed what he was doing with a big gentle smile on his face. Lillith was none the wiser, just thinking he was helping with her hair as usual.

Halsin approached the couple. "Another blanket Lillith? That's the third one this tenday!" "I just want to make sure everyone is warm enough!" Lillith grinned. The sweetest smile on the Sword Coast. "Just make sure you give your hands a break darling, you can only cast lesser restoration on those muscle cramps so often". Astarion purred. His voice low and soft.

"You worry too much my love, it's hardly any trouble".

Halsin joins the group by the fire, whittling another little wooden duck and stealing proud glances at the couple every so often. Finishing up the braid with a small kiss on Lilliths head, he takes her hand to guide her next to him on the log. She rarely needs assistance despite her lack of sight, but Astarion will always be there anyway to offer a hand. She deserves as much. "Your hair looks beautiful Lils! I love the flowers." Shadowheart said. "Flowers? Wha-" Lillith reaches for the braid to feel the soft petals woven through her hair. They smelled sweet and fresh. Uncommon for the dead world around them.

"Astarion! Where did you find these?" Lillith coos

"Just a little ways away from camp, I can show you if you'd like". "It's a date! I'm very interested in where such fresh blooms could flourish in a place like this" Lillith says sweetly. Everyone has stopped what they're doing to look at the couple.

So much darkness around them, and yet these two have found their light.

[roxyco-deliverygirl]

The only reason you don't like BG3 is because your bad at it

So! My main criticism of Baldurs Gate 3 is the story, for the most part I like the combat (which is the only thing you could be good or bad at) and as for weather I'm bad at the combat

Here's Morgana showing off my 100% achievements, including the foehammer achievement for completing the game in honour mode which is the hardest difficulty.

The overarching story is fine, it's a reason for you to go from point A to point B. You explore act 1 to find a healer for the tadpole, you go to moonrise in act 2 because that's where the tadpoles come from, you go to the city because that's where the Absolute is. It's passable, it does what it has to.

Act 1 is easily the best, all the quests feel like they lead naturally to each other. You have to go to the druids grove, in the grove you get told about the goblin camp and there are 2 ways to learn bout the swamp and a way to learn about the Gith in the mountain pass. And so on. Act 2 feels like it only has 2 or 3 real quests and a few optional boss fights standing like 10 feet apart from each other. Act 3 is better, but it does feel like a single street with dungeons on each side.

Companions are I think the worst, I don't like most of them. Astarion is a piece of shit and the correct choice is to stake him the first chance you get. Gale is honestly quite frustrating, imagine your girlfriend got shot so you decide to get really into building guns, and then get mad when she breaks up with you. Shadowheart has improved since last time I played, her story is like escaping a cult but she does get better across the story. Jaheira and Minsc are from the older balders gate games but in this one they feel pretty shit, Jaheira kills herself in moonrise tower 9 times out of 10, and you can only recruit Minsc on the one time that Jaheira survives. Halsin is alright and I think people getting mad about the bear sex is funny but it's kinda weird how early you meet him compared to when you can actually bring him into your party. Minthara is the same but at least she's an actual evil companion rather than a stupid one like Astarion. The companions I do really like though are Wyll, Karlach and Lae'zel. Wyll and Karlach are genuinly kind and heroic and the way they tie into the main story of act 3 is great. Lae'zel is a similar path to Shadowhearts story of escaping a cult but it's fleshed out so much more and actually has an impact on the larger story with freeing Orpheus.

My least favourite part of the game is the Emperor, he lies to the party constantly for the entire game, says that he's never lied to you, calls you a traitor for looking into other possibilities to save the world and then when you find another possibility he betrays you and joins the evil super brain. What's the point in any of what he did? If joining the absolute was an option that the emperor was willing to consider and go through with, then why was he trying so hard to fight against the absolute? And you can't convince him otherwise, like his plan to eat Orpheus and use that power to go into the final battle is not the only way. One of the options to go into the final battle is to free Orpheus and have a party member become a mind flayer, the only thing you need to succeed is Orpheus and a mind flayer, something we've had the entire time. Why is there no option to get the emperor and Orpheus to work together when that would work? He's a stupid character and I don't like him.

One thing that is a big criticism I have is the choices on what bugs and exploits to fix, over 7 majour patches they've repeatedly failed to fix infinite money exploits. But stuff like the broken elevator in the Shar temple in act 2 is still broken.

I did say that I like the combat, but tactician difficulty makes a lot of it less fun, legendary resistance is a very boring mechanic, a lot of the extra powers that bosses get are usually just frustrating rather than challenging. Mostly it's all right though, it was good to beat it.

Overall Baldurs Gate 3 is like, 6/10

The combat is good, the story and most of the characters are bad.

[unreadpoppy]

down by the river - Chapter 10

Raphael x Warlock!Tav

Read on AO3

Chapter 9

A/N: hey guys it's been forever, I know. My college classes came back and so did my internship, I'm participating in two different plays and just recently did I go back on my medication, so it has been very hard to find some time to sit down and write. This chapter is shorter because of that but I'm glad to have finally updated the story.

It was the last night before they finally attacked Moonrise Towers. 

Everyone in camp was tense, especially after the previous night’s events. Shadowheart, in her path towards becoming a Dark Justiciar, ended up turning away from Shar, and freeing the aasimar Aylin, the source of General’s Ketheric immortality. 

Minthara and Lae’zel both were sharpening their weapons, the drow more tense then the other. Karlach, Gale, Astarion, and Halsin made conversation, leaving Tav and Wyll by themselves. 

The two warlocks sat in one Last Light’s balcony, looking out at the sky. Ever since the Nightsong flew free, it seemed as if the moon shone brighter. Tav had her feet up on the table, Lihala’s lute on her hands,  while Wyll looked down, troubled. 

“You alright?” She asked. 

Wyll looked up and shook his head. “I was just thinking how one’s life can change in an instant.” He looked at her. “Karlach was just a bodyguard when suddenly, she was sold to Zariel. Lae’zel, Minthara and now Shadowheart have all but practically abandoned their gods.” Wyll looked to the sky, closing his eyes. “With a wave of a hand, Mizora turned me into this.” 

Tav nodded, choosing to remain quiet. Her fingers stroked the chords of the lute, playing a familiar tune from her childhood. 

Wyll listened closely, lost in his thoughts. Then, he shook his head. “I never heard that one before.” 

Tav smiled. “It’s an old song from my time. It’s not played as much nowadays.” 

His head tilted, confused, and raised a brow in a silent question. He chuckled “It’s just… you don’t strike me as that old, Tav.” 

She smirked. “I’ve been around much longer than you could imagine, boy.” 

“How old are we talking, then?” 

“Older than Hasin.”

Wyll frowned. 

“It’s part of my contract with Raphael.” She explained, noticing his confusion. “As long as he is around, so will I be.”

