#shadovar

[boredguitarfish]

Imagine simping on the Shadovar magic… but gosh with the way act 2 of Baldur’s Gate presenting the influence of the shadow weave just keeps me imagining the glory that could have been the city of shades, as grim as what it might be. Sometimes I just can’t stop myself from hating on Elminster for destroying Thultanthar, the last flying enclave of Netherease, returned after thousands years of banishment…so much could have been learned….

[princefleabitten]

I think it was part of a strategy to get Drizzt to talk. Quick wanted to see if Drizzt is the Chosen of Lolth so they talked a lot about religion. Since Drizzt doesn’t think/ want to be anyone’s chosen (and doesn’t really believe in the existence of gods that way) it wasn’t really fruitful. Quick wanted to collect chosen to gain more inside of the gods and The sundering.

(I think it was just the introduction for the later plots)

Very random Drizzt question. You have read The Last Threshold (I adore those comics you draw for the books, btw). The wikipedia plot synopsis (forgive me, I am FAR behind and have a short attention span, I need to cheat to get the lore) describes Drizzt's time in Quick's manor as a "guest/prisoner." I am curious how accurate that is. Was he a "guest" in the same way Johnathan Harker was Dracula's guest? Did he actually have a semi-nice time aside from having to see his friends' petrified bodies every day? Was he like, free-range during the day and then ushered into a cage at nighttime?

Drizzt time in Quicks mansion was wild (I swear like genre change wild. But I liked it, it was interesting, I was just like woah what’s happening���)

Effron and Drizzt were separated from the group during a fight in the mansion. At first he was held for a while in a small magical prison together with effron (they bonded there and talked about her life stories) They didn’t get food and they didn’t have guards or something so they didn’t know what would happen. Then Drizzt was kept in a dungeon chained to a wall for months. Here he was fed spoiled food and Quick beat him. He could hear them torturing Effron from the other room. Then after months Quick bid Drizzt to a private quarter where he can live from now on with is warm and comfortable and has good food.

The deal here was that Drizzt didn’t know that Entreri, Dahlia and Afa were petrified but he knew that Effron was tortured if he didn’t obey. That’s why he couldn’t do anything. In this time Drizzt pondered about that he now kinda likes Quick and described his Stockholm syndrome in his diary text. So the range was from the most terrible time to an ok-ish time.

I think it was kinda reversed Johnathan Harker when I think about it 😂 the creepy I’m kept in a strangers house part is at the end of his stay

(Thank you for liking my sketches btw💕)

[coreene]

Places in Faerun: Darkhold

I don't suppose you've heard of Darkhold. It's been many years since folk whispered the name of the place in fear. After all, the Zhentarim, the organization that gave Darkhold its evil reputation, are by all accounts no longer the cadre of thieves, assassins, and evil wizards they once were. And strangely enough, according to my source among the Zhentarim, that change in character can be traced right back to Darkhold. As it was told to me, it came about like this…

Zhentil Keep was burning. The Citadel of the Ravens lay in ruins. The leadership of the Zhentarim died, were captured by the Shadovar of returned Netheril, or were in flight. The vaunted Black Network was shredded. Cells of Zhentarim agents were cut loose, and without connections or direction, they dissolved or were crushed by rivals. The Zhentarim was no more.

Or so it seemed. There was one stronghold of the Zhents that had not fallen and whose leader never wavered in his dedication to the organization. Darkhold stands deep in the mountains of the Western Heartlands, and there the remnants of the Zhentarim quietly gathered. There they swore allegiance anew to the leader who promised to reforge the organization into something stronger than before.

The man to whom this new Zhentarim owed fealty was a dark knight known only as the Pereghost. The Pereghost had long led the armed forces of the Zhentarim at Darkhold, and his vision for the revival of the organization was along military lines. After a time of recruitment and training, the Zhentarim emerged from Darkhold not as conquerors or as bullying capitalists but as mercenaries willing to serve others instead of forcing them to serve.

In the years that followed, the transformation served the Zhentarim well. They earned a reputation for sterling service, and their ranks swelled. Those who knew of Darkhold thought of it as the headquarters of this new version of the Zhentarim.

Membership in the Zhentarim is difficult to assess, but my source told me they might have greater numbers now than before their organization's fall. New leadership for this larger group has led to a shift in focus. While still a source of capable mercenaries, the Zhentarim have diversified into mercantile pursuits. Zhent guards now ride alongside caravans of their own. And whereas a military organization served it well in the chaotic period after its fall, my source frequently described the Zhentarim as a "family" and leaders as "my good friend."

My source also spoke in awed tones of the Pereghost, as though that figure were still alive and a leader of Darkhold. The Pereghost is never seen without his full armour and a face-covering helm. If it isn't an elf behind the mask, then I suspect a series of humans might have masqueraded as the Pereghost during the past century.

