#descent into avernus fanfiction

[thespacelizard]

still, now, my wardrum heart

@fluffbruary day 27! an introspective Zariel piece today, because i love her. up on AO3 here.

In which Zariel struggles with stillness.

Waves sweep softly over an infinity of silver sand. Her fingers slide through it, the motion followed by a faint cascade of perfect chimes as each grain returns to the whole. Harmonised, always. Zariel looks up at the shimmering calm of the twilit sky and breathes slowly. It’s a miracle still, to breathe slowly. To allow her heart to beat like a heart, and not a war-drum.

She leans back against Lulu, whose mammoth form—though large—is but a speck among specks on this endless beach that stretches out, eternally, from the base of Mount Celestia. Lulu shifts and snuffles; one huge, liquid gold eye cracks open, confirms sleepily that Zariel is still there, then closes again.

They come here a lot of late. They came here a lot of old, but gone are the days of drawing battle plans in the sand, and whispering impossible dreams into the surf. Now Zariel is content to simply be, and Lulu is ecstatic to be with her.

Only…she trails her fingers through the sand, grooves that collapse in on themselves the moment her hand lifts away. She’s not content. She doesn’t know if she will ever be content again—if she was ever content to begin with. She suspects she was only ignorant, and then she was outraged, then prideful, and foolish, and lost.

She does not know if it is possible to be content, or if such a state is merely a construct meant to pacify.

Zariel’s hand strays to the blade at her hip, bound to its scabbard with delicate peace-thread. She’s sworn not to draw it again unless there is dire need. That she will not run headlong into any fight she can find to prove herself—the Seven Heavens do not need her to prove herself, but she’s afraid she’ll want to anyway. Her form implies redemption, but how can she earn forgiveness sitting quietly on a beach?

Lulu would say she doesn’t need to earn anything, that what she needs is to rest. To find stillness, and peace, and joy, the way she used to have it in abundance. Soaring the skies of Mount Celestia, up through the highest heavens she can reach, with Lulu at her side—this does bring her no small measure of joy. And seeing Lulu happy; this too brings her pleasure.

Lulu deserves happiness, after all the years of misery Zariel put her through.

Something silver darts through the waves. The sharp, bright movement spikes adrenaline through her heart, and without conscious thought, her fingers wrap tight around her sword hilt. Her eyes catch her instinct before she can draw the blade; just dolphins, souls, traversing their afterlife. A moment later, they’re out of sight, and Zariel relaxes her grip.

She’s still not used to being here. She keeps waiting for the ground to crack open and unleash screams of agony, for the skies to bleed, for the azure clarity of the rivers to run with bloody carnage. It’s so hard to get the war-drums out of her heart.

Lulu keeps encouraging her to forget, to move on. Because Archduke Zariel was not her Zariel, but some other creature—the real Zariel was trapped inside that monster, screaming and weeping at the atrocities the Lord of the First committed. Why shouldn’t she move on, when it wasn’t her that did those things?

It was her. Every part of it was her, and now she’s seen the kind of person she can become, she’s afraid that if she does move on, if she forgets for even a moment, she’ll one day make the same mistakes again. Thus the peace-thread, and the promises of pacifism, even though she wants to fight, aches to. She’s terrified that if she does, she won’t be able to stop.

Zariel moves her hand from hilt to wrist, running her fingers over the soft, white silk that wraps her stump. There have been countless offers to repair it, and countless pitying looks at her continued refusal. They think she’s choosing suffering, that it’s a penance, but it’s neither of those things.

It’s a consequence. Because people like her—angel or Archdevil—spend too much of their eternities free from consequence.

Lulu snorts and raises her head. Her trunk ruffles Zariel’s hair. “You’re doing that thing again.”

Zariel pets her trunk. “What thing?”

“The thing where you get all thoughtful and sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

“But you are thinking.”

“Yes.” Zariel shifts so she can see the face of her oldest, dearest friend. She smiles, because Lulu likes her smile. “You do not need to worry.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Lulu huffs, and settles more comfortably into the sand. Then, without warning, she shrinks back down to her ordinary hollyphant size. Zariel topples over with a cry as Lulu swoops up in a trail of golden sparks, laughing.