“I see.” A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “Doesn’t that worry you? To have your life tied around a devil?”

In the time they had spent together, it wasn’t the first time that Wyll had questioned Tav’s relationship with her patron. 

Tav sighed, putting her lute down and her feet off the table, sitting closer to him. “I understand your worry. We all saw the way Mizora treated you, and I’ll be the first person to help you bring her down. It’s only reasonable you'd be wary of any of the…infernal persuasion.” She smiled kindly at him. “I appreciate your concern, I really do. It shows how much you care about others but… I know what I did when I signed that contract. And I have not regretted that decision since.” 

She leaned back on her chair, taking the lute back. Tav noticed how Wyll’s shoulders slumped and how his brown was furrowed. She wondered what she could do to try and ease his worries. 

Tav looked down at the instrument in her lap and then at her hands. As her fingers once again began to play a familiar melody, a memory came to mind. 

“Let me tell you a story.” 

…

A year had passed since Tav had signed the contract and in that time, she had yet to play her lute again. 

The ink on the contract had not even dried when she felt her hand healing, bone, skin and muscle going back in their places. She felt a relief she had never felt before, and the urge to play once again. 

And yet, whenever she picked up the lute, she faltered. Her hand would begin to shake and then freeze right on top of the strings. It had been so long since Tav had last played, that old voice of self doubt, the one who followed any new artist, was plaguing her mind again. 

‘You can’t do it, it will be terrible, you should just give up and-’

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice brought her back to reality. She turned her head and saw Raphael standing very close to her. 

Tav had decided to go to one of the many balconies in the House of Hope, away from the suffering debtors so that she could play in peace. 

“I was…going to play.” The devil nodded and then took a seat across from her, gesturing towards the instrument. 

“Go on.” He said, making himself comfortable. “Entertain me. I want to see that my fixing of your hand was for a good reason.” 

Tav gulped and her hands began to sweat out of nervousness. She took a deep breath, trying to ease her mind, but the moment her fingers touched the strings again, Tav froze. 

She was transported back to her first performance on stage. Her heart beat loudly, she swore that the audience could hear it. There was an unsteadiness to her legs, as if any wind would take her away. She remembered looking at all those people, staring at her, waiting for her to fail. She had closed her eyes before playing the chords and-

“Tav.” Raphael said sternly. “I gave you an order. You’d be wise to oblige.” 

“I know. Just-” She took a deep breath. “Give me a moment.” 

He raised a brow, leaning back on his chair. “It shouldn’t be this difficult to play, dear. You are a bard, after all.” 

‘You are a bard. You are a bard. You are a bard.’ 

The phrase echoed in her head, almost like a mantra. Her first performance, how had it ended? 

Tav remembered it. Once her fingers began to play, it was as if the music just came out of her. Playing, singing, it was as easy as breathing for her. 

‘You can do this, Tav.’ She told herself as the first notes were played, her voice following after. 

Lace your heart with mine

Let your sleeping soul take flight

Take me through the night

Down, down, down by the river…

Opening her eyes, she looked at Raphael. He had leaned back on his chair, eyes closed and a serene expression on his face. When the song abruptly came to an end, he was quick to question. 

“Apologies. I haven’t finished writing this song. Didn’t get the chance.” She explained, looking down. 

He hummed. “It’s an interesting song. Full of potential for something great. I’d like to see it finished.” Tav nodded, a smile beginning to form on her face. “Now, play something else. Something completed this time.” He leaned again and closed his eyes, just as she began again. 

…

Back to the present, Tav looked at Wyll, reassuring him one last time. “Raphael is not perfect, not by any means. He is a devil, after all.” Wyll huffed at that and she reached forwards, putting a hand on his arm. “But he gave me back the gift of music. He gave me my life. You do not need to worry about me.” 

Tav stood up and left.

…

Ketheric Thorm was dead. 

And with his death, new life was breathed into the shadow cursed lands, the first in a century. Tav smiled as the sun shone on her face, a glowing tree sprouting on where once was nothing. The land would heal. 

The attack on Moonrise Towers had also brought new revelations. The truth about the Absolute had unfolded in front of them. The chosen of the dead three - Orin, Gortash and Ketheric - were in control of an elder brain, and had a planned attack towards Baldur’s Gate, which would have happened if the Apostle of Myrkul hadn’t been brought down. 

With one nether stones in hand, the party had two new targets to strike before they could be rid of the tadpoles for once and all. 

Tav’s mind wandered towards Raphael. Before her infection, her patron had sent her on a mission: Discover what Enver Gortash, the boy who had escaped Raphael’s claws, was up to. She hadn’t understood then what he meant but now, the picture was clearer and many questions had arised. 

Tav had a distinct feeling that very soon she would get her answers. 

[blackjackkent]

Quick camp chats before heading out on the road again. (I'm thinking about making straight for the creche actually, since Rakha definitely thinks it's the most important thing to do right now, and then circling back for final nautiloid map stuff on the way to the Underdark.)

Rakha questioned Gale much more thoroughly about Karsus and the fall of Netheril; even though it happened a long time ago, she's still hungry for any new knowledge, more pieces in her picture of the world. I think this is probably not the last time that he ends up just discoursing to her on some random subject or another; if there's one thing Gale can't resist, it's an attentive student, even if it's one fully capable of ripping his throat out in the wrong moment. He also explained, much to her disappointment, that there's no way she would be strong enough on her own to channel the Weave as they did together - that it requires intense study even for someone with a natural magical gift like her. She's quietly bummed about this; she was taken with the idea of showing it to Wyll.

Having talked to Dammon, we have the option to ask Karlach directly about the engine in camp. She's not willing to give the full story until the Paladins are dead, but does explain that it prevents her from touching anyone and how upset that makes her, that she can't have a hug. Rakha spends a lot of time thinking about this afterwards. She has had sex with Lae'zel and she has had Astarion's weight on her as he sucked the blood at her neck, but beyond this, her experience with physical contact of any sort is... limited. But Karlach's longing for it is obvious. It must be comforting, she decides. Like the blanket of the Weave around her. Like Wyll's hand on her arm was, last night.

Astarion is indignant about Gale's orb: "To think, Gale's had this devastating orb within himself the entire time, and only just mentioned it? Who'd keep a secret like that from his friends? You can't trust anyone these days." It takes Rakha a little while to work out that he is being ironic. His response to the question "What do you think we'll find at Moonrise Towers?" amuses me, because his phrasing feels deliberately calibrated for Rakha specifically: "Who knows? Drow? Mind flayers? Death? Hopefully not ours. But maybe answers, if we can convince the right people to talk." Death and answers are Rakha's two favorite things in the whole world.

