#korilla hearthflame

[molinaesque]

Astarion: I think he likes us. Tav: I like him, too. But I'd never say it to his smarmy face. Raphael has a crush on Tav and tries real hard to act cool about it.

[alwachart]

Part 2 of Raphael's cooking adventures the morning after

Find part 1 here

[ineadhyn]

A day in the House of Hope - all perspectives

[tyran-the-tyranical]

I’m currently writing a fic and writing for Raphael is a little infuriating if I’m being honest.

Mostly because he has such a way about him, and unlike the other characters where there’s some room for deviation, he’s quite rigid in his mannerisms. So I’ve literally been scraping through his dialogue and ‘analysing’ his behaviour, and this is what I’ve ‘boggled’ it down to.

EDIT: This is actually really long, and in fact not boggled down at all, Keep Reading at your own peril...

(OK, So I've completely reorganized this post to be more readable) 

Raphael is a complex and multifaceted character, but here are some main character traits of his that I'll delve more into as we go on;  

-Manipulative and Deceptive 

-Arrogant and Condescending 

-Sadistic and Enjoys Suffering 

-Cunning and Strategic 

-Relishes Power and Control 

-Patient and Calculative 

-Dark Humor  

-Alluring and Subtly Flirtatious  

-Dual Nature and Contradictory  

-Hedonistic and Indulgent tendencies

-Ambition

Though Raphael wants to paint himself as an honest person, that still doesn’t mean he isn't Manipulative with us, he uses many tactics to gain our trust, from crafting this honest and helpful persona to literally threatening us and building pressure to make a deal to escape ceremorphosis. 

"I'm here to help, not harm” 

"I am master here. A prince of bargains cloaked like scarlet satin. All that hidden under sublimely obvious truths that cannot be discounted." (From Chapter 3 of his Diaries) 

“Come now, why playing hard to get when you're in deep over your tadpole head all those pretty little symptoms sundering skin dissolving guts they haven't manifested yet have they?" 

"I'll be around watching you squirm like a tadpole through a nice juicy brain" 

As we progress his threats go from subtle to outright fear-mongering, but this also goes into somewhat of his dual nature as when he moves past his honest persona to just pressuring you, he still wants to paint himself as some sort of Saviour. Of course, this is also just another tactic of his, painting himself as a friend or helper, as though he doesn't have his own ulterior motives, which sure he admits outright but in the ending where you do give him the crown he drops this façade and tells you he's planning on taking over more than the hells and will eventually come for you next. I also think this bleeds into his own needs to be adored, you can see this further in his little plaques he has around his house. 

"Am I a friend? Potentially, an adversary? Conceivably, but a savior? that's for certain. Try to cure yourself. Shop around - beg, borrow, and steal. Exhaust every possibility until none are left.  And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair that's when you'll come knocking on my door. Take all the time you need but make up your mind before you're counting down with tentacles"  

Additionally, this all just feeds into his performative nature - to the extent that he sometimes borders on narrator territory. He has his little monologues as he talks about us as though we’re characters in a story and he’s just recounting our actions to some unseen audience.  

[His speech before the Yurgir encounter is a good example of this]

 

"Through the dark, she went creeping and awoke what was sleeping" 

"The Shadows grow long and the hour is late" - also wherever this quote is from works well too 

There are even more subtle moments where he's still being performative, even when he's not physically present, which goes into his desire and constant longing to be seen as something akin to a True or Full Devil (or archdevil). Since he is a cambion he is restricted a lot by his mortal half. He is held back by his human needs like sleep and presumably food too. I think he tries to cover for this through excess, as if you go to the HoH in Act 3, you can see the food on the table is just filled to the brim of just rotten food, basically all of it wasted. Also, there are loads of scattered areas that have fruit or wine throughout his house. I believe he does this on purpose to try to come across as though food is nothing but a pleasurable activity he indulges in now and again rather than a necessity and he doesn't care if he wastes it (Also just saying he's rich, let them eat cake, L + Ratio). 

However his façade isn't perfect since he is still fallible, and he can fail/die. We can see this because, at every opportunity he possibly can, he attempts to convey this front of being omnipotent and powerful - as close as he can to an archdevil. To be fair, he manages to do this pretty really well, At times he can even come across as this truly unbeatable force, that we can’t ever truly defeat. This is exemplified by the fact that, even if we kill him, if we look in his logbook of previous visitors, it hints at him trying to find a way to cheat death by transferring his soul into a clone or something adjacent. 

Now whether he ever managed to accomplish this by the time we attack him is uncertain, (though there is a non-canon / cut content line where he begs for his father's help as we fight him, kinda of insinuating he never fully realized his backup plan in time and he’s actually afraid he’ll die, but that’s also not in the game so who can say for sure) 

“I cannot lose to you. Not here. Not in my home. I cannot die! Mephistopheles, hear your son! I am at your mercy - save me!” - NOT CANON BTW, but omg do I love this line 

Another slight hint that Raphael might not be as indestructible as he'd like us to believe is when he is playing lance board with Mol. 

"My, the double counter Gambit. Vicious. Exactly what I would have done" 

Now for all intents and purposes Raphael does not need to win against Mol, that wasn't the purpose of their game, either way he already had his eyes set on her to make a deal anyway. Yet it demonstrates that whether you cheat or actually manage to outwit him, he can be beaten, since he can't hide behind a persona when playing (Mostly). 

Furthermore, Raphael is like an English teacher, he loves his little similes and metaphors, and just talking in a verbose manner, and it’s not just word vomit, no no no, he makes it sound interesting, he is performing for us after all. For me personally tho, it’s difficult to replicate, unlike other characters or companions where you can deviate their dialogue, like hearing Astarion say ‘fuck you’ to Cazador, I don’t think you could get away with that for Raphael.  

"The mouse smiled brightly it outfoxed, then down came the claw and that love was that"  

"Perfect, one more rhyme for Old Time's sake; The master was slain within his own house, they dined on him both, the cat and the mouse."  

"Like a mosquito nibbling at a dragon, be gone"  

I also think it's so interesting that the man who does nothing but spout rhymes and poetry will say this if you call his poetry out for being dirt; 

"I admit it isn't my primary interest not, by any stretch" 

Excuse me, sir?  I do think he genuinely likes poetry/writing in general, he supposedly even wrote a play before sooo, also I just think that all these contradictory things he says are on purpose, he's trying to be mysterious to some extent, and he doesn't want you to be able to gauge or understand him, he just wants you to believe in his persona he's crafted for you and that's all. Though like I've said before, his mask can slip off, especially in private or when he's enraged. An example is when he's referring to his employees who have failed him.  

"[A record of various associates of Raphael's, listing their duties, and their respective performance.] 

Korrilla Hearthflame - field work - so far I've barely 

had to singe the tips of her fingers. This one shows promise. 

Archivist - naughty boy, supposed to be looking after the collection, 

but has a tendency to drift. May have to start breaking his neck to 

give his spine a chance to recover. 

Nubaldin - little shit let Gortash get away. Not letting 

him near the prisons ever again. Chamber of Egress will 

do fine until I find a replacement for him." 

Moreover, he’s also very condescending/patronizing. (I think even in one of his dialogues, the devs noted he should even come across that way). I think that’s just a part of his little superiority complex, he’s the chess player and we’re all just his little pawns (that is until we kill him ourselves, it almost makes me think that Tav/Durge is actually the other player in the game and to some extent Raphael knows this and tries to play accordingly). He constantly wants to portray this cool and confident personality, that he’s accounted for every possible outcome (and in a lot of ways he has) and that even if he doesn’t get what he wants, it doesn’t faze him, and in fact, he’ll try to make it seem like either way it benefits him, and sure in some ways it might, but I do believe he’s just saying that to mask his failure to achieve his goal. 