“You always fall for that!”

Zariel spits celestial sand and wipes her mouth. “Fly fast, little hollyphant. I shall give you a ten second head start.”

“Generous today!” Lulu calls, already speeding away. By the time Zariel is on her feet, she’s gotten a generous lead along the infinite shore, and it will take some doing to catch up with her. For someone so small, Lulu is deceptively fast.

Zariel leaps into the air and as she chases down Lulu and her laughter, she feels her maudlin mood falling away. It will be back, she knows, but for now there is the wind in her face and her friend in the skies, and though her heart pounds, it remains just that—a heart.

[dutifullylazybread]

Hi Darcy!! Love your writing so much!

Since you're opening up Headcanon requests, I was curious: What do you think Rolan's nightmares contain? Same for Cal and Lia maybe?? I love how you alluded to Rolan's nightmares with how he wakes up "choking on his own panic" I always think Rolan's nightmares are either about his mother, Lorroakan, or both! I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

Thank you so much! 🥹 I had a blast reading through your fics the other day—so thank you for sharing such lovely writing with all of us.

So this was a really interesting thought exercise for me. I was a little nervous to start this headcanon list, because I wanted to do these three characters justice.

I have done my best to pull from nightmares I have had, and I have also conducted research to make sure I am not working solely from one point of view.

Content warnings: Nightmares as a result of living through some pretty terrifying experiences, parental death/finding deceased parent (mentioned at the end of all three sections) and discussions of past abuse (found in Rolan's section).

Nightmares - Cal, Lia, and Rolan

Cal

Cal dreams of falling.

To be specific, he dreams of when Elturel descended.

The reason I say this is because I came across this MtG card illustration of the Descent into Avernus, and it has stuck with me:

So when Elturel descended, would it really be too surprising if some people lost their footing and fell off the edge?

As Elturel is dragged into Avernus by these chains, cityfolk are being ripped off of the ground. If they can’t grab onto something stable enough to hold fast while the city descends, or if they aren’t flush to the side of a building, then they are likely flying off of the edge.

Cal had been running errands for the general store that he worked at when Elturel descended. Were it not for the sturdy building he found himself pressed up against, he might not have survived the Descent.

Now, he frequently dreams of falling into the River Styx. He doesn’t usually wake up when he hits the water, but he will dream of staring up at the city, and he can’t move. He can’t swim to the surface.

Cal also dreams of Moonrise Tower’s dungeons. He remembers the smell of rot and death, and he remembers the sounds of things moving around in the shadows.

When these nightmares take a turn for the worse, he manages to get out of the prison cell, and he starts searching for Lia. He knows something bad has happened, but he can’t find her.

He, like Rolan, dreams about finding their mother's body.

Lia

Lia dreams of Zariel. My personal headcanon is that, when Elturel was pulled into Avernus, Lia was likely in the city’s square (Shiarra’s market). This would be a place where there would be a lot of people, especially when the Descent occurred. So after the city was pulled into Avernus and chained above the River Styx, Zariel landed in the city square.

Zariel would have made this appearance to 1) scare everyone shitless, 2) to show off the forces under her control, and 3) to make it clear why she chose to drag Elturel into Avernus. She would make it known then and there who was at fault, because she would want to sow dissent amongst the people of Elturel.

And Lia, who had been in the midst of training, was right there. Perhaps paces away from Zariel. And she brought a detachment of her devil army with her. 

Lia dreams about fleeing the marketplace. She never looks behind her, because she fears either Zariel or her devils will be there, at her heels.

While she runs, she searches for Rolan and Cal, calling out for them but receiving no answer.

She tries to find her way home, but as she flees, the city’s streets become almost maze-like. 

And, at a certain point, she feels like she is running in place. The street stretches out in front of her, her legs are moving under her, but she simply can’t gain enough traction to push herself forward.

She will usually wake up just as she feels something grapple her from behind.

If her nightmares turn into sleep paralysis, she might dream that Zariel is in the room with her, watching from the shadows cast by her wardrobe.

When Lia dreams about their mother, she dreams about trying to run towards her but never reaching her. When having these dreams, she feels like, if she can't reach her, something very, very bad will happen.

