#chaoticbard

[apalestar]

@chaoticbard for a plotted modern verse starter.

For once Astarion found himself off the roster for tonight’s entertainment. He didn’t need to dress in his attire prepared specifically for him to dance on the pole. To show himself off for the crowd. No, the master, Cazador wanted him on the floor serving drinks.

The nightclub portion of the complex to hold a musical accompaniment for the guests. Tickets paid in advance. The stage accounted for. The establishment brimming with idiots soon to be parted from their coin on the casino machines and expensive menu items. The Palace cantered to an upper middle class and above clientele. Cazador didn’t suffer the uncouth. Except the illicit murders committed behind closed doors, but the guests were unaware about those.

Astarion sauntered across the floor from table to table. Serving the orders and presenting himself with a smile. Tomorrow he would be back on the menu as it were. Expected to provide the ‘nightly service’ in his chambers.

He noticed her on the stage. The Dragonborn meant to serve as the opening act to the more popular band advertised. She was a rare sight even somewhere as metropolitan as Baldur’s Gate. Her musical number faded into the background. Astarion’s attention drawn elsewhere. He was always watching the spawn.

His shift passed off to another. One of the mortal sycophants that worshiped the ground Cazador stepped on. Behind all the throbbing bass of the music and the roar of the gambling crowd lie a tucked away hallway. Here housed the spawn who served as courtesans in the Palace. Their rooms sectioned off not for their benefit for the purpose of serving others with their bodies.

Each door with a keypad off to the side. Only by interacting with it did the door open. Astarion took residence near the end of the long hallway. All the noise from the casino and club muted here. Barely audible.

He hoped for a rather quiet evening to trance. Perhaps indulge in one of his vices.

[harpershigh]

"Jaheira, you're like the cool grandmother I never had. I hope I'll be as amazing as you when I'm older."

Jaheira blinked, momentarily taken aback by Alaara’s words, but her expression quickly softened into something warm and genuine. “The cool grandmother, am I?” she said with a small, amused smile. “You’ve certainly found a way to flatter an old Harper.”

She paused for a beat, then added gently, “And you’ll be more than amazing, Alaara — of that, I’ve no doubt.” Her gaze lingered on the dragonborn, a touch of curiosity sparking in her eyes. “But… it makes me wonder. What was your family like, if I may ask? I suspect you didn’t need a grandmother like me to make you the strong soul you’ve become.” Her tone was light, simply an open invitation to share if Alaara wished.

[whomuses]

"A fellow Dragonborn? Uncommon. And always a pleasure to meet because of it."

Alaara looked at the other appraisingly. White scales undercut with ruby red. Could he breathe fire or did he breathe something else? He was well-built; slightly taller than her and muscular enough... His horns were well-kept and decently ferocious... But she hadn't seen him in action yet. Whether or not he was full of valor and honor was up for debate. "Alaara Norixius." She bowed her head to him. "I hope if my name and reputation precedes me, you have only heard good things about me and my barding career."

They are maybe a little thrown off by the greeting. Caedes' mind, with it's damaged fragility, fails to reach into a fragmented history and provide any information on the amount of dragonborn he should be expected to encounter.

The way she speaks so immediately screams 'bard', if other things hadn't given it away, would have secured that profession in the sorcerers mind. But they incline their head regardless, just a soft tilt of scales, taking in her name.

"I'm Caedes." they said, after a moment, sure she was done. "I admit, I have not heard of you nor your… proficiency, but that is no insult to you." they swallowed, "It is… far too immense to explain here, but suffice it to say that I have lost my memories. My past is a blur." suffice it to say? Ugh. He'd been spending too much time with Gale.

[ninehclls]

@chaoticbard cont. from here

Alaara seemed interesting. He didn't know much of her just yet, but it was clear she leaned more into her music than Tav did. They were three days out from the Nautiloid wreck, and admittedly Tav was an utter wreck himself. He was collecting people left and right and somehow he was in charge of them - at least mostly. It was terrifying.

Gods, but he wanted them all to like him.

This was a good step toward that, right?