"I should snuff you out and make coin of your soul, but it will be more amusing to let you see the consequences of your actions. Do you really think that the crown is safer in the hands of a goddess than in the claws of a devil?" (Look, I don't like Mystra, but do I think the crown is safer with her? UH yea)  

"Such an eager little pup."  

"You really do think highly of yourself. My sights are set on something much more valuable than your soul, succulent though it would be."  

He's Definitely pissed at us for being a little shithead and giving the crown to Mystra (even tho in the game if you complete Gale's quests you rlly have no choice lol) But he still tries to play it off as this will be terrible for you but great for him, since if shit hits the fan, he's just gonna get more souls - Though I'm sure this is him just trying to save face, or at least to some extent. We can see him actually lose his composure if we ascend Gale. 

"Do not toy with me, Wizard!" - R 

"I thought you liked playing games? You can have the crown Raphael, but you'll need to come and collect it from my realm" - G 

"You can't do this!" - R 

"I hit him where he's most vulnerable, pricked his pride, and sent him back to the hells to lick his wounds. He'll be back, the question is will he find us side by side?" - G 

This is really fun to see since even Gale knows Raphael has no power over him and can just mess with him, and initially, Raphael tries to gain control by saying like 'Oh no, I'm not going to take the crown Gale's going to give me it, like we agreed' and then when Gale fucks with him and it utterly infuriates him because there's not much else he can do really since Gale, though he might not be as powerful as Mystra, is definitely more powerful than Raphael. I also think it's very interesting that, even though we've basically gone against Raphael and screwed him over, he doesn't plan on taking it out on us, and I know he says he wants us to see the consequences of our actions but I think there's a different reason to why he doesn't take action against us. I think he's genuinely afraid of us, let me explain. He was clearly already afraid of our potential before any of the endings, shown in his dream he wrote about in his diary, and when we manage to survive everything that the game throw at us and defeat the nether brain, we've basically become undefeatable (Not really but you get what I mean) The only time he even suggests he'll take one of our souls is if Gale explodes while trying to ascend and well, there's not going to be much resistance since he's already blown up. 

"There was one among them who spoke for the rest. They gestured to the melting hooks, suddenly glanced my way, and in their face I saw they had the best of me. 

In waking, my courage has firmed. I progress my plans for

the tadpoled even now. 

I am Raphael. I am not easily bested." 

Raphael is not only fueled by his ambition but his fear (I'll talk more about that later too) and so he acts accordingly, he plans and schemes for hundreds of years trying to account for every possibility, and at times he can even come across as a total control freak lol. He has Korilla literally stalk us throughout the game, he also knows personal facts about our companions (he’s done his homework), and he’s literally planned and orchestrated events in the plot to help lean towards us giving him the crown in the end (it’s implied he helped vlaakith chain Orpheus or idk some other devil did with infernal chains, and he’s the one who helps wipe Ketherics lil army to just one justiciar) he’s had a lot of time to plan and plan he has. He’s constantly aware of your movements since he picks very specific points to appear to you.  

"[Laughter] The good thing is though there's only one little voice you really should listen to, Mine" - Total control freak behavior  

"you'll be back, it's something of great importance to your master is it a love letter a warning or a deed of ownership I can give you all the Gory details"  

"Carved into that Ivory skin of yours is one part of an infernal contract between the archdevil Mephistopheles and your former master" 

"Karlach, why does that name ring a bell? hmm, perhaps I read it in a book somewhere." 

An interesting thing to note is that I think his controlling and performative tactics are the ultimate reason to why he inevitably fails (If you decide to kill him I mean) Since he's spent so much time controlling the narrative literally and figuratively, he's literally altered events leading up to our arrival so that we can give him what he wants and he even talks about us as if we are just a character in his story he's created, he's been doing this so long he truly believes he can control the narrative, that he's predicted every outcome and he really doesn't think we'd go against that we could go against him. He's been so out of the narrative himself, an observer who might nudge things to go his way now and then but never be in the action himself that he truly believed he was untouchable, that he could just float above it all like he did with Karsus’s folly happened. 

Now onto an aspect of Raphael I find very interesting – His relationship's with those around him. As I said before he’s a total control freak, and that’s clearly fueled (if not caused) by his narcissism and we can see that even outside of our protags. Look at Haarlep for instance, (there’s so much to dissect with these two) but Raphael strictly has Haarlep made to look like himself, and is the only form he’ll sleep with. There isn’t just one answer to why he’d do that, firstly, it just boils down to him being a narcissist sure, but on the other hand a point can be made that he’s doing it strategically. 

Haarlep was sent to distract him, and presumably to spy and report back as well (Hypothetically, it's not confirmed) and presumably, Raphael is clever enough to realize that. So why would he reveal anything about himself in such a vulnerable way, so why not just make the incubus be in one form and one form only? It also serves as a lil bit of a punishment I suppose, since Haarlep can be 1000 different people but is forced to stay as one. There’s also another angle to this, that narcissists generally find intimacy difficult, and being vulnerable with other people. So why be vulnerable when you can stick to the devil you know? 

Party member: How did you end up here? 

Haarlep: Sent by Mephistopheles... distract naughty son. 

He knows himself better than anyone, so why would he bother with anyone else? It’s a bit of a defense mechanism, he’s not willing to be vulnerable or let his guard down (and to be fair, for good reason) so it’d be better for him to stick to what he knows, what he’s comfortable with. I’m just going to throw this out here but he comes across as a total hedgehog dilemma sorta of guy, gives off real Shinji Ikari vibes tbh. (NOT REALLY, He's more Gman than anything but just without the charisma 💅) 

Party member: Did you ever turn into forms besides Raphael's? 

Haarlep: Raphael... loves... only... Raphael. 

Now, this is just supposed to be a Raphael analysis but I find it impossible not to mention Haarlep and their motivations as well, since they are arguably the closest person (Literally) to Raphael. Haarlep comes across as a complete gossip type since they seem to just love to air out Raphael's little secrets, they even say how Raphael can Deny them nothing so either Raphael does trust them to some extent to make them his confidant or well, Haarlep just Wittles it out of him during their sessions. Either way, they hold some closeness to Raphael, yet I find it revealing that they immediately will expose him and actually help you (for a price ofc) and intentionally try to help you kill Raphael. Now whether they believed we could actually kill him or not is up for debate, but after you give them your form they do say that they'll enjoy misusing you and they do tell you what will happen when they use your form, so if they believed you were going to die why bother? 

Haarlep doesn't seem to be the only one as in their letter to you in the epilogue it's revealed that even the devils in Mephistopheles's court seemed to hate Raphael. 

"Since the timely end of Raphael's reign, I've gone back to Mephistopheles' Palace in Cania. Many of his Father's court are celebrating the demise of my little brat - behind closed doors. And I'm making a fortune selling evenings in his form now there is no contract binding me to secrecy. Rather tasteless to desire a dead man like that, even amongst devilkind, isn't it?" 

Haarlep even calls Raphael their little brat, though perhaps it was out of endearment as even Haarlep remarks how low it is to desire a dead man when they use Raphael's form. This could possibly show some sort of remorse towards Raphael's death, but it's pretty unclear, yet that's also to be expected since Haarlep is a full devil and they even state they're a crueler master than Raphael so perhaps that was true as well. It genuinely seems that no one actually cares for Raphael, besides perhaps Korilla, and I mean that's fair in all honestly, considering how he treats most of his employees (Hope too) but it's also funny that the people he wants to impress or become most, the devils, also hate him or want to well.. Have some fun times with his form after he's already dead.  I also think it's interesting that Haarlep refers to Raphael as a dead man rather than a devil, they don't even say 'amongst his own kind', It's interesting because Raphael himself is so adamant on calling himself a Devil rather than cambion or whatever (tbf he's not the only one, Mizora does the same or at least out characters don't care to make the distinction) Yet Haarlep doesn't care to make that distinction. Now, of course, man doesn't necessarily mean a mortal man or whatever, but it's still intriguing to note.