Wyll is super cute and kinda shy. "Since the party, I've had a spring in my step, and I've got you to thank." Sadly none of the (positive) dialogue options quite fall in Rakha's blunt conversational wheelhouse, but we'll go with, "It was a lovely evening. I hope we can share even more." Because it's true - talking to him was the best part of the party for her by far. She doesn't fully understand her own feelings, but she is realizing she feels better near him than otherwise. He smiles. "I'm sure we will. And when the time comes... I've got something in mind." He raises a hand to forestall her as she opens her mouth to ask questions. "Now, now - no prodding. You don't want to spoil the surprise. But I'll say this... it'll be worth the wait." The odd sense of pleasant anticipation with which Rakha receives this information is a rather new concept for her. She isn't sure what he means... but she is curious to find out.

He also tells her a little bit about growing up as a Duke's son in Baldur's Gate. Most of his descriptions of court and nobility are somewhat lost on her-- more interesting is his description of the transition into becoming Blade of Frontiers. She asks if it was much of a change. "Yes and no," he answers. "Father taught me the four pillars of power - courage, insight, strategy, justice. He reckoned I'd follow in his footsteps, first as a Fist Marshal, then as a Duke. Vanquish evil, maintain order, save the world. But a duke makes bedfellows with more monsters than he slays. Father called it 'diplomacy'. I called it 'hypocrisy.' In the frontiers, there is no posturing, no diplomacy. I slay monsters; I don't consort with them, even if I might look like one." As usual, Rakha tucks away these foundational tenets of his philosophy to consider for herself. Courage, insight, strategy, justice. None of them mean as much to her as violence, hunger, survival, death. And yet they are, perhaps, something to aspire to, if she should ever learn to control the beast... She wonders about that last statement, though. Wyll claims not to consort with monsters - but he travels with Astarion. He travels with her. He travels with Gale and that bomb in his chest. There are many in their group who could be called monsters. What does he see when he looks at them? Does he see his presence here as just another sort of hypocrisy, deep down?

[melanie-ohara]

My Heart Was Wired in Thorns

Whumpuary2024, Day 03 - Prompt: "Get away from me"

The Dark Urge, Sithla, has her plans interrupted by the Blade of Frontiers

AO3 here

Wyll prodded at the dying embers of the fire with a stick and looked around. Mellephora's meditative trance would be coming to an end soon so they could replace him on watch until morning, but the night was quiet and safe. With the goblins routed and Ethel cut down, Wyll was sure they'd be safe for at least one night - provided no mind flayers showed up to trigger their ceremorphosis up close and personal. He would have forgone watch duty entirely, as Karlach had suggested, but his father's fate was weighing too heavily on his mind. Moonrise Towers was a long hike through the Underdark or over the mountain pass, which would give the Absolute cultists plenty of time to place a wriggling tadpole in his eye…

A flash of movement caught his eye and Wyll looked up from the fire to catch a brief glimpse of silvery blonde disappearing into the treeline. Sithla. Ever since that poor young woman had been slaughtered, Sithla had spent every night bound to a stake Wyll himself hammered into the ground by her bedroll. She insisted on it. He didn't know how she could have freed herself, but it meant something was wrong and he was on his feet before he'd finished his train of thought. He paused before running after her, though - his rapier sat in its sheath on a tree stump a few feet away. If she was armed, and given the collection of blades she kept neatly wrapped next to her pillow he had no reason to believe she wasn't, then he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the gleeful ferocity he'd seen her unleash. In the second it took him to decide, he lost sight of her in the trees. 

*

Sithla heard a twig snap behind her and knew she was no longer alone. She stepped neatly out of sight behind a tree and waited, hoping it was Astarion out on one of the nightly excursions he thought nobody knew about, or Karlach stomping about looking for a place to pee. 

"I suppose you know I'm here, then." 

Sithla pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Why did it have to be him?

"Go back to camp, Wyll," she said, staying behind her tree. If the Blade of Frontiers had any sense, he wouldn't come close enough for her to ambush him.

"Why are you out here?" he asked. His voice came slightly from her left now as he circled, trying to find her in the darkness.

Sithla looked down at the rolled up bundle of fabric in her hands and thought seriously about how to answer.

"Are you going to stop me?" she said, stepping cautiously around the trunk of the tree. Wyll wasn't nearly as stealthy as her, but even with one eye and no darkvision he still had keen senses. 

"I'm not armed," Wyll replied, carefully avoiding answering her question.

"Neither am I." It was true, all the pretty knives she had collected were still at camp, and Wyll had probably already found her swords stabbed into the ground at the treeline. She had hoped the others would recognise it as a warning not to come after her.

"Come now, we both know you don't need a blade to kill." Wyll was close now, honing in on the sound of her voice. 

If it had been Shadowheart or Lae'zel, or Calarisa, she might have let them find her. Any of them would make it easy. And quick. But Wyll would try and talk her down, and because it was him she worried he might succeed. There was still a part of her that wanted to stay with the others and fight this darkness. A part that wanted to live. 

"Get away from me, Wyll," she said. Her voice cracked and she didn't try to hide it. "Please, just get away from me."

She heard a footstep behind her, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Wyll prowled right past her. It was over, then. All she had to do was take a few silent steps up behind him and crack his knee with the heel of her boot. Oh, and then she could have some fun with the handsome little goody-two-shoes. How much force did it take to snap a devil's horns? Would he feel it if she plucked that stone eye out of his skull? Would he see inside her if she swallowed it? So many delicious questions to - 

Sithla forced herself to stop moving. She was already raising her foot to strike when she wrestled control back from the urge inside her and lowered it back to the ground, placing it hard enough that Wyll would hear. She thought he might jump, or rush out of her reach, but instead he turned slowly, like he wasn't afraid. He should be afraid.

"There you are," he said, as if they had just been playing hide and seek. He did take a step back then, but it was to move out of her personal space. He stayed just inside the reach of her arm, and Sithla wasn't sure if he was trying to goad her or reassure her. He hadn't been lying about his sword, and unarmed combat was something that came as naturally as breathing and cutting to Sithla. He wasn't safe where he was standing, and they both knew it.

"I wish you would just go ," Sithla said. It had been a long day, but until now she hadn't felt tired. With Wyll between her and the rest of the forest, though, her limbs ached and her mind fogged with such pure exhaustion that she wanted to just collapse to the ground. "I can't pretend I can do this any more," she admitted quietly.

"Do what, exactly?" Wyll asked. Was he trying to delay her? Sithla wondered if he had brought anyone else with him to track her down. Astarion was probably the only person at camp who could sneak up on her, but Mellephora could put an arrow through her throat without stepping away from the fireside. 

Sithla sighed and turned away from him. Astarion was nowhere to be seen, and no arrows rained down on her. "Why aren't you trying to kill me?" she asked.