"Of course. You looked a bit lost for where to sit. Why not next to me?" Tav hummed, the spade of his tail swaying somewhere just behind his right ear. "Welcome. I think Gale will have dinner ready... eventually."

He glanced over toward their resident wizard, bemused by his distant cursing as the fire popped and hissed at him while he attempted to get it ready for their meal. Then he startled, surprised she'd noticed the callouses on his hands. Lifting one in front of his face, he flexed his fingers and smiled. "Just the lute, actually. Though I do sing. I was interested in other instruments, but never quite ended up with one through money or... other methods."

He cracked a proper grin then, barely suppressing a snicker. "I'm sorry, it's a little funny imagining you playing kazoo of all things. You have such a serious face, it just..." He caught himself, eyes flashing wide and his other hand lifting to join the other in a placating gesture. "Hells. Look at me putting my foot in my mouth. I don't mean to insult your instrument choice."

[warwaited]

@chaoticbard

Rakatak laughs and rolls her eyes jokingly, throwing a look over in Alaara's direction as she pops another piece of cured sausage into her mouth. She's been in almost uncharacteristically high spirits after their most recent fight, and apparently found reason to celebrate.

"What would be worse, I wonder, the fear of the unknown, or having bearing of exactly what will happen but lacking the will to stop it. Oh, the ways I could pull a man into my orbit, if only I felt like it."

A hearty swig of wine. "Really, Alaara, you have the best of it. You could make a list of obituaries sound riveting, and here I am thumping the pulpit evermore. Stirring, but hardly sensual."

[baldurianrogue]

✍

Send ✍ for my muse to write a letter to your muse!

" Dear Alaara, @chaoticbard

As soon as this letter finds you, I'll be already reaching the Crimson Palace. I have, decided I can't let my life be ruled by fear . Nevertheless, I chose not to bring more allies with me , as I wouldn't want you to get involved in this.

You don't deserve to die, because of Cazador. If I die , then that how it was meant to happen, but you needn't pay for my sins with me. After all, I wouldn't be missed . . Would I? But I couldn't keep living in constant terror of Cazador finding me , either!

Don't worry too much, for you know that I'm cunning, and willy. It has kept me alive, this far. I had designed, a small plan . And a proper stealth could work wonders. Maybe I could manage with a few sneak attacks..! I hope I do, but if I don't -- needn't you suffer for me for too long.

Either way, farewell, little Bard!

Your dearest friend, Astarion."

[lcftyambiticns]

📜 . . . @chaoticbard : ❛ You could have died, you know. ❜

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"YES, I AM QUITE AWARE I could have died, thank you very much! And so could you!" He spat, glaring at her. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins.

Lorroakan was no hero, and he was perfectly content with that. The fine line between valor and folly was often blurred, and the dead didn't reap the rewards of their so-called bravery.

Yet, he had still risked his own well-being to save Alaara. The bard who never failed to test his patience. His companion. He sat on a fallen tree, wrapping a makeshift bandage around his lower arm where the blade had nicked him.

ㅤㅤㅤ"Your reckless stupidity nearly got both of us killed! From this moment on, you will do exactly as I say, or so help me, I will leave you to whatever fate your foolishness brings upon you!"

𝐬𝐡���𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

[shimmerbeasts]

For gods' sake. Alaara shook her head, shocked by what he'd said. Sure, drow were a more violent race but- for any of them to survive multiple attempts on their lives... That was nothing to shake a stick at. At least- it wasn't in the assassins were any good. And most drow were. "Yes," she answered. "Multiple attempts? How is it that you all live this way? Why? What purpose does trying to off one another serve when you all live in the Underdark?"

"I could claim it is something about culling the weak and making us stronger in turn", Felicitas replied, putting the bottle down, "I could claim that to survive Hookhorrors, Bulettes, Beholders or Minotaurs, you need to be strong of mind and body, but let's be real, that would only be half the story."

She blew a raspberry. Looking back at the Dragonborn, she continued: "Let's just say, religious zeal and a rigid hierarchy of Houses, where you cannot afford to lose face even once is an amazing cocktail to grow up on." The drow rubbed a hand over her neck, massaging a strange burn mark on her skin. Upon closer inspection, Alaara could make out the sigil of the Baenre family.