Rolan

So I agree with you that Rolan dreams about Lorroakan. There are indeed instances where he just relives Lorroakan's abuse as a flashback.

He also dreams about getting lost in the Shadow-Cursed lands. He wanders through the forest, calling for his siblings.

If he dreams of Elturel, then he dreams of running through the house, calling out for Cal and Lia and their mother. No one answers. 

It’s like he is moving through a strange haze. He is looking everywhere, but he knows that no one is there. He can hear chaos outside of the household, and it makes him panic.

Something is banging on the front door. He cannot find his family, but he knows he needs to before whatever is outside gets in.

I do headcanon that their mother died before Elturel was returned to the material plane, but she was alive prior to the Descent. 

Rolan and Cal found her body.

In his nightmares, Rolan rushes out into the garden, thinking that he might find Cal or their mother there.

The garden wrapped around the house. And when he immediately steps outside, he is struck by this deep, sickening dread. He knows something is wrong. He wants to go back inside, but he is compelled to keep walking forward. He remembers looking for his mother out here before and finding something horrible.

He wants to go back inside, but he can’t.

Before he rounds the corner to where the flowerbeds are, he wakes up.

[gloomstalkertav]

Summary: With the Netherbrain defeated, Alfira the Bard is finally ready to compose the 'Tale of Tav', but she needs the help of a certain ex-Hellrider to fill in the hero's romantic blanks.

Pairing: Zevlor x Fem!Tief!Tav

Status: In progress

Author's Note: This story will do what I like to call a 'renegotiation' of canon. It will stay true to BG3's narrative intent while inserting our favourite stressed old man into more canon story events (particularly in Act 3) in order to give him the romance with Tav he clearly wanted and the ending I feel he deserves.

Rating: T (eventual M)

Warnings: angst, violence, canon character deaths, implied sexual scenarios

Nine Hells Story Links

Prologue

In which competition to compose the best version of recent events in Baldur’s Gate is fierce, but Alfira is fiercer (i.e. ready and willing to exploit ex-Hellrider Commander Zevlor’s well-known weakness for bards).

9. Nessus

In which Zevlor’s terrible, horrible no good, very bad day - make that tenday - actually, when was the last time he wasn’t having a bad day? - is interrupted by the arrival of Tav (and readers of this fic learn to adjust their eyes to the author’s excessive use of hyphens and en dashes).

8. Cania

In which Zevlor battles his trust issues and reaps a strange sort of reward (and the author continues to pepper in scenes that definitely did not happen in the game).

7. Maladomini

In which the author greatly exaggerates Zevlor’s role in the battle for the Emerald Grove.

6. Malbolge

In which the tiefling party, in-keeping with canon, is a disappointment to Zevlor fans (though Zevlor himself comes out ahead in this version).

5. Stygia

In which all of Act II is summed up in one angst-riddled chapter, and no tieflings are spared the horrors of canon.

6. Phlegethos

In which Zevlor and Tav arrive in Baldur's Gate, and spend 10,000 words not confessing how they feel (then 1,000 finally doing so).

[sasha199]

One of my Dnd campaigns consists of my players traveling the worlds and gathering mysterious components. This most recent leg of the journey has brought our adventurer's to the Sword Coast, specifically to the city of Elturel. There they must find a tiefling tinsmith who will be able to assist them in acquiring the component they seek: Infernal Iron.

[tociminna]

A Thing I am looking forward to expanding on in my WIP, something that Larian pretty much just left on the table:

Ulder Ravengard was in Elturel during the Descent. He spent months (could be less depending on campaign context) leading and defending the last citizens of the city while it was in Avernus.

Adventurers returned the city to the Material Plane, but Ravengard was the one running the show in the High Hall. It is highly likely that at least Zevlor has met him before.

His reaction to Devil Wyll is absolutely complicated by this. The Return took place only a few months(?) before the events of BG3.

I also wonder if Wyll knows this. Is there dialogue or background in the game I've missed or forgotten that would point in either direction?

[readingoodbooks]

Projections - Dungeons & Dragons

While her companions rested, after their first, traumatic encounter with the amoebas that infested the lost Mine of Phandelver, Shael Silentlight took a seat, cross-legged, at the mine entrance, in an area shaded by the massive mountain in which the entrance was set.From one of the pouches hanging in her belt, she extracted a rather peculiar gold coin, bearing on one of its faces the Goddess…

[sesquipedalianmarquis]

i wrote you some smut!

