#netherese orb blast

[carduelism]

YOU SHOULD NETHERESE ORB BLAST YOURSELF… NOW!

[upwards-descent]

okay so im a bg3 girlie and for some reason your post from like months ago about wanting us to blow up your inbox keeps showing up on my fyp so here I am (anon bc I am shy). im a lesbian but gale is husband anyways what do you think he likes to cook

Aw yay well welcome! ♥️ Gale def strikes me as the type to be like "hold up, this is gonna take all day to cook, stay outta the kitchen" and he takes like all the daylight hours to make the best fucking stew you've ever had in your life. Also technically he should be good at baking because as a NERD he'd understand it's more a science than an art but the idea of him struggling to make simple cakes is too funny to me

[gayfranziska]

i need to find a better thing to say than "what if i exploded" whenever i experience a minor inconvenience because now when i do that i need to put my emotional breakdown on pause to go "haha nice gale of waterdeep reference" and that really puts a damper on the whole thing

[astarioffsimpmain]

Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)

[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)

Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3

Part 2 Here

The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner. 

You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.

You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind. 

The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw. 

So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind. 

This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words. 

"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away." 

"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart." 

My heart. 

You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze. 

"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you." 

As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little. 

"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew." 

Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl. 

Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest. 

"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened. 

"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest. 

"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent. 

"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside. 

"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so. 

"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself. 

fin

[sxddekarios]

a very wholesome magic lesson

i am back with a bg3 rebranding!! this is the first fic i've ever wrote, and it's my take on Gale's act 1 romance scene at the tiefling party. Him and Tav are both oblivious to the others' feelings. read on ao3 or here!

2.2k words (of fluff)

---------------------

“I think it’s best in my condition if I don’t get too excited,” Gale reminds himself.

“Well, who said anything about excitement? Surely you’re not *that* keen on a little magic trick. I’ve seen you do plenty of other magic.” Tav responds with her signature furrowed brows.

“It’s not … the magic, per-say. More what comes with it. Though perhaps I’ve had too much wine for this conversation.” Gale attempts to stop him self, as he usually does when he’s bitten off a bit too much to chew in the flirting department.

“For what conversation? I just want to learn some more magic. There’s no way I can go enjoy our celebration, and sleep, after this cliffhanger…” Tav trails off, trying to bait him into explaining without having to fish too directly (or embarrassingly) for it.

Gale raises an eyebrow at Tav, knowing that he’s never been able to turn down an ask of hers before. He got into this mess with the orb by being a pleaser, after all. “Have a glass of wine and I’ll see if I can handle making this much of an ass of myself” Gale sighs.

Tav grabs his glass of wine and takes a tentative sip. She makes a face, disgusted by the tartness. Luckily, she manages to swallow the offending liquid. “This is all you’re getting from me, I’m afraid. Unless you can magic this into something bearable, or you’re hiding some other vices somewhere in that tent of yours, you’re gonna have to deal with talking to a sober person right now.”

Gale looks at her in mock astonishment — “Have you no taste? Have you never drank wine before? This is a *delectable* indulgence that clearly you have not been educated on. Or, perhaps, you lack the sophistication that i’ve grown terribly used to in Waterdeep.”

Tav grimaces while preparing herself for her next attempt to shut Gale up …. at least telling him how he *should* shut up, that is. Letting out a deep breath, she grabs hold of Gale’s glass and chugs it. As much as she can anyways, which still takes an eternity too long to ensure she doesn’t choke. “It’s still horrendous. But we’re even now. Spill, before I do.”

Gale glances at the empty glass in disappointment, but holds onto it. He steels himself for his next words while keeping his eyes downward. “If you must know, I speak of … physical excitement. I can handle magic, but my heart may not be able to handle … more carnal conditions of the flesh. With the orb, I risk exploding with any activity, or *feeling*, that gets my heart beating too fast, my blood pressure too high,” Gale explains.

Tav raises an eyebrow in response. “Like, you’re gonna explode as in ….” she trails off again, hoping he’ll take the hint. She knows he must be referring to the catastrophic Netherese blast they had spoken of before, but she couldn’t help herself from teasing him about the double entendre.