"For what?" Wyll asked. She could tell from his voice that he hadn't moved. "For slipping your bonds? Maybe I just didn't tie them properly tonight."

Sithla shook her head. "You're a monster hunter," she said, "and I'm - "

"You are not a monster," Wyll interrupted with a fervour in his voice that stung Sithla so deeply she had to turn around and look at him. "You're not," he repeated. There was determination and sadness written across his scarred face and in his devil-red eye. "Think of all the good you've done."

Sithla scoffed. "The good ?"

Wyll nodded. "Stopping the goblins. Stopping Ethel, saving Mayrina. Saving the grove."

"Not everyone in the grove though, remember?" Sithla snapped. 

"That was - "

"Out of my control?" Sithla glared at him. "You think that makes it better? "

"Sithla," Wyll started, reaching a hand out for her shoulder. 

A wave of something like panic hit her and she shoved him back so hard he almost fell. "Get away from me!" she screamed, loud enough that someone at camp would surely have heard. "You see this?" she demanded, snatching up the cloak from the ground where it had fallen and unfurling it for him to see. "This is a gift . A reward for what I did to that defenceless woman. For slaughtering her."

Wyll frowned as he looked the cape over. There was nothing special to see, Sithla knew - an unremarkable blood red cowl made of plain dyed wool and cotton. Compared to the vile creature that had presented it to her it was entirely ordinary. 

"A gift from whom?" he asked eventually. 

Sithla howled in frustration and tossed the cape into the dirt. "Hells, what does that fucking matter?" she demanded. "I don't want this! I don't want any of it! I feel nothing unless there's blood on my hands, and all I think about is how to kill the people around me."

She fell to her knees when she felt the first tears bite at her cheeks. 

"I thought if I could just get out of range of Shadowheart's bloody artefact, I might just…"

Wyll knelt in front of her, but didn't try and touch her again. She couldn't look in his stupid beautiful eyes because she knew exactly what she'd see there, and pity would break her utterly. 

"Ceremorphosis," he finished for her.

Sithla swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. Mind flayers don't feel guilt. Not like this."

Wyll didn't say anything for a long time. Sithla could hear someone trying to be quiet approaching from camp but didn't look around to see who it was or what they were planning to do. At this point, she didn't care. Either Wyll would let her go or put him down herself, she felt sure of that. The pain of ceremorphosis held more appeal to her, and not just because there was a part of the dark urge that gleefully called out for her own suffering. She deserved to die badly.

Finally, Wyll spoke. "Killing Karlach was supposed to be out of my control." His voice was low now, quiet so only she could hear it.

Sithla sniffed and glanced up at his horns. "And look what it got you," she said. 

Wyll smiled at her attempt to insult him, and not for the first time Sithla thought about killing him. He's not used to the balance of his horns, it would only take a quick throw to put him on his back . This time, she managed to keep her limbs to herself, and resisted the temptation to slam Wyll into the dirt.

"My point," he said softly, "is that you can resist a lot more than you might think. Even if there are consequences."

Sithla shook her head and closed her eyes against another flood of tears. "I don't have the strength for that."

This time when he touched her shoulder she didn't try to stop him.

"You aren't alone in this, Sithla. Every one of us is with you." He paused until she finally looked up into his eyes. " I'm with you," he said. She didn't find pity there after all - instead, there was just trust, belief, and affection. 

With a barely stifled sob, Sithla collapsed into his arms, buried her face into the thickly woven cloth of his shoulder, and cried until there was nothing left.

[anab-starr]

The List of BG3 OC's... so far

Resist-o-Durge: Oona, The Ghost Spider of Bhaal Szarkai Cleric of Eilistraee/Monk

Born of a ritual where an Underdark cult force-fed the flesh of Bhaal to a drider. She was then unceremoniously dumped above ground at the doors of an Eilistraeean church. Oona grew up with love, compassion, and a firm belief in redemption no matter the crime.

When the Slayer came for her, she razed the Church to the ground after murdering everybody inside.

Canon: Loves Gale Besties w/ Shadowheart & Astarion Hasn't killed any of the named drow. Nere, Drouin, Araj, Minty... all safe!

Yes that includes "he's drow enough" Kar'niss. She just knocked him out, dragged him somewhere safe, and left a moonlantern beside him for when he came to.

Crazy Fanon: Has a li'l Gortling daughter. I imagine the reunion would be Gortash bringing her to his office after she gets rid of Orin and being like "I mean you could kill me instead of helping me, but wow that would really upset OUR CHILD." Oona doesn't know this but the baby is exactly what caused her to rethink her Absolute plans. She didn't want to destroy the world for Father anymore, she wanted the world to be worthy of her Gortling! And maybe she could convince bae to just settle for Archduke of Baldur's Gate! She went to Moonrise Towers to talk to Ketheric about her second thoughts since she felt he'd be most apt to listen whether or not he agreed.

And that's when Orin struck.

Next, ANOTHER DURGE!

Embrace the Durge (for now): Edeva the Black Tiefling Rogue/Assassin

I wanted to do a tiefling version of Origin Durge, I just love the creepy white and red look. I don't know her background yet, I just know she has one rule: TIEFLINGS ARE OFF LIMITS. Everyone else is fair game, but when she walked in on Lump the Enlightened eating a tiefling, she went berserk. She also did not allow Lae'zel to be mean to Zorru.

But those Gnolls... were SO COOL.

Anyway, here's what I have of her: Canon: Crushing on Karlach, no besties yet :( unless you count Sceleritas Fel? Does NOT like Raphael, very much scared of him, even though she's the one who gets that good Devil-D in all my RaphxTav fanfics ^^;; Crazy Fanon: She's Orin's #1 hype gal, believes in her art skills, beat the absolute snot out of Sarevok for, as she puts it, "being mean to my girl". I figure, Sarevok is the driving force behind manipulating Orin into replacing Eva as Chosen because the thinks this Absolute Cult stuff is a waste of time and he feels Bhaal has better uses for Edeva.

My very first Tav, Meadowlark High Elf Druid/Circle of Spores

She's a Bard and a Druid, a happy woman with an 8 year old son who was playing with friends when the Nautiloid showed up. She hopes her kid's ok, neither one of them expected her to be kidnapped and tadpole'd. She did send word via the grove that she was alive and getting home ASAP.

She's giving me wicked Mommy vibes, which is why I felt she should have a child already. No romantic prospects at the moment with how badly she mother-hens her companions. She's especially protective of Lae'zel because of the gith's youth and naiveté.

That being said, she's crushing heavily on Barcus Wroot, and she hasn't met fellow druid Halsin yet...

Funny thing is, she's inspired by someone else's character! A long time ago I was in a Dragon Age fanart group on FB and someone created a mage named Meadowlark. The inspo pic the person used was of an absolutely gorgeous Turkish model. When I saw this face mod (Vamperen's Head's 2.0 I believe) I thought "omg that looks like Meadowlark!" and decided to make her a Tav.