Rating: Explicit Word count: 8k Source: D&D campaign, Descent into Avernus

Sequel to if you wanna use me up and leave me in the bed. Weeks later, Dread the shadar-kai has a second run-in with Faltrax the incubus, and well, that's an opportunity that doesn't come around every day. They fuck.

(content: rimming, oral, s&m, bareback, cbt, blood, no aftercare)

[probablybadrpgideas]

in a descent into Avernus campaign name your character Dante and have his motivation for being there be to write fanfiction about it

(sees lake of blood that is also on fire) “I am definitely going to write that guy that stole my lunch money in middle school being thrown in there”

­I like the implication that Dante Alighieri did, in fact, go to hell and the Divine Comedy is his spiteful rewriting of the journey

[baldurs-writers-3]

Gen Fic 1: A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfiction Rec List

This week, we have our first iteration of another recurring theme, Gen Fic!

Gen fics are fics where the primary pairing and/or focus of the fic is not romantic or sexual. This recurring theme is to help highlight fics that might not get picked up as often due to searching behaviors.

Check under the cut for seven excellent fics that explore complex platonic friendships, found family goodness, and character deep dives! And as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

Seven Minutes in Avernus by cyranonic (3503, Teen) Content Notes: None Pairings: Astarion & Karlach

While exploring the monastery Astarion and Karlach get sealed into a trap! A box of stone... Astarion doesn't handle it well, but it's a bit too early in the trip for Karlach to really understand what is happening.

Reccer says: His freak out is v. well done, and I love her moment of realization.

Taters by OrangeChickenPillow (1,593, General) Content Notes: None Pairings: The Origin Gang

Karlach might have lost one family, but she gained another (and her new family tells her "taters" with varying degrees of enthusiasm)

Reccer says: I really love team as family and this fic does it wonderfully

Lost in Frozen Fire by SadinaSaphrite (10,333, Explicit) Content Notes: Explicit for torture not sexy Pairings: Astarion & Jaheira

Astarion has a bad time and cannot save himself, even though oh how he tries. Too bad he doesn't have anybody who cares enough for him to come look for him... oh wait!

Reccer says: It's SO SAD how Astarion is hopeful and hopeful until he just has to give up and admit total defeat. Then his interactions with Jahiera are SO good.

Descent into Baldur’s Gate by Starlight_Rogue (19,331, Not Rated) Content Notes: None Pairings:

An Iseki fanfic where someone from this world wakes up as a tiefling barbarian in bg3 and lives through their favorite story

Reccer says: It is an amazing mix having humor with serious moments sprinkled throughout. It is still in progress

Fool Me Once by cyranonic (6994, Mature) Content Notes: None Pairings: Astarion & Karlach

In hindsight, Karlach wonders how she ever came to trust Enver Gortash. A requiem for loyalty in seven moments.

Reccer says: I really enjoy the exploration of Gortash's manipulation methods, and I absolutely ADORE the conversation Astarion and Karlach have afterwards! Friends don't let friends blame themselves for being abused!

Broken Little Puppets by BlackjackKent (1797, General) Content Notes: None Pairings: Astarion & Karlach

Astarion and Karlach talk a bit about how it feels after killing the people who ruined their lives.

Reccer says: The phrase 'And the hunger will never, ever, ever stop.' lives in my brain rent free. That just says it all about Astarion right there. He won, but it didn't undo anything that was done to him.

Apples by AlwaysMauria (2041, General) Content Notes: None Pairings: Astarion & OC (named Tav)

Approximately 20 years before the events of the Absolute, Astarion meets a child while on an errand for Cazador.

Reccer says: I read AlwaysMauria's fic 'Star Crossed', and this one-shot feels like such a sweet supplement to their backstory. It's a sweet interaction, and my new HC for Astarion's 'House of Nightstar' dialogue origin. Def recommend!

The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ!

Next week, we’ll be exploring Worldbuilding Fics! 