The blush taking over Gale’s face and neck came on far too suddenly for him to blame it on the wine. “No! Gods no, not like that! The magic in the orb will destroy me and everything around me,” Gale exclaims. Much to his avail, Tav still doesn’t stop her line of questioning.

Crossing her arms, Tav decides to enjoy the flustered nature of a blushing, tipsy Gale. “Okay, but you’re still saying you’d explode …. literally …. because you’d explode …. sexually. You said you wanted to show me a *magic* trick, not fuck my brains out.”

She pauses for a second when he lets out an indignant gasp at her directness. “Unless I’m mistaken on what a magic trick is, in which case I think you should’ve lead with that,” Tav finished with a smirk, finally meeting his eyes. She can feel the exasperation exuding from the wizard, and she loves every second of it.

Gale has no choice but to shake his head in lack of a coherent response to Tav’s brazen words. “I suppose you’ve got me there. I can show you some magic, no nefarious subterfuge. And no explosions of any kind, mortal *or* magical,” he emphasized.

Tav worries at her lip for show. “You really won’t blow up, right? Or you’ll at least warn me if you feel too much … *excitement*, stirring? We can’t leave scratch an orphan.” She thinks of mentioning the chaos that Astarion would unleash without them to reel him in, but she didn’t want to darken the mood too much.

Gale smiles at her words and lets out a little laugh as he promises that they’ll be safe. He holds out his hand, palm up, for her to take. Tav takes a hard look at his fingers for a moment, trying to commit their beauty to memory, before gently laying her hand atop his and intertwining their fingers to be led farther out of the camp. Once they reach a more quiet spot a few minutes later, Gale stops, forfeiting her warm hand to turn to her.

“This will do. Now, I want to show you the true embrace of the Weave. It’s a full-body experience to wield the Weave and feel its support of your magic,” Gale says with a smile on his face and wonder in his eyes. Tav categorizes this as his professor face, imagining him introducing lessons to his students with this pure enthusiasm.

Nevertheless, she’s more comfortable bickering with Gale than sharing that heart-warming thought with him. “You know i’m a sorcerer, right? I’ve been using the Weave my whole life. Unlike *some* people,” she pointedly includes to rile up the wizard.

“Of course. You’ve received the gift through your ancestor’s carnal relations with some dragon, while ‘some’ of us have *worked* for it,” Gale smiled, letting her know that he was joining her sarcasm in jest. “Nonetheless, there’s a very different feeling to using the Weave that comes with the years of study a wizard has. *That* is what I wanted to show you. I know you can call on the Weave as second nature, and you do a wonderful job with it, but I want you to experience the pleasure of embracing the environment, carefully going over the incantation and hand gestures, and using this to manipulate the Weave to bring your spell into reality.”

Tav felt her heart rate sky rocket with Gale’s praise for her sorcery. She wondered if the feeling he spoke of was really common to all wizards, or if he had a deeper connection as Mystra’s former lover … or victim, if you ask her. Still, she tried to focus on the positive.

“Ah, so you took me here to teach me slow careful pleasure,” Tav teased. “Get on with it then,” she encouraged with a wave of her hand.

Gale laughed in response, a deep sound that flooded Tav’s head with a light feeling, and took over her lips with a full grin.

“As you wish,” Gale bowed his head towards Tav, and proceeded with his magic lesson.

—

After an hour of teaching Tav how to connect with the Weave in this almost spiritual manner, Gale smiled at her once again. “I know you’re genuinely a natural at magic, but you did a wonderful job with this. It’s hard for someone to harness this connection without the education of a wizard.”

Tav smiles back at Gale and considers herself. “Or, maybe you’re just a good teacher.” As sure of herself as she was in magic, she was more sure of Gale’s ability to educate others. From his admirable desire to help others to his enthusiasm for knowledge … to the voice, face, and *hands* that made it impossible to zone out on him. He didn’t need to know that last part, though.

Gale chuckles at her praise, a light blush spreading across his face. “That too. How are you feeling now?” He asks, hoping his little magic lesson has been half as joyful for her as it has been for him. He felt relaxed, renewed, grounded, and more connected to her than he had ever felt. Although, that last part may be because he’s still standing so close to her, holding her hand as he needed to guide her through the more intricate parts of spell casting.

