#bg3 ansur

[voltaical-art]

do you guys ever think about how Wyll is introduced as an archetypal fantasy hero, but then it turns out he’s a warlock, who made a pact with a devil. Do you ever think about how Ansur is described as this fantastical dragon of myth, but then when you find him, he’s turned into an undead monstrosity. Do you think about how when Wyll does the right thing, he is punished to become more monstrous. Do you think about how as Wyll’s warlock powers grow, his spells get more horrific. Do you think about how Ansur was killed by his closest friend. Do think about how Wyll was cast out by the most important person in his life. do you guys ever think about Ansur and Wyll.

[jeeaark]

Somebody theorized that the dream guardian was Ansur-inspired that I thought was cool, but what REALLY had me go 'WELL SHIT NOW I CAN'T NOT DRAW THIS' was realizing- you know those big beautiful glowy green eyes I gave my guardian (that totally made no sense besides looking really cool)? Same color as Ansur's.... Emps. Buddy. why you gotta be so extra tragic????

Why wish your guardian to have purple eyes when your guardian could have ANSUR'S EYES FOR ANGST REASONS HUAH!

+~So that's what I was hyped to share~+ Besides that, I think Ansur's story helped Greygold realize that the Emperor is just as much a messy mess as everybody else in this feral fiasco of a team.

And even though "There's always another way" Greygold can't fathom the idea that death was the "only choice" to stop Ansur, Greygold can't judge for trying to survive.

But it's fine now. Greygold is here. Gonna have so many more choices to choice now. Gonna sort out this 'no choice' nonsense after saving the world.

[notsohappynotsosad]

Idea stolen from @madmedicinecat

[asurth]

Dear Ansur,

[darlinelf]

Hey guys, ive been wanting to get a baldurs gate 3 tattoo for a while now and i finally did it. It felt most fitting to get the heart of the gate because the game really does have my heart.

I present to you, Ansur The Heart Of The Gate.

[han-ban-bam]

so guess what quest I diiiiiid. This is my emotional journey.

[bigmfrat]

I can not believe that this is actually a cutscene in the game and I'm not even joking

[abdeladrian]

when it comes to balduran/the emperor and ansur i think its a really interesting sort of tragedy no matter how you interpret their relationship and the nature of what happened.

because there's something to once being a hero so renowned that a home to thousands is in your name. and having a companion so dear that they'd kill you to preserve You, but also having changed so much against your will from that hero and that friend they knew and having to come to terms with it (maybe also against your will).

and being a survivor in the long run and being saved time and time again and being used and using back. of coming back home and infiltrating and taking power and being captured and used to hurt when you used to help. of running and manipulating and attempting to do the same trust-build-seduction method you once used with someone new, and trying to convince this person to become like you. because at this point you've lost the ability to feel your feelings

we obviously by nature of its character cant tell when the emperor is lying, telling the truth, or being sincere but i also like really don't like the idea of intrinsic evilness so sometimes i want to take him at face value. we have examples of a mind flayer having genuine companionship (omeluum) alongside having a purpose that lets them live a life separate from the grand design, and i fear having ansur was perhaps the only reason the emperor ever got to be free. not just physically but mentally.

because balduran went sailing one day because he missed it and never came home. ansur fought to find him and was too late. y'know. and like. how heartbreaking is that? that ansur who loved and protected and promised to keep balduran's city safe… made a promise that became a prison. to love so wholly that he wanted to preserve his partner even when his partner gave up and told him to leave and keep his memory as the thing that mattered. how heartbreaking for balduran to have killed him in self defense and then built him a tomb where he could rest? that no one would disturb him? how famous the love was that his promise to protect became legend? the last wish he ever had? that the only way to wake him was to pass a gauntlet to prove your worth? while recording praises for their partnership?

like forgive me but i don't think creating an elaborate tomb to protect ansur's final resting place is a lack of feeling. ansur made a promise that became a prison that became a legend. his legacy was love. and he recognized balduran from feeling alone and got to see him again, for what its worth. the emperor will always be ansur's balduran.

also we see ansur in his dragonborn form. not controversial i hope but they were more than friends! ansur i'm sorry king. your husband became calamari and unrecognizable. and when he accuses balduran of thralling the player, which we can refute, and ansur just stops to Look only for balduran to break the silence by RECITING THE LETTER? DEAR ANSUR? AND THAT'S WHAT DRIVES ANSUR TO ATTACK?

nevermind the fact that you can't make the dream guardian a dragonborn. and the armor it wears is awfully similar to ansur's in his humanoid form. balduran never forgot ansur. i think balduran-as-the-emperor in dream guardian form not taking a form like ansurs but still keeping that armor, still speaking ansur's words and acting out his intents when promising the player protection and care, is evidence that ansur lived in him still. even through the layers of the loss of identity that was him becoming a mind flayer.