[thespacelizard]

Archdevils Do Not Dream | Forgotten Realms | 880 words | AO3

Summary: You are an Archdevil. And Archdevils do not dream.

---

Archdevils do not dream.

Dreaming is for mortals, for lesser beings, for those without the power of Baator flowing through their veins. Dreaming is for those who are not the only thing standing between the endless tides of sickening chaos that spew forth from the Abyss and the fragile existence of the Material Plane.

Dreaming is not for the likes of you. Not any more.

Yet the claws of fatigue dig into your body, all-powerful as it is. Wading through ichor and blood and fire takes its toll upon even your tireless arms and while Archdevils do not dream they must, on occasion, sleep. In those moments of caught breath and unconscious blackness there pluck at your senses scraps of visions. Memories, perhaps – things that you have not thought of in long, long years. Things you cannot, will not, think of.

The war takes up all the space in your mind anyway. There is no room for reminiscence because the hordes of the Abyss, foul and wretched, spare as little time for rest as you do. They do not dream either and their incursions are one long, waking nightmare of horror that leaves no time to recall those that stood at your side in ages long gone. There is no time to see the flickering shades of humans standing where now stand osyluth and barbazu and spinagon and erinyes. The only standard that matters is the one bearing your blazing insignia, your burning sword the last thing the demonic filth ever see before you scour them from existence. There cannot be a standard of a shining sun at your side because in Avernus there is no sun. There is only a sky red as the blood that coats your every waking moment, only clouds like breaking scabs and lightning like sorrow and oil-slick crimson rain that makes your wings sizzle and your halo steam.

In the citadel of Avernus there are no mirrors. When you came here they hung – or so it seemed – in every room of this brutal, lonely place. In frames of gold and black that glittering glass haunted you, taunted you from every thrice-accursed wall no matter where you turned in the endless fortress now yours to call home. You forbade the serving imps and spinagons to collect the shards. Still they lie below the empty, broken, twisted frames, imprints of your claws still in the metal. It matters not to you, who spends no time at all here save for when duty demands it.

Other Archdukes are reluctant to meet with you on the front lines – cowards that they are. Afraid of a little ichor on their hands, as if it would react poorly with the other blood that stains them.

Unlike them you are proud of the stains on your hands because in acquiring them you have accomplished something. Whilst the rest of this conniving anthill that calls itself the Nine Hells may be content to sit and scheme against itself, gathering power here and promises there for pointless ends, you, oh, you have far greater ideals than they. Despite how they sneer and whisper, deriding your youth and your inexperience and your…regrettable origins. What does any of that matter when you hold the line?

Without you their precious schemes would mean nothing. Without you, Baator would be naught but chaos, a new playground for the Abyss to ruin. Without you they would be nothing! Lords of failure and dust and they would fade into howling obscurity and every web they ever wove would come crashing down upon them to suffocate their ever-lying mouths.

And so they will not meet with you in your place of power. They will not come where you fight. Only in this vast and empty citadel will they come to you, this ancient place with its echoing halls and broken mirrors. They do not say anything to your face, no, that would be far too obvious. But they see, and they know, and you know that they file that sliver of broken glass knowledge away as a weakness and an exploit they will one day make use of.

It does not matter.

What will they do? March on your fortress with a great mirror and force you to look at yourself? As if the reflection will hurt more writ large than it ever did in the shards. As if seeing the whole will somehow be worse than the parts, than the glimpses of burning eyes, burning wings, burning soul that follow you everywhere you go. As if you do not carry the weight of this body with you, as if you are not aware of the skin that wraps your bones. How little they understand. It does not matter if the body is wrong, all that matters is that the mind is right.

And your mind is still right. The body follows the mind, follows orders, and you were ever good at giving those. The mind functions as it should and it does not need memories, it does not need dreams and it does not see humans where there are only devils. For though you did dream, once, and though that dream was grand, you do not dream any more.

You are an Archdevil. And Archdevils do not dream.

[sav-not-tav]

do you think it's possible karlach encountered any of the tiefling refugees (rolan, zevlor, etc) in the hells before the events of bg3?

I absolutely think it’s not only possible but highly probable. In the game, there is an interaction at Last Light with Mattis that confirms Karlach was at least nearby.