Tav allows herself to stare into Gale’s glimmering brown eyes, feeling a psychic connection between them where her thoughts could become his without the need to be verbalized.

After a lifetime of men being upset at her, accusing her of expecting them to read her mind, here is a man who can simply do so. Of *course* it’s Gale. Tav feels her eyes well up as she revels in the intense hope, adoration, and yearning she feels for him. Gazing into Gale’s eyes, their hands still intertwined, she imagines what it would be like to press onto her tiptoes and softly kiss him.

Gale’s eyes widen with shock as the thought dances into his mind. “I - I didn’t think -” he stutters, “I wasn’t … expecting that. Not that it’s unwelcome — it was a most pleasant thought,” Gale adds in hopes that Tav doesn’t take his surprise as disinterest, or even disgust. “It just took me by surprise,” he reiterates.

Tav takes a moment to compose herself before exhaling a shaky “okay.” Then, she whips her head around as she smells bergamot wafting in from the distance. Gale follows her gaze until they both see Astarion stumbling into the clearing … closely connected to Shadowheart.

“Well, looks like we’ve got company,” Gale tries (and fails) to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “We might want to get back to camp before we have to witness whatever is going to happen here.”

Tav slowly turns back to gale, smiling as she notices his stony stare at the oblivious couple. “As long as we’re not able to hear them from camp…”

“Oh gods, I don’t even want to think of that,” Gale grimaced. “Why don’t we head back, and if we hear anything, you could come sleep in my tent?” He quickly adds,” I have a silencing ward. I’d cast one on them before we leave, but I’m afraid my concentration won’t last once I fall asleep, and I know how fitful your rest is.”

Astonishment, anger, and amusement fight for dominance over Tav. She conveys a mix of them with her slack-jawed expression. “You had a *silencing ward* on your tent this whole time? And you didn’t *tell me*?” She kept her outrage playful, although she was disappointed that he hadn’t shared this with her earlier.

“I’m sorry,” gale said in earnest as he took her hand and started leading her back towards camp. They left a wide berth for Astarion and Shadowheart to continue ripping each other’s clothes off.

“I started working on a ranged ward for your tent after I earned of your insomnia, but I never quite got it to stick. I didn’t want you to think I was coming onto you by offering a place in my tent to get some good rest. I don’t expect anything, and I could even sleep outside of it if you’re more comfortable with that.” He felt a bit less forward with the offer now that he knew she thought of kissing him — at least in that moment. Still, he never wanted her to feel pressure.

She gazed up at Gale as they reached their camp. “Really?” she asked, unsure if someone could genuinely be so kind. Last time she had an offer like that …. well, they lied about expecting nothing.

Gale squeezed Tav’s hand in reassurance as he took in the concern in her voice. “Of course. I’m sure our adventure would benefit from a well-rested leader… do you want my tent alone, or …” he trailed off, his bashfulness returning.

“No!” tav exclaimed. “I’m not taking your tent from you! We can share it, if you’re okay with that?” She hurries along in an attempt to be thoughtful and nonchalant at the same time, “whatever you want. Sleeping on opposite sides, together … I’m fine with either. Well, by together I mean … you know what I mean,” she shook her head as she tried to explain herself.

Then she remembered their little joke and smirked, “no undue *excitement* is what I mean.”

Gale returned her smirk with a laugh, “Right, always looking out for me. It’s lady’s choice though, and i’m happy with either as well. But I will say, I know you run warm. I also know that I can use a frost enchantment to keep you cool so long as we’re touching.” This was his masterful attempt at sweetening the deal without pressuring her by saying how much he longed to hold her in his arms … and damn him if it wasn’t going to work.

“Gods, you’ve really been holding out on me, haven’t you?” Tav admonished. “I’ll just, get some of my stuff, and then I’ll join you. I’ll bring my blanket so I hopefully won’t steal yours, but I make no promises.”

He smiled as he met her serious gaze at the threat of stealing his blanket. “Two is always better. I’ll see you when you’re ready,” Gale said softly, watching her head back to her tent. He silently thanked her for wanting another blanket, giving him a moment alone to bask in the excitement of a night with her. And calm down this excitement before she returns so he doesn’t scare her off.