She smiled sourly. "I should not even be the target of assassinations", Felicitas admitted, "I am a bard. We are literally there to entertain the houses. Plus I was a serf, so I should be even less of a target. I am not even a person in drow culture. Sure, I am more than a slave, but not a lot. But you end up witnessing an incidence where a lot of high-ranking house members die and suddenly, you are the enemy!"

@chaoticbard cont. from here.

[starbvund]

@chaoticbard plotted starter

This place brought back so many painful moments in Halsin's life. The darkness here had snuffed out the last remnants of a careful elven youth. The war colored his past in an irrevocable way. So many good friends and comrades lost to Ketheric's ambition. He didn't know what he expected returning here. Hope, perhaps. Silvanus had blessed him more than most. Rewarded him with his faith in a way to restore this land; salvage it from the blight infesting it.

He'd thought his rescuers and saviors of the Grove would extend that grace towards his mission. He hoped, but didn't expect it. What he hadn't banked on was the little cleric of Shar. She who rejoiced in her Lady's darkness and all the sorrow it wrought. She bleated her vitriol in his direction. It reminded Halsin of a petulant child lashing out with doctrine beaten into them over years.

He forged on attempting to be the stronger person in the situation. But even he had limits. Limits he quickly was brushing up against. A knife in hand he flicked it over the shapeless cedar block in his hand. Something to take his mind off this place. To help him forget some people out there wanted this blight. This infection to continue.

Halsin startled when Alaara approached him. His knife strayed nearly enough to nick flesh. His large frame twitched in his surprise. "Forgive me, friend. I didn't see you. How can I help you this evening?"

He assumed it was evening. Here time was all relative. The sun's rays didn't reach the ground.

[ceruleanscarred]

Vorel asked @chaoticbard to fix her lute.

As the instrument is handed over, it jostles slightly in Alaara's hands, especially when a replacement is mentioned. As if it was offended by the idea.

"Oh I don't think I'd be able to part with this one. It was a gift from someone I met on my travels, and its... taken a liking to me, I think." The lute had a warm golden shimmer to it, like it was bathed in comforting sunlight.

"Actually, could you show me how to repair a string? It's the first time one has broken, I'd like to know how to fix it if any others break in the future, even if my hands are too big. I should at least try."

[bloodedhearts]

"Don't worry. I'm not tired, so I will make sure our camp is safe." Well, there's more to it, of course, but Astarion won't admit this. For now, anyway, he thinks this alliance could be very useful to him, so he doesn't plan to waste it. He's convinced he's good at hiding the truth, but right now, he just really needs blood, and it's probably written all over his face.

@chaoticbard ❤'d !

[recitedemise]

@chaoticbard asked: "i won't let anything happen to you." PROMPTS FOR FEELING SAFE AND EXPRESSING COMFORT: still accepting.

It's the eve of something great. That said, Gale knows that it's been the eve of something great for at least two seasons. Quietly, the spring had turned to summer whose fields of drenching golds have succumbed to autumn. Gale looks out onto the city, its shy dusting of flowers turned autumnal tender. He can't ascertain the day or the very last second where his fate will meet him, but their encounter with the Elder Brain is certainly approaching. Tinnily, Mystra's phantoming whisper fills his head.

It's both late and drusy, Baldur's Gate scintillating in a gauze of torchlight. In the inn, Gale watches her drag in her insomniac shuffle, and it's Alaara's quiet voice that gives him a half a fright. he turns from the window. Along his brow, its glimmer, the starlight, steeps him somber.

"You're always so sure," he greets, willing the slight thump of his heart to quell. "You could tell me that the sun rose with the stars, and I would need an embarrassing moment to really consider it." The hope that could color her dainty little promises... "If nothing else, I imagine that's a bard's magic." Is she worried? For him? How sobering a thought. "I'm quite spellbound."

[apalestar]

"Is your middle name Edward by chance? I heard someone call you that."

@chaoticbard Day put you up to this.

"Do I look like an Edward to you? Last I checked, I'm still elven by birthright. Most of us know better than to name ourselves something so terribly uninspired." Either that or something so inspired by nature it made Astarion flare his nostrils in a show of distaste.