I did a little bit of research on the Descent when I started writing a piece on it for my fanfiction, and while in Avernus, Elturel was essentially suspended in the sky, making it not easily accessible and not directly situated on the plains of the Hells. But an excerpt from forgotten realms wiki says: "While devils besieged the city, demons attacked them in another battle of the Blood War, and the surviving Elturians fought off both or simply hid in the ruins. " Given that Karlach was fighting in the Blood War, chances are good that she fought in the streets right alongside our refugees. Considering that the kids recognized her and knew her by name (Mattis, mainly, but he says "we saw"), I think it's logical to assume the others would have had some form of encounter with her, but just didn't have an opportunity for proper introductions.

Since Rolan, Zevlor, and the others didn't have a specific moment of "Hey! I know you!" like Mattis did, their encounters were likely brief and overshadowed by the chaos of Avernus.

Edit to add: I hope this makes sense and I didn’t just ramble. Sometimes I do that and don’t even realize it’s just a jumble of words.

[its-queenofthesilence]

You ever sketch something, do the line art and then just abandon it? Yeah that's me.

So let's have an art dump of sketches/crap I was too lazy to finish. In order from right to left.

D&D - My Cleric of the Mask post resurrection (it was a whole thing, she was dead for like 7 months in game time.)

D&D - My dhamphir wild magic sorcerer with a penchant for writing fanfiction

Redraw challenge I never finished for an old Sailor Moon OC (Usagi/Ami kid) named Mizuki

Initial design for a Stolas/Blitzo kid, I like the idea of her having two different sets of eyes but one is traditional with the pupil and iris (like blitzo) and the other is like just none (like stolas) also she is totally pink in color. I named her Cassiopeia (also she has a younger twin named Andromeda)

D&D - Willow Hallowgrave, my astral reborn monk I am playing in my Descent into Avernus campaign

Another design, headwise, for Cass, this time with both eyes having iris' and pupils.

Another D&D character, just an initial sketch.

[thespacelizard]

Velvet

time for @fluffbruary! read it on AO3 here

In which Amrik has a surprise for Adanessa

Sunset painted the summer-warm streets of Eastway in burning orange, almost red—almost enough to trick the eye into mistaking the light for blood. Baldur’s Gate being what it was, one could forgive such poetic notions.

“Amrik, if I find myself in a room full of nobles trying to pretend they know how to drink wine, I’m going to sculpt the lot of them.”

Amrik laughed, and squeezed Adanessa’s hand. Lace against his leather, slim, strong fingers in his own blunt ones. “I promise, my dear, I would never inflict such a torture upon you.”

“You would, if it would upset your brother’s plans.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Adanessa hooked her arm into his, pressing up against his side as they continued through the darkening streets. Not warm, never quite that, but living and solid and willing to be seen in public with him, even after all that had happened. Well. For certain values of seen in public, anyway.

“Where are we going?” she asked. They were halfway through Heapside now, the lamplighters scurrying out of the growing gloom. The wall of the Upper City was nearer with every step, the last dregs of sunlight streaking the stone.

“Trust me a minute more,” he said. She huffed, fluttering the storm-grey veil that concealed her face today. Gods, he wished it were dark enough to tempt her into lifting it, he wanted to kiss her already. He should have stolen one before they’d left her house, but he knew if he had, they never would have gotten past the door.

At Heap Gate, the guards gave Amrik a nod. Young nobles dragging in whichever handsome prospect they’d found in the Lower City were a common enough sight of an evening, though Amrik supposed he could only be called young any more by those who measured lives in centuries rather than decades. But, as Adanessa had no visible weapons on her, the guards had no reason not to let one of the world’s more dangerous creatures past their post.

A few twists and turns took them through the better-kept and better-lit Upper City streets until there it was, ostensibly closed, the little dressmaker’s shop he’d spent the past tenday courting. He rapped on the door.

“Master Vanthampur?” asked the gnomish woman who opened it.

“The very one.”

She beamed. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming. Right this way.”