[the-golden-choi]

I netherese on his orb ‘til he blasts.

[raviolirash]

One of the more difficult aspects of having a loved one who has experienced abuse is how often they lash out at/hurt you broke and during the healing process, and vice versa where it's not something you intent to do but it happens, and although Astarion is seen as this imperfect victim, I can't actually remember a moment in his romance where he hurts the PC (& I get why they didn't do this bc they weren't going for full realism in a fantasy game). And obvs not counting the first encounter when you barely know eachother or A!A, but people would never be able to handle him if he ever did lash out at/do something that hurt the PC, so imho he is kind of way more palatable than he's expected to be.

Welcome to another fever-induced ramble:

Yeah I fully agree with this actually. I'll dig around later but the closest it comes to mind is him going full manipulative in act 3 with the "you want what's best for me, surely" behavior.

Which to a person with a functioning brain looks like this:

There were some things in Early Access and one of the lines I wish they would have left in is when you try to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder early in the game, he snaps back with something like "Leave me alone and go back to your own wet dreams". That was great. I didn't play Early Access so there were probably a few more I'm unaware of.

But not to repeat what you said but: I would have loved to see it go even deeper, but considering that the fandom has thrown a conniption over the smallest character flaws, I think people's brains would Netherese Orb Blast if faced with anything deeper than what we got in the final product. As it is now, people's cursors are constantly hovering over that damn button.

For example. Look at how Lae'zel's been treated by the community. Twitter and TikTok (incidentally platforms mostly used by very young people in fandom circles) HATE her. She's just a scared 20-something year old in a foreign country, her being a Githyanki is a very deep part of her identity, [insert a paragraph about how Githyanki view mind flayers and tadpoles here]. If your Tav isn't a Githyanki, she is completely isolated and alone. With idiots doing dumb shit. With a worm in her head. And a goth cleric - based on what you can deduct - did a Lara Croft with something that is a deep part of her identity.

If you say "oh, I would be a positive and uplifting UwU person in that situation! I would be nice to people! There is no need to be a bitch!" 🎵You're a fucking liar lol.🎶

Anyway. My own headcanon cope is that post act 2 confession, Astarion is making an actual effort and doesn't want to lose the only light he has in his life. He has definitely swallowed back some scathing remarks but he knows how easily he can fuck things up. Hell. His Yurgir confession scene is him confessing a massive fuckup, admitting his feelings, and essentially gambling if he's going to get his heart broken or not. He doesn't want to make another huge fuckup I think.

As a bonus, the private fic I'm writing isn't without him being a giant asshole (from two different chapters, before realizing feelings).

---

[voiceofthesilly]

Saying I'm gonna kill myself: old, predictable, vague, ever so slightly worrying

Saying "it's netherese orb blast time": fresh, exciting, implies I'm a powerful wizard and fucked the goddess of magic

[vespaer77]

Snippet Sunday

Thanks for the tag @waterdeep-weavemoss ! You got it! Tagging @mumms-the-word @alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice @alpydk @lanafofana @this-is-seer @dr-demi-bee @miradelletarot

Snippet from the next chapter of I'll Tell You in a Song which can be read here :

Shayla Moonsong hadn't run this hard in what felt like a very long time. Yet only two years ago, so much of her life was spent running.

Running after hags fleeing an honest fight, or chasing hyenas before they could summon packs of gnolls, or leaping to miss a Harper before he stepped into a ravenous, consuming darkness. Or escaping the blast radius of an exploding fireworks factory. Oh, especially that one. Even in her mind's eye, as her calves ached and her lungs burned, she could still see him way up there on the peak of that abandoned house across the street, feet planted and hips square, robes flapping and arms twirling, drawing arcane figures and composing magic the way she would the chorus of a song. Demonstrating the full mastery of his craft. The memory was as bright as the fire in his eyes, alight with an incendiary glow.

The human flame thrower.

Gale of Waterdeep.

And now she was running after him.

The instant she crashed through the front door of the theater she doubled over, gulping for air as her hands gripped her quivering knees. It was there that she met those eyes once more, for the first time in two years.