Darkhold Vale

I was curious about my source's tale, and so when I had cause to be in the region, I made my way toward Darkhold. An enormous mountain peak called the Gray Watcher of the Morning looms behind Darkhold to the east, casting a great shadow over the keep from sunrise until nearly midday. Darkhold sits in a cleft in the side of the Gray Watcher, the highest point of permanent occupation in a relatively fiat and defensible valley called Darkhold Vale.

Darkhold Vale contains a small settlement of the same name, consisting mostly of shepherds who tend their flocks in the high meadows of the Sunset Mountains, and a few farmers who coax fine crops from the soils that cling to the vale's fields. The settlement's main source of prosperity is the black stone quarry at the south-eastern edge of the vale; the heavy carts groaning with slabs of stone for sale and the large, muscled workhorses that pull them are common sights here. The common folk of Darkhold Vale tend to be surly and suspicious of outsiders, though they are careful to avoid offense.

This settlement of about a hundred or so is utterly under the dominion of Darkhold and has seen some benefit from the situation: the vale folk see a great deal more traffic and trade than the little hamlet would ever expect otherwise. Until recently, all the caravans bound for Darkhold could seek sanctuary only in the shadow of the keep itself. Now the people of the vale have recently built both an inn, called the Wyvern's Rest, and a separate tavern, called the Rookery.

Some of the locals send to market bales of the thick, rich wool they shear from their sheep. Others make a living hawking the dandelion wine that Darkhold Vale has always produced, but only recently begun to sell abroad. The vale has a small militia, technically under the command of the Pereghost, but which answers to a local captain named Sulvarn.

To those who've come into conflict with the Zhentarim, living in a place so firmly in their power seems unthinkable, but the reality is that life is sedate here. Certainly, the soldiers in the castle aren't to be trifled with, but they hardly ever engage in the acts of petty cruelty that one expects from warriors serving a local lord. Those who misunderstand the Zhentarim often do so because they imagine them to be cackling villains in the vein of the Zhents of yore. In reality, they are pragmatic, willing to do whatever necessary to achieve their ends. But they have no need to terrorize the folk of Darkhold Vale, for one simple reason: they already control them.

In years past, these folk lived in fear and suspicion, with a hearty helping of racial prejudice; my first visit to Darkhold nearly a century ago was occasion for me to hear some of the vilest epithets attached to my kind that I've ever heard-even worse than those that fall from the foul lips of ore raiders in the North. The attitudes of the vale folk have changed over the years, however, no doubt due in part to the orders of the Pereghost when he reengaged the Zhentarim with the wider world.

Darkhold Castle

When l first beheld the great black walls of Darkhold, I thought all the legends about it must be true. On my second visit, I thought I'd try to confirm my suspicions.

According to legend, Darkhold's story began more then a millennium ago, when it was known as the Keep of the Far Hills. It was built as a summer capitol for the so-called "giant empires." Situated in the Far Hills, the castle was in a position to dominate trade routes north out of the Iriaebor Valley. It could also dominate river trade down the Yellow Snake Gorge.

The role of the so-called Giant Emperors is still a matter of conjecture and discussion today. However, there are some, scattered among the giant tribes of the North, who claim to be heirs to the ancient thrones. Whatever the truth of the empires might be, the castle itself was definitely built for giants. Its size and construction support no other explanation.

Legend has it that Darkhold was lost to the giants due to internal strife-a pair of brothers quarrelling over their inheritance. Through poison, magic, and mercenaries, the brothers thinned the castle's population until only the brothers themselves were left. The two fought and mortally wounded each other, and each dragged himself off to die alone. The brothers' spirits are still said to stalk the castle, each still seeking his brother's destruction.

The keep was then occupied by a succession of owners, including a dragon of some repute, but it was not until a lich claimed it that the castle came to be known as Darkhold. The lich was called Varalla, and supposedly she conjured all manner of evil creatures to serve her, sending them out to dominate the lands beyond and establish an empire of evil. Varalla ruled Darkhold until the infamous leaders of the old Zhentarim- Manshoon and Fzoul- heard tales of her wealth in magic and gold. Lured by the promise of such rich rewards, the pair defeated her and claimed the castle for themselves.

Upon my arrival at the great gates to the fortress, I found that I was expected, as I must have been watched since entering Darkhold Vale-perhaps even before then. After a short wait, I was met by a seneschal, a forthright woman with a strong handshake, who warmly referred to the person who secretly supplied me with the history of the Zhentarim. I found myself taken aback by this because I had thought my source and I had spoken in confidence. As you no doubt have noticed, I've avoided mentioning the name, gender, or physical description of my source, for I swore an oath of secrecy. Besides my initial shock, my exchange with the seneschal was pleasant, and I was given a tour of some of the mighty castle.