Amrik held the door and motioned for Adanessa to enter. He couldn’t see her face behind the veil, but he knew her well enough to feel her roll her eyes regardless. And to feel her smile. She went past him cautiously, as any good Eastway girl would on being thrown into an Upper City boutique. Less that she didn’t think she belonged there—Adanessa Vidrid belonged wherever she pleased, and had better taste than most—more that if someone wanted her dead, this would have been a very good place to get away with it.

“Here you are sir, as requested.” The dressmaker patted a bundle laid out on the counter. “You just get yourself changed, my lady, and I’ll get right to work, though you’ve such a lovely figure I’m sure it won’t take but a moment.”

“Changed?”

Adanessa could go very, very still when she was distressed, and did so now. One hand brushed the silk hood covering her head, lingered at the edge of her veil. Amrik put his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“You can’t very well put on a new dress without taking the old one off,” he murmured. He ran his palm up her bodice; her head twitched in the direction of the dressmaker. Amrik raised his hand until he felt without looking the eyelets that attached her veil to her hood and began, very carefully, to unhook them.

“She,” he said, voice the low purr he knew she liked, “is the only blind dressmaker in Baldur’s Gate.”

Her veil fell free and Adanessa turned in his arms, instinctively hiding her face from the open world. Amrik tipped her chin up and drew back her hood—her snakes swarmed free with a grateful hiss. One nudged at his palm with its blunt nose; he trailed his fingers along the familiar verdant scales. Adanessa wore a mixture of fear and annoyance and disbelief and, very prettily, hope.

The dressmaker coughed. “Is she ready, Master Vanthampur?”

“How does she know how lovely my figure is if she’s blind?” Adanessa whispered. Amrik kissed her nose.

“She says that to everyone, my dear. Upper City boutiques like to compliment their clients—especially the ones with plenty of coin.”

Adanessa stared at him. Blinked her lovely golden eyes. Then the hope won out—she laughed and slipped from his arms and her clothes. “I’m ready, madam dressmaker,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder at Amrik, snakes writhing about her neck, their golden tongues flicking at her pale back. A coy smile curved her lips. “Show me what Lord Vanthampur has picked out for me.”

Oh, now she was teasing. Amrik didn’t care. He folded his arms and chewed his lip as the gnome helped Adanessa into the dress. Red velvet, subtle brocade, a long and luscious fall of a skirt and a cunning sort of long-sleeved shift underneath of golden lace studded with crimson beads, carefully shown through in artful slits and loops of sleeve. He wasn’t entirely certain how it all worked, only that he had been certain when he’d seen the design that Adanessa would make it look phenomenal.

He’d been right. Adanessa twirled, arms out, eyes bright, snakes all a-slither with her delight.

“Well, Master Vanthampur, what do you think?” she asked. “Does it meet your expectations?”

“Exceedingly.”

She put her palms on his chest, slid them up his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair. The whisper of her breath at his ear sent a shiver down his spine.

“Then take me home so I can thank you.”

Amrik bent to kiss her.

“As you wish, my dear.”

[readingoodbooks]

After the Storm - Dungeons & Dragons

Darkness had fallen rather quickly on the island of Evermeet and, with it, the silence that accompanied the peaceful sleeps of its inhabitants and visitors from the rest of the Forgotten Realms. In the camp that the adventurers had set up at the foot of the Eagle Hills, silence reigned supreme, with most of the group resting peacefully under the stars. Among the forms wrapped in their respective…

[readingoodbooks]

Scendendo nell'Avernus - Dungeons & Dragons

«Non posso credere che tu mi abbia convinto a farlo!» Shael Silentlight brontolò piuttosto seccata, guardandosi intorno come un lupo in gabbia. L’elfa, una ladra scout proveniente da un’importante famiglia elfica di Evermet, non era particolarmente contenta di scendere sull’Avernus, un luogo che non le piaceva molto, per molteplici ragioni che non teneva a ricordare. A proposito di lupi, Ice, la…

[readingoodbooks]

Descending into the Avernus - Dungeons & Dragons

«I can’t believe you talked me into this!» Shael Silentlight grumbled quite annoyed, looking around her like a caged wolf. The Elf, a Rogue Scout from an important family from Evermet, wasn’t very happy to be descending onto the Avernus, a place she didn’t really like very much, for many reasons that she didn’t want to recollect. Talking about wolves, Ice, her constant shadow even then, the big…