[whomuses]

"It's too cold to go home tonight; I have a spare room upstairs. Don't tell anyone the Jolly Goose isn't actually at full capacity though. Might start a brawl..."

Gale looked out of the window at the thick flakes that were falling. Yes; that was a fair point, it was very, very cold out there and he could already feel the chill threatening his rather unhappy knees. As delightful as midwinter was, his aching body greatly objected. "Are you sure?" he asked, dropping his voice low, "I wouldn't want to be a bother..."

[dicethrow]

Alaara had been holding on to many trinkets during their journey. She had kept so many, in fact, that she had ample stock to sell off for better items for her companions. She rid her stuffed coin bag of magic-less rings along the way to Baldur's Gate.

The time came to spend her savings when they reached Sorcerous Sundries. Gale had wanted to go digging in their vaults for information about the Crown of Karsus, and Alaara had wanted to go with him not just to keep an eye on him but to shop for more spell scrolls and items. A ring caught her eye. After hearing the description of what it could do, she purchased it immediately and made a beeline for Gale. She caught him just as he was walking away from a woman behind a different counter, looking deflated.

"I have a gift for you." Alaara held her hand up, a copper-colored ring with a vine design carved into it, every leaf a small, inset stone held between her fingers. "A ring for you, noachi, to keep you safer in battle. It will heal you a small amount should you take damage. You shall be all the more formidable with this on one of your fingers."

Alaara softly rumbled as she leaned down to kiss Gale on his forehead. "This is not an invitation to do anything riskier when we next fight," she gently warned, a knowing smirk turning the corner of her mouth upward. "I give it to you as token of my affection, as a token that will bring a modicum of peace to my mind that you will be alright until the end of every battle we fight... and I hope that it softens the blow of whatever that woman just told you about what you were looking for. Is what you seek not within this place? Or..."

She paused, looked around, and lowered her voice.

"Or is it here and currently inaccessible through negotiation?"

Gale admired the ring, holding it delicately between his fingers before, with a graceful twirl, he muttered the incantation to detect magic. The subtle glow of arcane energy confirmed its properties, and a grin spread across his face. Gifting a wizard the ability to heal was not only an incredibly thoughtful gesture but a strategic boon. It would provide no shortage of bragging rights amongst his peers when he inevitably returned to Waterdeep.

The earlier sting of being denied access to the vaults to read the Annals of Karsus was still fresh—not just an academic disappointment but a life saving blow. But this gift... this softened the blow considerably.

"Hmm," he mused aloud, mid-thanks, as he stroked his beard thoughtfully with the very finger that now bore the ring. His mind, thanks the the ring spurring ideas, began to weave a plan. "I was about to return to the others empty-handed, but you’ve certainly ensured that’s no longer the case. However..."

His gaze drifted upward, drawn to the balcony above where a locked door sat partially concealed by an enchanted suit of armour acting as a guard. A small smirk curled his lips. He could be clever about this. A simple spell here from either of them, perhaps the skilled assistance of their rogue companion there, and the task could be accomplished with little fuss. It would be an excellent use of Alaara's practice with illusions.

After all, Lorroakan had proven himself to be as insufferable as the rumours suggested. Gale doubted the man even deserved such treasures locked away in his possession. Certainly, he would feel no guilt in relieving the smug wizard of just one of his hoarded tomes. Especially that tome.

"It would make this ring even more useful," he remarked, more to himself than anyone else, before his eyes flicked back down, brimming with mischief. "Tell me, my love, how do you feel about acquiring a book by... unorthodox methods?"

[warwaited]

@chaoticbard

Her nose wrinkles slightly at the extent of the laughter, if not its presence at all, but the paladin waits for Alaara to laugh herself out before she waves a hand dismissively.

"By no means do we need the largest possible drum. I just meant something a touch larger than a dinner plate - perhaps not in camp, but... afterwards. Once our campaign is completed, and you can turn your mind to the idea of recounting all this, rather than experiencing it." War rolls her shoulders, then shrugs casually.

"You will have to tell me about it once you begin drafting."