ansur was the heart of the gate. and it's baldur's gate. he's balduran's heart. his heart. ansur lived in him. it was a promise that became a prison that became a legend. his legacy was love

[itsiitsu]

Song of Balduran

[nevermindigotthis]

[voltaical-art]

some warmups from the other day, thinking abt these 2

[jeeaark]

I have something that my brain is like "Hey, this is an Ask!" So let's do this! Did Greygold ever encounter Ansur? How would they respond to him making his very (very) messy breakup their problem? Especially with most of the pre-fight being Ansur and Emps using the inside of their head to bicker like an old (very bitterly divorced) married couple.

Hell yeah they did! Had this Ansur of a question (hweh) pre-prepared~

And bonus:

Greygold had one million questions for the Emperor.

Now Greygold has two million!

[rat-rambles]

If I had a nickel for every time there were tragic gays in bg3 where one is a dragon leading the other to rule the city and the other is a human with a crazy ego whose ambitions lead to there tragic ends I would have two nickles which isn't a lot but it's werid it happened twice

[xdraonarts]

au where the emperor has someone willing to accept it as a person during the Ansur fallout and also my tav is a fish person bc i suddenly have merfolk on the brain.

bonus goofy addition under the cut

[notsohappynotsosad]

A little follow up to my last comic. Thank you @tea-and-magic for idea!

[inaconstantstateofchange]

BG3 AU where Wyll's self-sacrifice in saving Baldur's Gate – from cultists of Tiamat, the queen of evil dragons, no less – at great personal cost creates the barest beginnings of a bond to the still-slumbering Ansur. After all, that stymied, accumulated draconic power would have had to dissipate somewhere, and would it not make sense for it to be drawn to the lodestone of a necrotic-energy suffused dracolich?

It would give Ansur a bit of a jolt toward waking, but not enough to bring him to full awareness. The part of him that remained curious, and hopeful, and mourned its lost connection to a bright spark of mortal devotion and nobility – in retrospect, lost to him perhaps even before Balduran’s transformation – latched on to that new path, following it to its end in the brilliant, marred soul of Wyll Ravengard.

After everything, after his father returns to the city, and Wyll... leaves it, he dreams. There’s a different, recognizable creature every time. It starts very small, a little fish in a pond he finds himself sitting by. He is tired and worn from keeping up his mask of careful good cheer, and his body aches from the scuffles it has been forced into. Mizora seems to get some entertainment from sending him after quarry just slightly above his level, or with not enough information to prepare himself adequately. He is learning quickly, but never quite quickly enough, it feels. Here, in this dreamscape, his eye socket still aches, but it is comfortingly empty of the stone that sits within in in the waking world, its chilling weight reminding him always of his mistress’s leash.

He trails his fingers within the pond, and the little fish darts away, a flash of blackened bronze scales. He can’t blame it; he’d hide from himself if he could, too. He says as much to the little creature, and fancies it moves a little closer to the entrance of its little hiding hole. Charmed, and encouraged by the thought that, after all, who else could he possibly speak to about any of this, he settles back against a small outcropping of rock alongside the pool, leaving his fingers bobbing gently in the water, but letting his eyes close and his attention wander.

He tells the little thing about his most recent quest — he likes to call them such sometimes, in the privacy of his own mind, because it lets him pretend that they are anything as glamorous and heroic as the future he dreamed for himself, Before. Even more privately, he draws a mental distinction between the quests he is allowed to take on of his own volition, and the jobs that Mizora sends him on, to further her own unknowable ends. Thus far, they don’t seem to have been anything too horrible, but he fears that such will not always be the case. What can he do about it, however? This was his bargain for the lives of every resident of the Gate, and his own acts at Mizora’s direction have not even come close to outweighing that number.

He is broken from this too-familiar thought spiral by a distinctly unfamiliar – and unexpected – brush of scales against his fingertips. He starts, briefly, but keeps his calm, and merely cracks open his eyes to look down at his little friend. It is poised to dart back into its crevice at the slightest motion, and he smiles down at it, keeping his fingers as still as he can.

“Have no fear — I will make no attempt at you, I swear it. At least one of us ought to be free.”

The little fish makes one last brush against his outstretched hand before darting away again. He fancies it swims with less frantic caution, this time, and counts it a victory enough. When he wakes, soon after, the memory of the strange dream does not fracture apart in the way of most dreams, but seems to tuck itself away, coming to the forefront of his mind only when directly called upon.

[Now with Part 2] [and 3]