Crazy Fanon: Her son is still in Baldur's Gate waiting for her... just not at home... :/

[3xm-draconic]

Memoriam

WARNING character talks about their self-harm.

Mermorium.

Summary: Astarion learns about Cyris’s other tattoos and his scars…and some other secrets…

The ride to moonrise towers was a long and boring one and once they got there they set up camp before they would head in, Astarion laid down with Cyris in his…well their tent now since he and Cyris had kind of…sort of…moved in together.

Astarion was reading one of Cyris’s novels, he collected various old books mostly on romance…and horror. Stories about falling in love and slaying monsters “you have some odd tastes in literature sunshine darling”, “eh…well sometimes I wanna read about a good ol’ fashion love story…and then other times I want to feel the hairs on the back of my neack stand on end” Cyris smiled cheekily “I also have another kind of book for you to read…if you are interested”.

Astarion’s ears perked up “Oh~?” he purred “got something a little different?”, “well…you could call it romance…but…” Cyris sauntered over to a chest and rummaged through it, he then pulled out a strange tome bound in rich dark leather and gilded in gold and gems.

“My, my what is this little thing?” Astarion eyed the lavish tome, “the Kan-Nura’il, 1,001 ways to make…pleasure~” Cyris hummed deviously “my very own copy”.

Astarion’s eyes widened, this book was banned in most of Toril for being…“too obscene”, hells even some drow cities were known to have banned it “the tome of 1,001 positions?, Cyris you devil, I did not know you had such an illegal lewd possession” he gawked “is that where you learned that trick you showed me at the tiefling party?” he smirked.

Cyris chuckled “perhaps we can make it our goal to learn all 1,001 positions before we die?” he handed Astarion the book with a devilish smile…

Astarion then saw his other tattoos, the ones besides the glittering binding-enchantments.

“Cy…I’ve been meaning to ask…what’s the story of your other tattoos? Do they have any?” Astarion pondered, Cyris looked at his body “well..”

He sat down and pulled Astarion close to him, “see the little bats that go around my left wrist? Just under the binding chain? They…represent my family members” he pointed to each of them “my brothers: Eddie, Leo, Anthony and Julius, My sisters: Jessica and Jezebel, my mother: Hanna and my father: Tom”, “and the numbers below them?” Astarion pointed to them, “birthdays…I’ve made sure to never miss one…even if I could never physically be there, I’d be there…” he sighed.

Astarion looked at the sleeve tattoo, “this represents my village” Cyris showed Astarion his arm.

There were bats, lavender flowers and strawberries all wrapped around his right arm in a tapestry of colors and designs “these two I got at the gambling den, Whimbly was mad when I got them…” he laughed.

“What of this one?” Astarion pointed to the one on his chest, “that…that one I…well I got that one when I was 14, when I first started protecting my village, it represents the two gods I serve…served”

“Served? Meaning… you no longer worship them? Who were they?...if you don’t mind me asking” Astarion pondered as she laid on Cyris’s chest, trying to figure out the symbols of the gods.

“I still worship them…I just..I feel like”, “they’ve abandoned you?” Astarion grumbled, “like I’ve abandoned them…like…I’ve turned my back on Yondalla”.

“Yondalla?...Why do you worship a halfling god?”, “I was raised by halflings”, Astarion laughed a little “...oh…oh Gods you're serious aren't you?” he looked into Cyris’s eyes, not a hint of sarcasm was to be found in them.

“S…sorry” Astarion murmured, “no, it’s alright, I get that you didn’t believe me and understand where you're coming from starry, you prayed to the gods…and none answered…well” Cyris looked into his eyes “I prayed for a long, long time too…”

Astarion smiled slightly “ok, the cornucopia I get…but the bat wings with moons and stars in them? Who does that represent?”, “a local deity in my village, Great Guardian Bat, it’s through him I am blessed with sanguinethropy” Cyris said “he is a guardian of twilight, of night, of stars and of the moons. He guides the lost through the night, helps protect the harvest and defends those who are kind to his children, the bats of sanguinewood". 

Cyris chuckled “halfling aren't particularly religious folk but my village does take time to venerate our ancestral spirits and the spirits of nature who provide for us, there is a small temple in my village we built to the bat totem, really just a little shack where bats can go to roost and be safe, eat the offerings and generally be pampered by the clerics” Cyris smiled “I use to go there and just…hang out with them…just be around the bats…it felt…different than when I was with my family”.

“How?” Astarion pondered, “perhaps because I am…in a sense half-bat…it felt like I was with…kindred…with extended family”, Astarion laughed a little “do you feel that way with me? Vampires being…sort of bats and all?” he hummed, Cyris smiled “I do starry, it’s nice to have someone like me…even if you aren’t a werebat…you are kindred to me” he smiled and kissed the vampire’s cheek lovingly.

Astarion couldn’t help but smile, it was nice to have kinship with another creature of the night, even if they were not the same creature.

Astarion’s fingers brushed against Cyris’s skin, the sensation of rough, callus, scarred skin caused him to worry “Cyris…how did you get these?...they don’t look like battle scars…” he said as he looked at the long, thin, almost uniform slices down Cyris’s inner-forearm.

Cyris was quiet… “Starry…I…I’am going to tell you something…about me…” his voice was low, pained and unsure “something…I don’t know how..you will react to..say, I haven’t told anyone about this…” he sighed.

“You know how I feel no pain or guilt for killing?...well I feel…” he trailed off, “Cyris?...” Astarion held his hand.

“There is an emptiness in me…a void…a great black pit inside me…I feel it starry…” he rasped, his voice was almost unrecognizable “it…it…hurts…it hurts so much…the pain of this…ever consuming…nothing…in me”

Cyris held his face in one hand and gently squeezed Astarion’s in the other  “it won't go away…no matter what I do IT WON’T GO AWAY!” he cried “I drink till I pass out and the pain is still there, I get high off every drug know in Faerun and its still there, I get my brains fucked out and…and still nothing…I…Iam still empty…still hollow” he lookes into Astarion’s eyes, the deep ruby gems are wide with consurne.

“So…the only thing…that makes it go away, the only thing that takes the hollow pain away…is a different kind of pain” Cyris swallows hard “I cut…I cut into myself so that I FEEL SOMETHING besides the nothingness…the thing eating me inside…”

Astarion…had no idea what to say…what to do…

There were times Cazador had made him feel so empty inside that…

“Don’t…Don’t do…don’t hurt yourself…EVER…please darling…” Astarion felt mad, not at Cyris but at the situation, there had to be a way to help him.