An interesting thing to note about Devil society is that, unlike Demons who usually just outcast or kill their cambions, Devils at least allow Cambions to intergrade into their Hierarchy, but at the same time it's a system that wasn't built for them to succeed in since cambions can't physically be promoted, they aren't guaranteed anything form their work, so everything they have, they've had to work hard for. Unlike those around him, Raphael has had to work extra for his position (though I'm sure his title of Son of Mephistopheles did help somewhat) he seems to have it quite good, and tbh I even initially thought he was his own free agent, and didn’t even have to serve under Zariel (but he does) he just has it really good, or at least better than most cambions from what it seems. At the same time, I find it intriguing that he sparsely even mentions who he is in relation to his father. Through subtle hints throughout that game, it's clear that Raphael actually probably hates his father or is perhaps extremely jealous of him, since at the same time he mirrors him in some aspects.  

I think the Dungeoncast said it best when examining the devil's mindset that I also think apply to Raphael quite well too;

"Their dogma essentially revolves around seeking power over others, always adhering to an eye-for-an-eye principle. They exploit any kindness shown to them and show no compassion for the weak, exhibiting traits of a sociopath. Winning at any cost is their mantra, often cloaked in the guise of promoting personal excellence and independence. When they harm others, they rationalize it as providing motivation to succeed."

Even though his society basically looks down on him, whether he's successful or not, Raphael still believes in their mindset, mostly since that's probably how he's survived and thrived in the Hells. This mantra that the devils have has warped who he is as a person entirely and also his ambitions, he doesn't want any other than control, he sees no point in forming meaningful relationships or other interests, and he only sees domination and power as his goal since that's all his society has told him is important.

Another thing I’ve read about cambions is their sense of entitlement, especially over mortals, and well Raphael certainly fits the bill. Which might contribute to why he wants what he wants. I mean, why does Raphael want to take over the hells? To end the blood war? Sure, almost all devils want to rise the ranks but Raphael’s goals are a lot more lofty than that, and why is that? Is it solely his ego? To be seen as something kin to a god-like Asmodeus, or is it to best and humiliate his father? Perhaps both, or perhaps neither, it’s somewhat unclear, but perhaps he just feels entitled to something greater or maybe he wants out of the rat race that is the Devil's Hierarchy.  

"It's the Fatal flaw of mortal kind take away their free will and they call you a tyrant, allow them to indulge it and they become tyrants" 

 

A final point is since he’s a narcissist, he’s obsessed with his image, yea I know, very obvious. And it’s been mentioned a few times that this is probably why he and Haarlep look so different, it’s either insecurity or wanting to come across as something more mature, why he’d look older than Haarlep when they should be an exact copy. It’s the whole reason he’s been performing, curating this image to us, one that he barely even allows himself to break at home unless he’s enraged. If you look at it for what it is, it’s just insecurity and almost desperation. A desperate desire to be seen as something greater, something akin to his father (daddy issues are making their appearance) and it honestly comes across as erratic, and extreme. 

 

He’s so obsessed with his image that perhaps when Haarlep said they’re a perfect copy of Raphael they didn’t mean as an exact copy, they meant they’re are literally a perfect version of Raphael, a better version (most likely a result of insecurities of how he's perceived). Who can say for sure what the reason is why they look so different if they’re supposed to be mirrors of each other. His whole obsession with is image really matches his father, since Mephistopheles is known to change his appearance and curates it for mortals as well (It's why he's confused with Asmodeus a lot since he just goes for a basic generic devil look). 

One more thing, considering all the characters we meet throughout the game, Raphael is or is one of the oldest characters in-game, seeing as he's possibly 1000+ years old. Considering this, it makes sense that on top of him being a devil anyway, he finds himself detached from mortals as well as his own mortal half. Though he is quite proactive in his contract seeking seeing as he not only seeks us out but characters like Mol and Lyrthindor (Tho that was more towards orchestrating his own goals) Otherwise he can just sit up in his Ivory tower devoid of mortal's strive, I mean he even says multiple times that his house is a safe haven for the tired/sick/restless/etc. On top of him already trying to detach himself from his mortal half, he also has the benefit of being so old that he probably has already become numb to it, to mortal thoughts and feelings. He wouldn't be able to emphasize or understand it (tho him being a devil wouldn't have helped either) all he would understand is how to use their suffering to his own benefit. Any possibility for humanity within Raphael is either so faint it's practically not there or there is none left entirely.  

"Never have I been so attracted to mortals as I am to those infested by the tadpole." 

He even says this himself. Mortals have never had any impact on him, physically or emotionally. Yet in saying that, they've never really been given the chance to. The closest a mortal besides us the player to have ever gotten 'close' to Raphael or have impacted him is Hope. Raphael is not only a complex character but he has so many complex relationships with the few people he lets around him. As I said before Raphael is completely blinded to humanity, he's definitely a person who believes the ends justify the means and that has never been more evident than in what he does with Hope. He doesn't care what It takes just as long as it gets him what he wants, that's why he helps orchestrate the plot to lean in his favor, why he basically tricks Yurgir, and why he has no problem torturing Hope even though she's basically no one to him, she isn't even a debtor.  

Though Raphael is almost completely removed from being anything close to a human being, even after all this time, whether he likes it or not, he still does have some human traits. His interests for one help humanize him (Which tbh he is probably aware of and uses to his advantage) Sure he likes poetry and literature, but he's also just obsessed with everything surrounding Karsus and Hope (or at least the concept) He even names his house The House of Hope and whether he renamed it that after Hope or whether that was it's original name isn't clear but either way he really likes the idea of hope in hell. You can see this throughout his house on the little plaques he has scattered throughout, he definitely wants to be people's last hope or perhaps just hope in general, it would make sense as well since he wants to literally break hope and bend her under his will. 

"Karsus's folly the Bard and Scholars call it. I call it hope, the hope of creating a better world, and The Perils of unchecked hubris"  

(Karsus and Hope are basically his only two special interests that he starts to literally combine them) 

Another very human trait of Raphael’s is that Raphael has a fear of failure. He even has dreams about us destroying everything he's worked for and killing him.  

"There was one among them who spoke for the rest. They gestured to the melting hooks, suddenly glanced my way, and in their face I saw they had the best of me. 

In waking, my courage has firmed. I progress my plans for the tadpoled even now. 

I am Raphael. I am not easily bested." 

Even though he reassures himself that he is Raphael and cannot be easily bested it's clear he's still very desperate. The only variable in his plan that he can't truly control is Us and he definitely knows this. Even other characters like Gale can tell how desperate he is. His facade of Invincibility is one of the tactics he uses against us to keep us in check against him. To be honest, all these things lend to humanizing him far greater than any poetry or quote he could ever spout because it shows his vulnerability, it shows he's not as invincible as he'd like us to believe, that he does have weaknesses and can in fact fail. A very mortal trait to have in all fairness. 

Also on another quick note, he totally has a special interest (obsession) in Karsus, like him seeing Karsus accidentally kill thousands of people in the netherese cities became a core memory for him, one that he’s never let go, even now.  

"The archdevil Mephistopheles snatched up the crown and squirreled it away in one of his vaults. He is not more than a frigid archivist"  

"I want the crown that dominates the Elder brain and then we all Gather in the House of Hope me dressed in my finest silks, you skinless, hanging from a hook to watch as your world dies"  

"you would have been Heroes if you only dealt fairly with me, instead you're not so different to doomed Karsus, overreaching your limits and burning your world to Ash"  

"The screams oh the screams hundreds of thousands of people watching in horror as the ground came up to meet them" 

His ambitions seem to be fueled a lot by his narcissism and this belief that he can achieve all he's set out for and actually do a good job in implementing order, etc. Whether this is a founded belief or not is debatable, since we don't really know what he achieves past supposedly Avernus. 