She expected to see something alien in them, some change in the man that had occurred in her absence. She was prepared to face the longevity of her departure from him, and the distance she'd always maintained from him. She was prepared to face the confusion, or even revulsion, that she certainly deserved to earn from him, given how she'd made the inauspicious choice to murder him on a stage, right before those very eyes. It was the least of what she deserved.

But she wasn't prepared to face the familiarity. She wasn't prepared at all for the swell of their shared story, and how it spilled from those eyes, so soft and dark and deep. Fathomless, like the siren call of an endless sea. How one could easily drown in them. How one could want to.

Those eyes locked with hers the instant she opened the front door. They were filled with the same wonder at the serendipity of having been rescued from a stone. The same stark solemnity he'd cast over them when he'd held her hand to his heart and told her the tale of the Netherese orb in his chest. The same reluctance to trust, outweighed by the need to admit he needed her help.

The same loneliness he'd hidden when he'd tried to convince her that the image of Mystra held privately in his hand was merely an incantation he was practicing.

The same resolute melancholy and grace, when he'd accepted the terrible fate that Elminster had bestowed upon him.

The same bravery and fear, when he'd believed that fate had come to pass so quickly, in the bowels of an illithid colony buried beneath Moonrise Towers.

But it was the betrayal that stole the air from her lungs, shining through those eyes from the basement of Sorcerous Sundries. Raw with desperate hurt that, after all their time together, through what little emotion was permitted to pass beyond the veil of an unstable orb, through what few needs and wishes he didn't have to obfuscate, she could still understand so little of his perspective. That the Crown of Karsus was his only gambit toward survival. How she made it unequivocally known that his pursuit of it would still have such a steep cost.

And it would cost him everything.

What little he had left.

[coolerhope]

Thinking about the dagger Gale uses to "trigger" the netherese orb surviving the blast and becoming a legendary weapon.

A very powerful and useful weapon but for some reason it cannot harm certain individuals.

[mynamewasveth]

fcg is really gonna gale netherese orb blast himself isn’t he

[bolyde]

"hells, you're beautiful." @ gale!

When was the last time Gale had gotten a compliment like that? Not his skills, or what he provided... something about him?

Mystra had once said that he was too understanding. It hadn't been a compliment, though she had tucked his hair (or a facsimile of the action) behind his ear as she'd said it.

He brought himself back to the present, straddled in @mindhallow's lap with a little breathless laugh. There were hands on his hips holding him in place and he'd managed his own shirt off, and he was embarrassingly hard from some simple grinding and making out. One of Gale's hand was gripping Wish's shirt, previously with the intent to get him bare-chested as well, but instead pulled the other man back into a hard kiss. Saying he was out of practice was being far too kind to the Wizard's skills, and the kiss was mostly teeth and a groan of arousal from Gale.

'you're beautiful' echoed once more in his mind and as he pulled away the blasted Netherese Orb glowed a warning making him breathless and ache. Even with the Orb stabilized it seemed he still would have to take things slowly if he wanted to or not. An impatient noise left the Wizard, eyes shut in discomfort as he rose a hand to his own chest and forced himself to take a few deep breathes, an embarrassed laugh bubbling past his lips as slowly the glow lessened, though did not fully disapate.

"I'm okay... honestly it's a bit impressive if this is is what makes it light up. Very telling about how much you get my heartrate up," a brief pause and Gale shook his head a little, "Bad to joke about, terrible maybe." He admitted, hand leaving his chest to cup Wish's face, thumb dragging carefully against the cheekbone beneath the ersatz eye.

"Slower then, yes?" he wondered, licking his lips before his hands dipped to get Wish out of his shirt finally, stalling only to wait for permission.

[forestdwellingrat]

kill them with kindness? wrong. Netherese orb blast

[cookiesinthecloud]

the netherese orb blast cantrip just being Gale summoning a knife to stab himself is so funny, it’s like a mage summoning a gun to shoot you

[masctoast]

Ever since I’ve unlocked netherese orb blast, everytime a fight is not going well I’m just like this close to having gale kill everyone and himself

[sussurbloom]

the fact that gale's netherese orb blast is a cantrip is so fucking funny to me. you might be releasing a nuclear blast onto everyone you care about but hey. don't cry. no spell slot cost