“There has to be a better way…sunshine whenever you feel this…emptiness overwhelming you, come to me…we will sit right here, talk, I’ll brush your hair and we will find a way to fill this void of yours together…without spilling anymore of your sweet, delicious blood” Astarion hugged him tightly “I never want to see you hurt yourself again, there are better ways of…coping”

Cyris sobbed “but…what if nothing works starry? What if…?”, “do you still feel empty? Has the nothingness crept in since joining our little party of misfits?” Astarion whispered to him, “...no…and yes…” Cyris sniffled “it…comes and goes…like flashes…I haven’t had time to…to really deal with it since we’re nearly getting killed all the time” he mumbled.

“Then we will make time…remember we are in this together darling” Astarion paused… “I…I’ve seen your scars…you’ve told me their history…” Astarion pulled away from Cyris and began to take off his shirt “I…it’s time I show you mine…” 

“Hells starry…” Cyris softly cried as he gently brushed his hand over Astarion’s back, “Cazador always did love a good poem…” Astarion hissed, “Poem?” Cyris said, confused “Starry this ain’t no poem…I…I know what it is I just can’t read it” Astarion turned to him, panicked “w-what are you talking about?”

Cyris got out a scroll of parchment and a stick of charcoal and began to draw…something…something…infernal.

“HELLS…” Astarion’s voice cracked, “Whimbly made deals with devils all the time…I don’t know exactly how to read infernal properly but…I…I cam make out a few words” Cyris said as he read over the drawing.

“Well?”, “Oh…great mephistopheles…700,000 souls of spawn…to become prince of shadows…ascendant” Cyris mumbled out “that's all I can read Darlin”.

Astarion’s mind swirled “w-what could this mean?”, “nothing good…” Cyris said as he pulled out more books, “w-what are you doing?”, “I..I’am calling an old…well let’s call him a “friend” for help on this”.

Cyris whent away from camp with Astarion in toe, he brought with him a little black book, a knife, some candles, a bowl and salt “Darling…?”, “it’s alright…I’ve…called him before…mostly for…nevermind”.

Cyris lit the candles, cast a ring of salt, cut his hand and let it bleed into the bowl… he then performed a dark incantation…        

“Mmm Hmm~ I  wasn’t expecting to hear from you loverboy~” a handsome cambion man cood from the reflection in the bowl, “LOVERBOY!?...Cyris…who…Who the hells is this?!” Astarion shrieked, “Starry…this..this is my ex…Raphael.” 

[theurgic-necromancer]

"You still look like death warmed up."

You look to the doorway and see Jaheira standing there, arms folded over her chest and leaning against the frame. Her expression is somewhere between sympathetic and stern, like she can't seem to decide whether to try a gentler approach or not.

You let out a huff of a laugh despite yourself. "I'm not going to lie, I've felt like death pretty much since I woke up."

Jaheira huffs and shakes her head. "That's what you get for sleeping for over a century."

"Funny how no one ever tells you about those particular side effects," you quip.

"Most people who resort to necromancy to avoid death tend to prefer being awake for the whole process," she counters.

"Most people aren't trying to trick a god of death into thinking they're dead."

She snorts. "It seems to have worked out well enough, at least."

You make a noncommittal noise, before flopping back onto the bed. "Hey, Jaheira? How did Imoen die?"

Jaheira sighs. You hear her close the door and walk over to the bed. She carefully takes a seat next to you. Despite how spry she seems for her age she's still about 150 years old, by your reckoning. She's not the same young woman you once knew.

Neither of you are the same as you remember.

"It was on some big celebration day in Baldur's Gate," she says. "She was to give a speech. Probably would have been her usual three sentences, maximum. But… she didn't have a chance to finish it before one of your brothers showed up."

Your eyes widen. "Someone else was still…?"

"From the description, it was that one we met back in Saradush. The one you cast that fear-inducing spell on."

"Viekang," you say. He'd wanted to escape from the besieged city before it fell, but the only way he could was to use his latent teleportation abilities. But he could only teleport in a moment of fear or panic, and Amelyssan—may she rot—had made it so he couldn't feel fear.

You've always wondered if she'd done so in order to ensure he'd be there when Saradush fell. So he could be slaughtered alongside everyone else.

"That was the name," Jaheira says. "Based on the reports, he attacked Imoen. She tried to fend him off. There was a fight…" She sighs, gaze drifting towards the ceiling. "No one knows who won and who lost. All anyone knows is that when the dust cleared… the Slayer was the only thing left standing."

Your blood runs cold. "Wait, what do you mean the Slayer…"

"Bhaal has returned," Jaheira says, bluntly.

You sit up, ignoring the pain that shoots through your still-healing injuries. "You're lying."

"You're the last one standing, Sayran," she says. "His avatar has been popping up here and there for the past decade, and I know you weren't the one responsible for those appearances. You're the last one left."

You shake your head, feeling the blood drain from your face. "That's… That can't be right. Th-There's…" You place your head in your hands as your view begins to swim. "It should have been destroyed. He shouldn't have been able to…" You let out a shaky breath, fighting back tears. "Why did I have to be right?"

"You always were too clever for your own good," Jaheira says, placing a hand on your back.

You laugh despite yourself. "Well, I'm not as clever as I used to be. So maybe that's a blessing in disguise."

"What do you mean?" Jaheira asks, suddenly on guard. "Is it because of the—"

"It's not the tadpole," you say. "When I woke up, I… my head was so fuzzy, and I could barely think straight. Still feels fuzzy, no matter how much I try to rest." You sigh. "I think my little magical coma may have… caused some damage. Damage that may not be… fixable." Jaheira's hand remains on your back. She's silent for a very long moment. When she finally does speak, her tone is remarkably gentle.

"Are you sure you're capable of tackling this business at Moonrise Towers?"

"It's not like I have a choice," you point out. "Just like when I had to track Irenicus across the Underdark. Just like when I had to fight him in Suldanesselar. And when I had to fight him in Bhaal's own fucking domain."

Jaheira sighs. She rubs your back, the most affection she's ever shown anyone other than her husband in all the time you've known her.

"I apologize for dragging you into the middle of things in such a manner," she says. "There is something I wanted your help with, but I had hoped… well, I'd hoped the timing would have been more favorable. I didn't expect you to get kidnapped, nor that I would be stuck out here for as long as I have been."

"That's just the way of things though, isn't it?" you say, lifting your head just enough to look at her. "No matter how simple the task may look on the surface, there's always about a million different complications just waiting to be sprung."

Jaheira laughs. There's a bitter edge to it. "You'd think I'd have figured that out after a century of this, wouldn't you? You're too right, though." She pats your back. "You're here now, and we all just have to make do with the hand we've been dealt."

"Story of my life," you say with a sigh.

"Please try to take it easy, though," Jaheira says. "You do genuinely look ill, and I'd rather you not drop dead so soon after coming back."

"I'll try," you shrug. "But it's not like I can afford to sit still and rest for very long."