"Though with the crown, I would impose perfect order, Unity, efficiency, control, my kingdom would control its borders and stay within them" (Sure pal) 

OK, onto the kicker here; Raphael is a very alluring character, he can even come across as flirtatious at times (Also through his body language and I obvs can't demonstrate that here but u get it) Throughout the game he's saying how he'll wine and dine us if we give him what he wants, yet In the ending where we actually give him the crown, I think it's so telling that after all his promises of dining with him and getting to see him again if we deliver it, he literally doesn't follow through at all (There's a debate for this since we don't know if he might've once his plans were done) and this just proves what we were to him; that we were in fact just pawns to him. Even if he does invite us to dine with him, it'll most likely be with a purpose, that he wants something from us or for us to do something for him because otherwise he's gotten all we wanted from us, the facade has been lifted and he doesn't need to try charm or threaten us, he's effectively done with us (literally, since it is an ending). It's all just another aspect of his manipulation and Persona he uses against us (And I mean, It worked) We're all just a means to an end for him. 

ALSO, A little side thing I should note is the silly lil Dark humor Raphael has. Raphael, being a devil and all, definitely has a dark humor. You can defo gather that from his dialogue but also the way he comes up with creative punishments for his debtors. Now some of it is just basic evil shit like the guy who does the Self-flagellation stuff and the one who's forced to act like a dog, but some of it is more than that, like the guy who worships his chamber pot which just so happens to be under the statue of Mephistopheles or the debtor who's forced to dance (which I think is a reference to The Red Shoes story/movie where the character is literally forced to keep dancing) or the chick who just voyeuristically watches what goes down in the boudoir, like yea it's horrible but sometimes it just cartoonishly ridiculous and you can't help but find it somewhat amusing. 

"Hope [Laughter] such a tease" like when he says this, unbeknownst to us, he's referring to the real-life Hope, more of an inside joke to himself really. 

On top of all that - this specific paragraph isn't really poignant to Raphael's character necessarily, it's more of a personal observation but - I think if there were to ever be a romance with Raphael the best option is to not give him the crown (tho I do kinda wanna see him with his lil crown being the prince of hell). It's similar to Gortash, in that if you want to be his equal you shouldn't grovel and just give him the netherese shards, you need to challenge him and show your mettle basically. Now I'm not saying Raphael would be pleased with this, but if you wanted to be an equal, this is the best route, otherwise, there's always going to be that power imbalance like with ascended Astarion. (AKA, kill him, Do It) 

My final point that I wanna make is, that all the characters in Bg3 are designed with a fatal disbelief. Y'know Gale believes if he becomes a god he can prove himself to Mystra, Lae'zeel believes that  Vlaakith is righteous and will allow her to ascend, Shadowheart believes she can find herself/ her purpose in Shar, and Astarion believes he'll finally be safe if he becomes the vampire ascendant, yet we that these believes are all unfounded and end up being untrue wif they achieve them, and the same goes for Raphael. Now, if Raphael achieves his goal of getting the crown, he most likely will still end up not getting what he wants, for two reasons; Asmodeus literally cannot be defeated - Let me explain; So there are a few origins for Asmodeus and to most popularized one (and the one I prefer) is the one where he and some of the other archdevils were actually previously angels that got corrupted while fighting demons. 

Yet, in earlier editions, it's stated that all of that is just speculation and mythos surrounding Asmodeus and his real origin is that he is literally a cosmic force that was there at the beginning of time. OK. Now personally I don't care for this origin but either way, whichever one you believe I think my next point still stands the same. Whether Asmodeus is just a being that has achieved something as close to godhood as he can or a literal cosmic force of lawful evil, Raphael probably would still be unable to defeat him even with the Crown and scepter and any other of Karsus's little items, he most likely if anything could only get to the eighth layer. Now in saying this, this is still not his disbelief, because his personal belief is also one that all devils share, which is a complete lie, that being the entire hierarchy they abide by. Every devil abides by this meritocracy hierarchy, and the belief that if they become more powerful, and ascend - that they can reach Asmodeus status, but this is a complete an utter lie. Asmodeus keeps this facade that he could be defeated, but in truth, he's kinda way too powerful for any of the devils in hell, and he knows this and uses it as a tactic to keep them in his control.  

Now Raphael to some extent knows that he has to basically cheat to be even able to ascend, since he's a cambion and the hells system wasn't exactly designed for him to be promoted. Yet even if he manages to conquer every layer up to Cania, he's still going to lose since he's basically destroying the hierarchy and therefore he won't have control over the devils beneath him. Now the crown can be used to literally dominate people but that's not what Raphael necessarily wants - He wants to be adored and willingly followed, and of course, he'll use the crown when he has to, but to wholly subjugate everyone in hell to mindlessly obey doesn't seem to be his goal. There are more practical reasons as well why there are certain devils that have control over the layers, and Raphael, no matter what power he can possess, is still just one individual, and inevitably it seems as though there would be a lot of chaos rather the perfect order he believes he can achieve. 

I know that the crown can basically make you a god, and if Asmodeus has powers akin to a god and Raphael can theoretically do the same, then why can't he just defeat Asmodeus? well, it goes into Raphael's fatal flaw, his arrogance. If we look at Gale, for example, he made himself a literal god and still wasn't powerful enough to defeat Mystra, and yes, Raphael 'Is no mortal' but this is what I mean, he believes is above Karsus and Gale, that he'll succeed where they failed but that's just not the case. Like I've said before, Raphael desperately wants to be seen as more, his ego won't let him accept anything less but that still doesn't change the fact that he is fallible, and we don't have to look any further than when we managed to defeat him. Now in saying all this, this is all theoretical and kind of bleeds more into an opinion, since we don't know what plays out after he gets Avernus, perhaps the other archdevils managed to kill him before he achieved anything, or perhaps he really did manage to conquer Baator and the other realms, Who knows. (I might be cooked for saying this, especially since I do wanna see him be a lil prince of hell, but arguably giving him the crown, besides being our bad ending, is also his bad ending - No further explanation) 

Like I know I said, this is what I’ve boggled it down to and well, it’s not very boggled, but that’s what I mean! There’s so much going on with this little guy, it’s almost hard to keep up with, you gotta write him as suave and mysterious but also somewhat threatening and intimidating, he has to be articulate and persuasive as well as theatrical, while also keeping in mind his manipulative and narcissistic/egotistical tendencies, which doesn’t come easy to write for. 

This isn’t a slight by any means either, he’s a complicated character and that’s why I like him, but my sorry ass struggles to replicate it 🥲 though I hope this post will be a good reference to circle back to when writing for him. 

[momochanners]

Countdown to Baldur's Gate 3: Day 6

This encounter with Korilla Hearthflame only happens if you've never met Raphael prior to the Goblin stronghold; Personally I've never experienced the bug for myself, but seeing her wonky exit in someone else's game was hilarious!

[thoselittleboats]

Raphael + MTG Cards

(With exception of Raphael, Master of the House and Korilla, the cards are based on preexisting ones. If you're curious I included them below)

Raphael, Fiendish Savior is his official card

Raphael's Final Act = Kardur's Vicious Return

Infernal Contract = Demonic Pact

Doomed, Detected, and Caught = Blazing Hope

I'm a longtime MTG fan and felt like playing again after finishing BG3! I made these for fun. If you play MTG Arena too, feel free to reach out!

[dirtybg3confessions]

Confession: Not enough Korrilla love. After working with Raphael she must be so stressed and tired ??? Come on I would let her use me as stress relief and be in charge for once. Love her. Wish I could steal her away and give her all the love she wants.

[bharv]

Beegeethree writers who decided that dwarven women are objects of desire, are canny businesswomen, are agents of the fucking devil, I am kissing you on the mouth with tongue

[gothitelleex]

I love Raphael from BG3.

He's a complex character and I absolutely adore every take I've seen and the different prospectives on his character from the fandom.

I also signed the petition for the romance route. But honestly speaking: I want an ending where Tav/Durge/OC gets to decide join him in conquering the 9 layers of hells. I don't even care if it's only as a foot soldier! Or even better, a maid! I honestly would still enjoy it nevertheless.

So. This made me think: what would be like to work under Raphael?

(This is my personal take, so don't come at me please, I have anxiety. Also, I might have gone really deep into the argument in my own way, have mercy.)

(Spoilers under the cut for act 2, 3 and post final boss)

Generally speaking + surviving methods: we get some details from the game already on how Raphael's behaves as a boss. He can be absolutely cruel and straight up torture you if you screw up big time or even small time (or in the case of Hope, he'll keep you in his basement if you don't play along with his whims and refuse to submit). He could scorch your fingers for minimum mistakes (like we read in the house of hope, pardon me I don't remember if it was a diary or not, where he described the performances of the people working under him). What these minimum mistakes could be? For how I see it, it could be when one of his warlocks/debtors are late, or they aren't dressed the part, or they accidentally knocked something down, ect.

Raphael strikes me as the tipe who wants everything to be perfect in his standards at every moment. He also loves to have everything and everyone around him under control, and he is more or less quick to anger; so to survive, the worker would need to be an expert in his mood swings too, and they would need the capacity to dose their words well in some situations. Raphael would want perfection, so the worker should at least be good at covering up their mishap unless they want to join the lemurs.

Would bootlicking work? I think he's not so stupid to not realize when people are sucking up to him, so I believe it could be fine depending on the situation. I also think the bootlicking shouldn't be too obvious or he may think the person in front of him is making fun of him and that could result in death. Or worse: it's hell, who knows what could happen there.

Of course I believe he can be a gentle boss as long as you live up to his standards: something that is almost impossible, and I say almost since Korilla exist. That woman got her fingers scorched a few time and that was it, and I'm pretty sure she's the only one who didn't get punished more severely.

Korilla is the idol of every loyal worker to Raphael, I can bet my soul on that! Everyone who works with her envies her and/or take example from her.

Long story short: if you want to survive while working under Raphael, be Korilla. ʕ　·ᴥ·ʔ👍🏻

Post ending: durge and co have defeated the Nether brain and it's now time to fulfill the deal and give the crown to Raphael.

Now, speaking of the game. I'm going to use Durge because it's my durge Iris that would be crazy enough to sell her soul to be a servant of Raphael. That drow is batshit crazy, but that's a story for another post.

So Raphael comes to collect his crown at Wither's party, and durge not only kneels to give it to him, but they also ask to be granted the honor of working under him in order to see the Archdevil Supreme Raphael's triumph! Raphael would accept and create a new contract, I believe.

Your Durge has accepted Bhaal? No problem! They just have to tell daddy dearest that mortals aren't a worthy sacrifice, so they decided to start their murder spree with devils! Hey, besides it's a war in the hells, there is no place for morality there, so Durge could go crazy without restrain. I believe in this case Raphael wouldn't trust Durge to remain loyal to him and put aside Bhaal's orders, so he would take precautions in any case. Whatever your Durge would want to betray Raphael in the end or not, it would add more spice to the already complicated situation in the hells and in their relationship, whatever it is. I like to think how the situation could lead to a delicious psychological dark romance! In this case I imagine Raphael using every chance to subtly remind Durge who's boss. And unless Durge really enrages him, I don't think he would stop being polite, especially because it was Durge who gave him the crown. My ideal ending if this scenario would be Durge usurping Bhaal and take his place as the God of murder, while also being married to the Archdevil Supreme of the nine hells, Raphael. ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ💅🏻

If your Durge is a resist Durge? In this case things would be less violent and I believe Raphael would be less wary of them in general, tho in the case of a contract, I doubt he would be as kind as he was before when he needed something from them. Now they're his to command, he's not just a simple ally to them anymore. So Durge would need to be Korilla 2.0. And as much I'd like the contrary, I don't think Raphael would have someone work closely under him without a contract. So, yet again, praise Korilla for her existence.

Long story short again: be Korilla. ᕦʕ •ᴥ•ʔᕤ

If you've read everything, just know that I love you🪅

P. S: I would work for him as a maid who cleans just to enjoy all the drama while being in the sideline. Just let me be a random NPC who cleans and secretly simps for their boss lol.

P.p.s: I love you Korilla, please just a chance!

[wyrmskulls]

cool thing happened. by accident. HUGE BG3 Spoilers.

So I'm trying to test what will allow a good run Minthara recrutement.

My method was to do as much of the game as I could leaving the goblin camp for last. So I could test what ways to deal with Minthara- speed run straight to moonrise and see if she is there.

SO this included doing the whole Grymforge. And getting Barcus Wroot in camp (this haddent worked for me before, my first two runs were bugged) So for the first time- he was in camp for the tiefling party, already cool.

Even cooler in the BG there's Korilla sneaking away XD just thought I'd share two brand new things for me.

[frostybearpaws]

okay no one is talking NEARLY enough about Korilla Hearthflame like y’all

LOOK AT HER

Look at that smile

I am demanding that you look at this dwarf lady, why are so many people sleeping on her character?

Korilla deserves more love!

[molinaesque]

It's confirmed... Raphael won't shut up about the MC.

When he said "I've grown quite fond of you, you know, in my way" in Act II... He wasn't lying.

[ineadhyn]

Direct from Hell Logistics

[psychspark]

BG3 WIKI IS THAT THE WORD FOR WHAT SHE IS? IS SHE HIS FAMILIAR? IS THAT WHAT WE'RE CALLING IT NOW?

[cambion-companion]

Baldur's Gate 3 spoilers but...

I might take Raphael's deal...and no NOT because he's hot as hell and I desire him carnally. But because I see no downsides...if he wants to try and become Devil Supreme whatever fine. Good luck mate! 🫡

Also Korilla made a good argument for him.

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

Greensleeves Chapter Twelve: First Light

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Wordcount: 5.1k Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Fantasy Racism

The druid Halsin is rescued. Xaph sets out on a solo mission to kill one of the goblin leaders - Priestess Gut. She runs into complications that force her to share her secret with her companions. Xaph and Gale share a moment of magic

Read on AO3 Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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Xaph walks alone through the goblin camp. With hope, the rest of her party have found each other and found a bolt-hole. With hope, they’ll stay put and not start a fight they can’t win. She does not doubt that if she takes too long a scout will be sent out for her. Shadowheart, probably, dauntless as she is. Or Astarion, stealth itself. Besides, without the druid looming over Xaph’s shoulder she can ask the priestess whatever she likes. Goblins direct her to their priestess’ chambers, though she refuses all offers of personal escort. There’s a halfling outside Gut’s door, trading. She bears the signature pin of the Zhentarim. Best to keep her distance. Xaph is permitted entry by the sentries that guard Gut’s door.

“About time!” the priestess crows, impatient, “You came alone. Smart. No need to share our power with those who don’t deserve it, eh?” The room is hurriedly and shoddily put together. A table, a cooking pot, a roaring fire. A rotting bookshelf next to another door. There are more bones, more antlers. More death. Gut gestures Xaph towards a chair, one of its legs bound in rope, and she obeys. This is not a safe place, but Xaph doesn’t yet feel like prey. She still feels like the hunter in this situation, luring the goblin into a trap. A trap that she must lay in her mind.

“I’m ready.” Xaph tells her, and when Priestess Gut starts to probe her thoughts again she lets her. They share vision as Gut sorts through memories for the origin of the tadpole. She sees the mindflayer holding the squirming worm up to Xaph’s eye, shares the sensation of the thing burying itself into her skull. The vision flips without warning. Gut kneels as the Chosen pushes a worm into her eye socket too. She cries the name of the Absolute. When she realises Xaph has infiltrated her thoughts, she reels back.

“Hells. We need to fish that thing out before it gets to the important parts of your brain.”