Jaheira sighs. "Of course. When this is over, I expect you to actually take some time to rest." She gives a bit of a grin. "And I might have a good idea for where you might be able to stay. It's not another Harper hideout, I assure you."

"Is it in a grove somewhere?"

"No, actually." You raise an eyebrow. "It's in Baldur's Gate. I'll show you once we get there."

"You, holing up in a city?" You grin. "Now I've seen everything."

She waves a hand dismissively. "It will make sense when you see it. For now, though, we have other things to worry about. So let's focus on getting out of here alive first."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

[elvhenmage]

fucking hell, the night i’ve had with bg3. i got into act two and shit just kept fucking happening 😭

two feet off the elevator basically and i meet elminster, who eats my cheese and drinks my wine and then tells gale mystra wants him to kill himself

try to tell gale we could find another way to deal with the absolute’s heart; falls on mostly deaf ears

the entire party basically said fuck mystra, we love gale

^ all except halsin, who had no opinion but did come onto me for the second time since we met

fought some shadows with the harpers, had gale come onto me via talking about smutty literature. immediately put on edge at having to reject him soon

get to the last light inn, meet jaheira and the tiefling kids again. meet his majesty!!! see raphael sitting against a window. find rolan drinking about his potentially dead siblings. immediately leave in search of dammon instead

find dammon. updates karlach’s quest (she is NOT looking good). go back to camp to get karlach; long rest

long rest brings mizora. UGH. she wants us to save some devil from moonrise towers. tell her she has to release wyll from his pact if we do. she repeatedly calls him a dog before disappearing

check in on everyone again. wyll thanks me for sticking his neck out for him (💖). karlach says wyll’s happiness is her happiness (🥺). astarion wants to find raphael to talk about his scar (😥).

go to sleep. surprise dream visitor visit in the most revealing outfit i could’ve possibly imagined. completely caught off guard the entire scene bc i thought he also was going to try to make a move on me

still no gale confession scene. still a black cloud above me

go back to last light. talk to dammon, get karlach on the road to recovery (still have to find infernal iron). talk to the strange ox again - it shows me mountains of dead bodies. makaria relates to the ox as she’s dealing with the dark urge. decide to leave the ox alone (for now)

go talk to raphael and mol. help mol win the game. both gale and astarion are now inspired :) but raphael says he’ll find us later to talk more about astarion’s request :(

go back to camp. have a few chats - astarion says he “respects my killing instinct” and that i should consider taking control of the power the tadpoles have instead of getting rid of it

tell him NO THANK YOU. please do not say that to me. he scoffs me off but otherwise doesn’t actually disapprove of my answer, so hopefully uh… i haven’t locked anything in wrt That yet

long rest again. still expecting to get gale’s confession, but — THE BUTLER? cue me pounding my fist on the table

he goes through his schtick. wants me to kill the last light cleric bc i “haven’t been disinherited yet” and i have to “feed the Urge” or else who knows who i may kill next?? rudely brings up alfira. fucks off into the night

realize it’s like 11:30pm and i should go to bed. STILL never got gale’s confession, if i’m going to get it at all, which i hope i don’t but i’m sure i will

this has been, by far, my most eventful session to date. holy hell

[tealfling]

It's All About Timing.

Couldn't help myself:

Gale x Zephyr + Amaranth x Astarion

Angsty fluff, a little innuendo, mentions of Gale's explosive choice

Act 2, just before Moonrise, post both confessions, immediately after Gale's "last night" (with Zephyr)

"It's about time you showed up---my, my Gale, you look positively disheveled." Astarion's frustration quickly turned to a devilish tease when he noticed the wizard's messed hair and unaligned shirt clasps as the human walked into light of the fire. "Got into a little chaos last night, did we?" Astarion hummed, wiggling his white eyebrows.

Gale blushed, smoothing his hair back, deciding to look anywhere but that other man in the eye. He was hoping everyone was still in bed, even out of the Shadow-Cursed Lands the hour wouldn't be near dawn yet. Of course of all the people to run into at this time, it just had to be Astarion. The man hadn't been out at this hour in weeks, having taken to following his own tiefling partner, the group leader Amaranth, around like a shadow. Yet, here he was, seemingly alone. This wasn't a walk of shame, Gale reminded himself. Anything but honestly. Still, he was more private about certain intimate personal matters than some others at camp. His night time bedmate for one, he was glad he'd sent her back first. "I, uh, we--" Gale started.

"Oh, you don't have to make excuses for me. I can smell her still soaked into your beard all the way over here," goaded Astarion walking around the campfire. Gale ran his hand over his beard, as if the futile attempt would get rid of the evidence. It didn't sit well with him that another man could smell that part of her. Astarion quipped, "I didn't think you had it in you." He waved over a hand before crossing his arms with a cheeky grin.

Gale pinched his eyebrows. "Oh, I have a lot in me that you don't know about. There are things I could do that you couldn't even dream of." The other man scoffed at that, but Gale continued, "One doesn't come away from being the lover of a goddess without a few tricks up their sleeve not limited to the material plane."

Astarion fully rolled his eyes turning to the fire, thinking he'd triggered a boastful tangent of Gale's. "I wouldn't bring that up so much anymore, if I were you." He wasn't sure why he'd said it, but the words slipped out. "Not if you wish to continue your new flesh fumblings." Did he want to rain on the wizard's parade? Bring him back down a peg? Or had the past few days of emotional openness with Amaranth taken his guard down enough to let them through?

"What?" Gale asked, not following Astarion.

"The goddess thing," Astarion clarified, not looking away from the fire. "No one in camp is as confident in themselves as Zephyr is, well, maybe Lae'zel, even if being deemed a traitor to her people has shaken her resolve lately," he added. "But not Zephyr, who somehow manages to see her magical outbursts as a ‘quirky feature’ instead of a flaw. And then you say something foolish like that and I can almost hear her heart drop. She probably imagines she can never fill the goddess size hole in your eyes or your heart, and then she walks around camp all mopey, and that makes Amaranth all sad." Astarion’s words trailed before he turned to Gale snapping, "So if you could just keep the comments to yourself, that would be great."