“Then get it out of me.” Xaph tells her. Does she not know she has her own tadpole? Has it taken that memory from her already, or is she in denial? What exactly is her plan?

“Don’t you worry. I’ve got everything I need to fix you,” Priestess Gut moves towards the fire she likes fire and sorts through belongings piled on the floor until she finds a tall blue bottle, “Might get a bit messy though.”

“As I told you,” Xaph says, not allowing her voice to shake, “I’m ready. What does your plan involve?”

“It involves you putting your trust in the Absolute. Simple,” she returns to the tiefling and offers her the bottle, “Being a True Soul, you know the Absolute doesn’t like to touch nothin’ unclean. So drink this. It’ll purify you.”

This is a bad idea. A bad idea. Never drink unlabelled potions. This one holds no smell, and that’s worse. Poison? She might be able to withstand poison, if it’s weak enough. She takes the bottle. Her tail lifts behind her, searching for the handle of her handaxe. She drinks the potion.

She shouldn’t have. Oh, she really shouldn’t have. Her tail flails, writhing out of her control and dropping her axe. It’s not poison, no. A sleep potion. She can feel it in her limbs, numbness overtaking them. Her legs fail and she tips backwards, her head cracking on the stone floor she hits. Before her eyes fall closed she sees the goblin priestess, a smile showing all her rotting teeth.

“Sweet dreams, ugly.”

***

Xaph is woken by a firm hand yanking at her horn. She hisses the moment her eyes open, baring her teeth and shaking he head to try and hit whoever had grabbed her. Priestess Gut stands in front of her. Level. Xaph’s on her knees and she can’t move her legs. Her ankles have been bound and her wrists have been cuffed behind her back and a chain connects the two. The priestess lunges forward and grabs a horn again and Xaph growls at her but she can hardly move. Her head is still swimming, aching, and fresh pain blooms from the horn that’s being pulled. Something has dried on the back of her neck, sticking her hair to her nape. Blood. From when she’d hit the floor. Xaph wriggles. The cuffs are too tight and they bite into her wrists.

“Don’t bother struggling. You ain’t goin’ nowhere. The Absolute wants to know all about that critter in your head, so start talking.” Gut demands. Past the cell door, Xaph can see an ogre with what looks like half a tree in her hands. Where are the others? Have they been caught? How long was Xaph out? There’s no way to tell, stuck in stone, not a single crack in the walls. Gut slams a fist down between Xaph’s horns. “Talk.”

“You’re out of luck, Gut,” Xaph manages, just, to raise her chin to make eye contact with the goblin, though her neck screams at the movement. At least there isn’t a collar tight about her throat. Xaph smiles, and her lips crack and split, too dry for the teeth-baring grin, “I don’t know any more than you do.”

“Liar!” Xaph’s punished for her smiles with a sharp slap that she refuses to react to, “We’ve both seen the monster that put it there. And I know what happens next.”

“You’re infected. It’s going to happen to you too.” Xaph tries to conjure the image the priestess had unwittingly shown her.

“Stop trying to confuse me! You’re a liar. Everything’s been clear to me since the Absolute chose me. You’re the one that’s broken,” the goblin leans in close, holding Xaph’s head still by the horns, “Do you even know who you are anymore?”

“I am Xaphania Amystacis, the Sunset Ranger. And I am in control.”

“Maybe that’s what the creature wants you think. It’s gonna eat your flesh. Changing you. An’ eventually your skull will split and you’ll cough up a mass of tentacles.” In the corner of Xaph’s eye, red sparks fly from an innocuous stone.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Xaph tells her.

“You think you’re special, do you? You’re not. I’m gonna keep you here so I can see every gory detail, and hear every whimper and scream. Wonder if you’ll keep these handles of yours. Easier to keep you in line with these.” She knocks at the horns again before she leaves. The door locks. Thick iron bars, just the same as Halsin had been kept behind. Xaph doesn’t have the strength of a bear. She strains against the chains, but they’re well-forged and strong. Her ankles and wrists are connected to each other, but more chains snake from her ankles to the walls on either side of her, from her wrists to the ceiling. They’re designed to hold a mind flayer. Xaph has no chance. She tries anyway, roaring her disgust at the grimy feeling of someone’s hands on her horns. Her tail is still asleep, and even as she struggles the potion starts to bring her down again.

She’s hit once, twice, to wake her up again, the second hit sending her reeling to the side before the chains catch her and she struggles back to an upright position. 

“Open your peepers, freak. It’s past time.” She’d fallen unconscious again. How long has she been gone? “You should be sprouting tentacles by now, but you the same kind of hells-born ugly you always were,” the slur glances off Xaph’s cheek, nothing to the ache in her jaw from the previous blows, “Disappointing not to have my own squiddie,” there they are again, those red sparks swirling into a circle. The smell of cherries punches through the stink of urine as a dwarf steps through the portal. She wears deep red robes, trimmed in gold, and holds a wicked dagger. Before Priestess Gut can finish her proposition of eating Xaph’s organs, the dagger slides cleanly across her throat. A guttural roar from behind the goblin signals the death of the ogre. Gut crumples at the hands of the dwarf, choking on air and blood. 

“Korilla. Long time no see.” Xaph tries to pull on that smile again, but she struggles.

“I wish it had been longer.”

“Me too,” Xaph shakes her limbs to bring feeling back into them, “Get me out of here?”

“The master insists.” Korilla sighs. She’d be content to leave Xaph here to rot and the tiefling knows that, but she works for Raphael and her appearance here proves that Xaph is still a valuable investment. With a twist of her fingers, the cuffs around her ankles and wrists fall loose. Xaph brings her arms back to her front and finds her wrists bleeding. She holds them out to Korilla and rather likes the disgusted look she gets in return, “I save your life, I don’t make it better.” She leaves Xaph to struggle back to her feet by herself.

“What are your orders?” Xaph asks her, wobbling on still-numb legs and struggling to balance herself out with her tail.

“To take you back to your friends. I don’t have a job for you, not yet,” Korilla tells her. With reluctance, she holds out her arm for Xaph to take. Red-and-gold sparks swirl around the two of them, transporting them. When they land, Korilla releases Xaph and lets her fall to the ground. Several voices shout and she can hear weapons being drawn. A dog barks. She knows these voices. “You’re still on a leash, Xaphania. It can always be tightened.” Korilla reminds her. She dissolves back into nothingness before Astarion can hit her, launching himself from the shadows. He lands hard on the floor next to Xaph, jarring his wrist and swearing. Sulphur and cyanide hang heavy in the air as multiple people race towards Xaph.

“Oh you are bleeding.” Astarion informs her, using her as leverage to get himself up. Did he just lick his hand?

“I’m aware.” Xaph grumbles. He doesn’t offer to help her up, leaving that to the others who have rushed to her defence. Lae’zel is still holding her sword, Shadowheart a shining flail that wobbles in time with her plait. Xaph is fixated on the movement until hands touch her. They burn holes into her skin and crawl inside her body and-

Raphael has gifted her an illusion. A hex, a curse. A punishment, no doubt conveyed through Korilla’s touch. Fucking cambion. Her companions are good-hearted enough that when a shriek splits her lips and she tries to scramble backwards with unresponsive limbs they retreat but the sensation of their hands stays, like bugs creeping over and under her skin. Wyll darts away, looking for something, but Gale stays. He’s saying her name until she looks at him, until she finds his eyes. Not honeypots, it’s too dark in here. There’s no sun. There’s no light there’s no- Xaph. Forgive me. A hand presses itself to her stomach. A brand burning into her skin. Words are said and she doesn’t know if they are blessing or curse until soft light glows before her. Icy blue, emanating from Gale’s fingers. Her skin stops boiling, sews back together. The bugs, the hands, the brand, they’re gone.

“A curse. The priestess holds more power than I thought.” Not Gale’s voice. The druid. Halsin. He’s there too. Unharmed. Scars track lines down one side of his face and swirls of red pattern the other half. Paint or tattoos?

“Not the priestess,” at least her voice is cooperating, “She’s dead.” These words ripple out amongst her companions. Shadowheart and Lae’zel lower their weapons. Halsin, the druid, the druid, they found the druid they saved him, turns to Gale for a brief moment and thanks him before looking at Xaph again. He lifts his hands and magic flows around them, light green and fresh-smelling.

“May I?” He asks. He asks. Xaph may well cry, but she doesn’t. She nods and gives herself over to the druid, then the cleric once Shadowheart’s satisfied they’re not going to be ambushed. Bits of Xaph’s body glow alternately chartreuse and turquoise as the healers mumble quiet words, Shadowheart’s brow furrowed in concentration while Halsin’s voice rumbles through Xaph’s battered ribs.

“Who was that?” Wyll asks. She has to tell them. The truth. To do otherwise would put them in danger, she sees that now. Her eyes find Gale’s and he nods. Encouraging. He knows she has to tell them.

“Korilla Hearthflame. Raphael’s favourite warlock,” Xaph lets Halsin guide her head down so he can get to the wound that is sticking her hair to her neck, “Remember when I told you I didn’t have a deal with him?”

She tells them. She tells them everything. That she’s indebted to Raphael for twenty years of work, just under ten of which are still ahead of her. How he hasn’t cashed in this year’s job and that should scare them. When she mentions Raphael interrogating her and Lae’zel asks what she means Xaph admits that she’d been kept in the House of Hope for almost two years before she managed to squeeze a deal from the cambion. Before he got bored and killed her. Wyll looks at her with ten tonnes of pity and when he takes her hand and links their fingers he might as well be holding her heart. You did what you had to do. Astarion tries to get annoyed about her discouraging them from a deal with the devil when she already had one but Wyll’s glare quiets him soon enough. When her story is done, little is said. One by one they leave her with the healers to pitch their tents and Xaph can finally look at their surroundings. An empty room, air stale, with all doors and windows but the one Shadowheart had broken through boarded up. Selune stands in stone at the centre, and their tents are being arranged in a circle around her. Wyll finds Xaph’s and makes it up for her. Scratch the dog plods over, sets his head on Xaph’s knee, and sleeps.

***

It’s decided that they should rest. Xaph has Shadowheart catch her up on what had happened over the day-and-a-half she’d been missing. None of the goblins have realised Priestess Gut is dead, believing her to be in seclusion to communicate with the Absolute. While Xaph had been gone, the party had left Halsin in the camp with the dog both to protect him and in case she should come back. Astarion had been set to sneaking around the camp to try and find her while the others had taken care of Dror Ragzlin, the hobgoblin. They’d found him trying to raise a dead mind flayer to question and sustained their own share of injuries battling his goblin-and-drow bodyguard.

Xaph casts her eyes about the chamber. It’s too quiet in here. There’s the syncopated drip of a leak, the rustling of her companions and the dog’s pattering paws, but she can’t hear the trees or the birds or see the sky. She stands and starts to walk to reassure herself that her legs are useable. Gale is realms away, standing outside his tent. She can tell that as soon as she sets eyes on him. His spatial awareness still isn’t the greatest, ridiculously easy to surprise. His back is to the rest of the camp, and Xaph is trying not to think about why her eyes pull to him instead of anyone else until she sees what’s hovering over his palm. Lilac light, sculpted into a bust. A woman’s head. Her hair flows past his fingers, and a diadem rests above her eyebrows. The face is unmarked, her nose and cheekbones and jaw perfectly rounded to give the illusion of softness. Mystra. 

“Pretty.” The word falls out unbidden, and the light winks out as Gale loses concentration. Gooseflesh pimples Xaph’s arms, a rare sensation. The scent of rosewater wafts over her, and it feels as though her lungs are clogged, bruised ribs contracting. Mystra is watching her former favoured, and she doesn’t appreciate Xaph’s interruption.

“You startled me. I…I was miles away.” Gale asks. Xaph smiles, small and friendly and safe, even as her throat dries.

“I could tell. Are you alright?”

“You’re asking me?” There it is, that exhale of a laugh, “I wasn’t drugged and imprisoned by goblins.”

“Tieflings are made of strong stuff.” Xaph tells him. The corner of his mouth twitches downwards, and those puppy-dog eyes of his fix themselves on a specific part of Xaph’s face. Gale lifts a hand and ghosts it over his jaw,

“You can’t see the bruises.” Hells, the man is made of compassion and concern and he redirects it away from himself at any given opportunity.

“I’ll be fine,” Xaph assures him, “Let me check in with you.”

“Doing the rounds, eh? I’m fine, I assure you,” he’s parroting her words back to her, “Unharmed, not locked in a dungeon-”

“I know what Mystra looks like, Gale,” Xaph interrupts. Why did she decide to speak to him when she saw the vision of his goddess floating above his hand? Why does she want to push this so much, he knows her views on the gods, “I’m sorry if I interrupted a prayer. I’ll leave you be-”

“No. No, you’re alright. Not a prayer, just an incantation. Stay.” Stay. She shouldn’t. She wants to. The bones in her abdomen ache, the after-effects of the sleep potions working itself out. Her wrists are still rubbed raw to bleeding point under her sleeves from too-tight restrains. Halsin had smoothed a healing ward around her wrists that makes them smell of pine, but every time Xaph moves her hands she feels the tight pull of upset skin. Gale has a stool, just outside his tent. She submits to pain. Her tail wraps around one of the legs so she doesn’t have to walk to it, and she drags the stool until it’s close enough to sit on. She settles, looking up at her companion with clearer thoughts, 

“Talk to me.” She wants to hear him talk. Gale has a way of explaining things that she could listen to all day, always with immense respect and feeling. She wants to hear his voice.

“What about?”

“Anything,” the sigh this word comes out on is ragged. Exhausted, “It’s too quiet.”

So he talks. Magic is a favourite subject and animates him even more than usual. Xaph’s eyes are fixed on his fingers as they move through the air, his hand working through the somatic components of several spells. Some of the movements she recognises. One is a somewhat clumsy attempt at the lasso imitation needed to conjure a thorn whip, a spell Xaph herself has been studying after seeing it used in the grove. Gale speaks of magic the same way bards speak of music, and between practice-casting his hands move as though conducting a band. From what he says, magic inspires similar feelings for him as music does for bards. Xaph makes a conscious decision not to comment on Mystra, letting him talk for as long as he needs to. Her shoulders sink slowly, the pain in her wrists fading. The very end of her tail slides back and forth across the ground while Gale talks.

“You put it beautifully.” She tells him when he pauses. And he does, her dislike for gods and Mystra aside. He could convince almost anyone to abandon their god for the Weave.

“Would you like to experience this?” Something has ignited in his eyes, bright enough to rival any flame. Xaph’s lips part in confusion, and her tongue traces her top teeth,

“Experience…magic?” Sure, she’s no sorcerer, but she’s thrown her fair share of fiery bolts, entrapped more than her fair share of adversaries in conjured vines.

“The Weave.” His teeth catch on his bottom lip. That spark in his eyes reaches the smile he gives her.

“Show me what you mean.”

“Follow my lead.”

Xaph accepts the hand Gale offers her, and she admittedly puts a little more weight on him than she normally would. He’s gentler than usual this time, which is saying something. Like she’s a lady he’s leading into a dance. Avoiding her wrist. He doesn’t take her far, just out of sight of the rest of the camp. Separate. Half-hidden by his tent. She lets him guide her, careful hands on her shoulders to put her in place. He stands in front of her for a brief moment and meets her eyes. Xaph isn’t sure if he’s assessing her placement, though that shouldn’t be important, or if some new idea has occurred to him. It’s similar to the look he gets when he has a new idea. Gale makes a point of holding her gaze as he moves to stand just behind her and Xaph twists to maintain contact. She’s not one to back down from a challenge, and she’s still trying to define exactly what his expression means. His eyes are so deep and dark they could hold anything. He stands behind her, but only just, needing only to tip his weight forward to touch his shoulder with hers. He watches her for a moment longer than necessary. She doesn’t mind. She hides in the shadows, in the leaves, in the earth. To be seen, to be watched is out of the norm. Warmth runs down her arms and collects in her fingers. It can be nice to be seen, when she wants to be.