Gale sank down on a log. He ran his hand through his long brown hair and sighed. Was all he could offer Zephyr misery? Finally, he said, "I had it all planned out, you know?" Astarion's ears perked as he allowed Gale to continue. "Ever since Elminster told me what Mystra bid me do with the orb, I have resigned myself to the fate Mystra said was mine. With the view of Moonrise Towers looming over us," Gale waved his arms as he spoke throwing a hand in the direction of the tower. "I have spent the last several days thinking about how I wanted to spend my last night alive. How I wanted to spend my last hours in her presence. Working up the courage to tell her how I truly feel. The charm Elminster placed on the orb would have allowed me to wow her, to show her a glimpse of what I was capable of before, to allow her to feel things only the gods should know. To give her something to remember me by, but she didn't want it," his voice cracked. "She said she wanted me. The man. I don't know the last time someone saw me as just a man and been satisfied with that alone. At times, even I wasn't satisfied with myself unless it had to do with what my magic was capable of, growing my power. That's how I wound up in this predicament to begin with. It had been so long since I've been with a mortal. But with her?" He exhaled deeply, "How can the night stand so still and yet be over in an instant? I always thought I'd have centuries to accomplish the things I wanted. Now? I’m forced to count the minutes until it's over. For the past year, I've seen my last days rushing towards me and have been mentally preparing to leap into its void. Sometimes perhaps too eagerly than I care to admit. Now at it's precipice, I can't help but pause. Knowing that if I looked back I would see her, knowing that she wants me to live, as I am, and the hurt I would cause her if I followed through as Mystra wishes. Zephyr made me care again. About her and her happiness. About the rest of you and your lives. I want to see it all through. I don't want to die. I want to live."

Gale's admission was said less like a prayer and more like a wish he didn't think would come true. A feeling Astarion was all too familiar with. He looked over Gale. A man with an unfathomable decision to make. Comforting others was not something Astarion was good at, having never really done so before. He didn't know what words to say. There was no script to follow here. But he did understand Gale's hesitation and how a sudden new spark of hope made him question everything he thought he knew about his very existence.

A small breathy chuckle escaped Astarion. Gale scowled, "Something funny?"

Astarion spoke softly, not realizing the small smile that crossed his lips. "Just thinking about how good those damnable little tieflings are at ruining plans. They just waltz into your life with their fiendish little grins and their infernal silver tongues, looking like devils, acting like angels, then suddenly everything is different."

"Is that why you're out here instead of pretending to hide in whichever tent you have Amaranth stashed in? Surely, you didn't intend to wait here to hear me wallow in my own self pity? Or was there something else you wanted?" Gale asked with his own smile.

Abruptly remembering his original intent, Astarion blushed, his ears twitching. "I want you to help me make breakfast." He meant to sound more demanding, but embarrassment took hold at the last second.

Gale looked almost as shocked as the vampire. "You want to cook breakfast?"

"Not for me. For Amaranth," he bit.

"Amaranth?" Gale asked, confused. "She's arguably a better cook than I am."

"It's ugh..." Astarion wrung his hands together, feeling a bit guilty for what he was about to admit. "There isn't exactly anything for me to, ahem, hunt in the Shadow-Curse so Amaranth's been using her magic to graciously allow me to, um, double dip," he said looking up for a moment. He continued heatedly, "She says she's fine after, but there's no way losing that much blood doesn't take a toll on the body regardless of how much 'restorative' magic one uses ."

Gale watched Astarion ramble. It was more obvious than ever the vampire deeply cared for the tiefling cleric. Such a thoughtful simple gesture. Something that wouldn't have crossed Astarion's mind when they first met, but here he was, up before the crack of dawn fretting over breakfast. Now it was Gale's turn to laugh. For him, gestures could never be grand enough, but maybe now that he was currently with mortals more he could focus on the smaller things before allowing himself to be crushed by the grand schemes of others.

“Well, I guess we should get started then,” Gale sighed.

Astarion spat, “Ew, gods, no. Not until you've washed up. I don’t want her food contaminated with any of your personal additions.”

"Good morning, Starshine, " the soft voice of Amaranth interrupted their discussion. Astarion whipped around as she rubbed her still tired eyes. "Oh, good morning, Gale," she said sleepily when she noticed the wizard slumped in front of the log. "What are you two doing up this early?" Even through her indigo skin the dark under eye circles were prominent.

"Darling! What are you doing up? You should be resting!" Astarion snapped. He immediately stormed over to Amaranth.

Gale could tell the edge in the vampire's tone was a product of concern more than his normal venom. "Astarion asked me to help him make breakfast for you," Gale answered with a small smile.

It could have been a trick of the light, but it looked like Astarion's ears might have gotten a little more flush than normal at the comment. Gale smirked, having flustered the other man. Not something he was aware could be done, but now that he knew how, he most certainly would again.

"Awe, you're making me breakfast?" Amaranth's face lit up as she leaned in to hug Astarion. It took a moment for him to settle into it, but he embraced her as well.

"You need to go back to bed," he reiterated.

She nuzzled into him as carefully as she could, her ram curved horns not allowing her to press her cheek against him like she clearly wanted. "I couldn't sleep. My brain wouldn't let me. You were gone and I was thinking about the best way to handle Moonrise and--"

Astarion cut her off, "Then I think you should take another day to rest, and regain your strength so that clever little brain of yours can think clearly, my dear. Half the others were up all night too, they would probably appreciate the extra respite."

Amaranth pulled back alarmed, "Who? What's wrong with the others?"

Her lover smirked, casting a side glance at Gale. "Well, as usual Wyll stayed up late drinking away his daddy issues. Lae'zel is lamenting her career choice. Gale spent all night stuffing his Weave into Zephyr, who can barely contain her own--she's probably a potted plant somewhere right now. And Shadowheart is likely wondering if you forgot you promised to bring her back to finish the Gauntlet."

Realization washed over Amaranth and her tail straightened, "I DID forget about the trials! I--" Again she was cut short.

"You also didn't catch my innuendo about Gale. That's how I know you're too exhausted to carry this team to the heart of the absolute today," he chided. "Now, be a dear and head back to bed right now, or I will carry you there myself."

Amaranth's face was on Gale's. Clearly she was trying to work out what she missed that Astarion said. Slowly he saw her put the pieces together and her little knowing grin crawled across her cheeks. He averted his gaze, hiding his face with his fist and coughed. She would tease him later about it, no doubt after she extracted a very detailed retelling of events from Zephyr.

Thinking that was quite enough of her gazing in Gale's direction, Astarion lifted Amaranth up in the princess carry she hated. When she tried to wriggle free, he said, "Now Darling, if you had just been a good girl and gone back on your own it wouldn't need to be this way. It seems I need to tuck you in myself for you to get any rest before breakfast." Over his shoulder he said to Gale, "Give me a moment, it appears I need to put our leader to bed myself like a brat, before she leads us all to our impending doom."

"Don't worry about it," Gale said, watching them leave. Amaranth playfully protested, but her tail eagerly wrapped around Astarion's middle. A tiefling's tail telling sign of affection. Breakfast be damned. There was another tiefling he wanted to wrap himself around again. Especially when Astarion had essentially given him another day to do so. Gale stood, dusting off his pants. "Like you said, I could use a bit of respite myself. I think we should all wander off to Last Light for a meal when everyone is up and about." Astarion nodded in agreement, his attention now on cuddling the person in his arms until they drifted off again.