Gale looks away, but only to watch his hands. Xaph returns to her own previous study. Gale’s hands meet, then part, and meet again, fostering a fluctuating sphere of lilac energy between his palms. It looks as though it comes as easily to him as breathing. Where Xaph must focus her magic into a sharp arrow-point and risk missing her mark, where Astarion fuels acidic attacks with anger and loses some of his grace for it, where even Shadowheart leaves herself open to attacks to try to protect a friend, Gale just seems to be. His words ring true. Magic is his life, however hindered it might be by the toxic combination of illithid tadpole and his strange magical sickness. The sphere of energy pushes forward when Gale pulls his hands apart again. It expands, growing thin and transparent and sparkling like a soap bubble before dissolving into an imitation of a nebula. This evolution happens within the span of a few seconds, but each stage is distinct. 

“Now you.” Xaph looks at her companion again. She can’t do that, and she’s about to tell him, but she’s distracted. The thin black lines that crawl up from Gale’s chest to his eye have a purple sheen to them. She’s seen this happen once or twice before, but she hasn’t learned what causes it. The sheen turns to light, and as it does she feels comfortable warmth settle on her shoulders where Gale’s hands had been. She can do it, he’s made himself a conduit, strengthening what hold she has over the Weave. Her tail lifts from the ground as she turns her attention to imitating Gale’s gestures. The same process occurs, with the bubble of energy, though the phases of its evolution are much faster, “Excellent,” it feels good, the same thrill she gets when she hits her mark with an arrow extended and calmed, “Now, repeat after me.” The words are unfamiliar, but the power of them is immense. They almost echo as they fall, effortlessly, out of Gale’s mouth, reverberating off the nearby rocks. Xaph pays close attention to how his lips move, just to get it right, of course, and does her best with the unfamiliar incantation. Mystra’s name. Ao’s. Gale is invoking ancient powers. There’s another flash of purple light, though brief, and the feeling of a rose petal stuck to Xaph’s tongue. Rosewater, more rosewater, like Mystra’s trying to drown them in it. Xaph’s nose is sensitive enough that it is not all she smells. She focuses on the smell of old books, of weavemoss. The same feeling of comfort is still sitting on her shoulders, a welcome weight. Their eyes meet again. Gale’s smile is small, but it’s warm as sunlight. Proud?

“Very good,” Xaph smiles back, enough to feel her eye teeth pushing against her lips. His words hum around her ribs, making her forget the ache. She’s never felt magic like this, as close as her clothing. He could convince almost anyone to abandon their god. “Now, I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can.” 

Xaph breathes in deeply through her nose, filling her lungs. She catches the scent of thyme. She had found some growing wild by the copse of trees they’d left behind. Gale had used it to enhance a vegetable stew according to a recipe Wyll could remember from a visit to Neverwinter. She breathes out through her mouth, closing her eyes. Her nose twitches with the return of her smile. The mountains. Everything comes back to the mountains. Sitting in the grass, watching it undulate in inscrutable patterns that every blade seemed to know and follow. Flat rocks are at her side, offering a better seat, but she preferred the soil. Tiny star-shaped pinky-purple flowers poked out between the cracks of the rocks. Thyme. Its scent carried on the breeze when Xaph rolled it between her fingers. Following the patterns of the grass. That was harmony to her. The balance of nature. The unknowable music it follows. In another life she would have been a very annoying druid.

An unidentifiable sound startles her out of her vision. A rush of wind, a tiny roll of thunder, but not quite natural enough for either of those. Xaph steps back, tail swishing apprehensively, and knocks into Gale. He doesn’t say anything, but a warm hand presses into the small of her back to steady her, retreating when his pinkie finger brushes the base of her tail and it twitches. A circle of the same purple energy they had cradled in their hands has formed around them, and though the circle’s about six feet wide it feels as though the ribbons of magic are tied around their waists. Warmth radiates from Gale, as it always does, but not the way it crackles off Xaph. No devilry in his blood. It blooms wherever contact is made, as though he’s crumbling fire amber over her skin. She can identify the pride in his laugh this time, in yet another smile that splits his face in two. He smiles so easily, so generously. Xaph’s teeth scare people.

“You did it,” he doesn’t even sound surprised, and something in Xaph’s chest swells, “You’re channelling the Weave,” he’d moved a few steps away to inspect the glowing circle around them, pulling at the invisible ribbon, but he comes back to Xaph and faces her, “How does it feel?” 

How does it feel? Gale’s voice has dropped, soft as feather-down, and it plucks at strings in that puffed-up and proud part of her chest. Her mouth is dry. She swallows while she scrambles for any coherent answer. Her tongue passes between her lips to relieve the dryness. Gale’s eyes track the movement. How does it feel? Effortless, in a way. Like she’s being held. By him, not by Mystra. Enveloped in a book. Fresh mountain air. Anticipatory. 

“You’re good at this,” for all her efforts, the words are scarcely more than a whisper. Not her practised hushed tones for hunting. Whispers, as if in a library, or contained within a crystal ball, “Teaching,”

“Oh, I know.” He tells her. Xaph laughs, a small sound in the back of her throat that leaks into her words,

“And a very humble teacher, too.”

“The paragon of modesty.” Gale plays along, and the strings in Xaph’s chest ping again, lyre-like. They’ve pulled together again, like magnets. Magic isn’t doing that, though it thrums under Xaph’s skin. They’re breathing the same air. Rosewater is a distant memory in the face of thyme, ink, lavender. Her tails curls upwards. Anticipatory. His hair is falling across his temples. She wants to smooth it back. Those lines from the orb, not always noticeable on his face, are still glowing faintly. She wants to trace the lines up his neck, over his jaw, to his cheekbone. She wants to hold his hand again, to find the pulse in his wrist. Make it jump. She lays the image of the mountains over what she’s seeing, making grass push through the cracks in the stone slabs of the floor. He fits well there, in her space. They would stand at the top of the mountain and she would hold his hands as though the wind could whisk him away, the wizard as light as his laugh. She wants to know what the Sunset Mountains would do to his eyes. Gods, she wants. Anticipatory.

“I…I didn’t think,” The mountaintop disappears. Gale’s face has fallen. The warmth is gone from Xaph’s shoulders. He’s gone. He was in her head. Between the Weave and the tadpole, they’d almost become of one mind. He’d seen her wants. She can still feel him, his emotions. Embarrassment. Well, that she understands, even as his face colours she feels heat rise in her own cheeks. Shame, for just a moment, hells. Elation. Elation. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting-”

“-I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Didn’t what? Didn’t mean it? Didn’t know he’d see it?

“-But it is a pleasant image, to be sure-”

“-it’s just-”

“-Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome.” Gale has the last word. The barest hint of a smile thinks about forming, or maybe that’s wishful thinking. His face is still flushed, and Xaph knows that her eyes are wide. Most welcome? What does that even mean? Something brushes against her hand. A single finger, hooking one of hers. A pinky-promise.

The purple band of Weave around them evaporates and cold air rushes between them. The dog barks, the yelps translating into words for Xaph and she takes the opportunity of an exit, coward,  “Astarion, if you bite the dog I will ram a tree branch so far up your arse-” She darts away to save Scratch. She can’t even look at the wizard because she doesn’t know what she’s going to say if she does but her chest is deflating and something aches when he calls good night. She doesn’t even hear the next part, too busy insulting Astarion to cover her blundering. I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you.