When I asked about the legends of Darkhold's creation and occupation, she told much the same story as I have told, adding a few characters from its history that I hadn't heard of before. When asked about castle hauntings, the seneschal only smiled in reply. Although it seemed a genuine smile, I could wring no truth from it.

Of the castle's defences, I can say little. My tour was limited. But I did note that, while some things on the giants' scale have been modified to suit humans (such as stairs and most doors), other things remain titanic. For instance, I have no idea how they managed to open the gates for my entrance without the use of magic.

Denizens of Darkhold

I didn't see the Pereghost during my visit, so I can't confirm anything about the man. But the seneschal and everyone else with whom I conversed spoke of the Pereghost in awed tones. Whatever the truth of this saviour of the Zhentarim, he is apparently too busy to entertain curious visitors. While at Darkhold, I heard the name of another leader of some importance, Manxam, but my queries about this figure were redirected to other topics, and I didn't feel comfortable pressing the seneschal on the matter.

Of the rest of Darkhold I can relate only a little more. The Zhentarim maintain two war units within Darkhold: the Storm Watch, a cadre of veteran Zhentarim soldiers who act as heavy infantry, and the Gray Feathers, archers primarily responsible for the defence of the fortress.

These aren't the only forces Darkhold can bring to bear, however. The years when a contingent of giants lived in Darkhold are long gone, but in their place is an aerie of wyverns, bred and trained to defend Darkhold and to obey the Pereghost. Their trainer is a ranger named Grigarr, whose body is pocked with myriad scars from wyvern stings. The man is a greedy wretch who claims he is now immune to the wyverns' venom, after having been stung so many times. He loves telling stories in the Rookery about how he got his many stings, and thinks himself an entertaining storyteller because people listen and applaud. The truth is that the locals are terrified of him, so they humour him while he is in his cups.

source: Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide pg. 77-79

[eliteseven]

Did Serena ever tell Shadowheart that she'd fought Sharrans before? I could see her not wanting to bring it up to avoid causing intra-party drama but I could also see it slipping out because she's a bad liar so Shadowheart might catch on that her opinions of Shar are based on personal experience. Also what were her experiences going up against the Netherese? Ooooh, is this actually why she cut Shadowheart so much slack? She knew instantly that this girl was NOT at all a normal Sharran? Aaaaaaaagh I have so many questions now lol.

Well, I admittedly only learned about the Sharrans and Thultanthar later, when I was trying to expand the depth of Serena’s backstory. Apparently, the Harpers and Cormyr took issue with Shadovar presence for some time! So I think it would be fair to assume that killing Netherese/Sharrans was Serena’s bread and butter, while serving in Cormyr’s military.

Let me begin with a disclaimer that I am humbly still learning!! So if I get something wrong, please do let me know and I’ll try to adjust Serena’s life accordingly! 😊

In my eyes, it solidifies Serena’s outlook on Shar and better explains why she resents it so. She’s lost friends and comrades to Shar’s evil long before she ever met Shadowheart.

Serena wasn’t ever really meant to survive. Joining the military was her only choice; her mother’s house no longer had any influence or power. (Her mother was NOT keen on sending her baby girl to war!)

And Cormyr was recruiting just about anyone to help, swamped as they were on two fronts, right? So it backs my idea that she was meant to be cannon-fodder. It would take her years of survival to reach the rank of a purple dragon knight. But she had time. And Althaea, to keep her from dying 🥹

I read that war wizards were a massive force (in strength, not numbers) in Cormyr’s military and worked closely with the purple dragons. So closely, that officers and knights were often given rings that could summon the war wizards at any given time to face any magical threats (assuming there are plenty of those, when Netheril strikes). So it could be a fair assumption to say Serena was paired with a war wizard, and while she provided physical protection, they were the magical forces. It gives Serena experience in battle leadership, and a deeper understanding of mages, and a healthy respect for magic.

I think, by the time she meets Shadowheart, she’s seen her fair share of Sharrans. Killed so many, watched her allies get killed by them in turn…. And here is Shadowheart. The worst Sharran ever™️ Serena is determined to dislike her, but she’s sweet to animals, she heals wounds, she’s got a cute laugh- rare as it is-, she’s fucking gorgeous and Serena doesn’t know what to make of her. She is the worst Sharran ever, and Tav can’t stop thinking about her. Poor girl is in love.

Shadowheart often mocks Serena’s chivalry and sense of nobility early on in their relationship. It’s much richer when we look at it through the lens of Shadowheart realizing the woman before her is a purple dragon knight, decorated for her efficient and effective eradication of Sharran presence in Cormyr.

It would also make visiting that Sharran temple traumatizing for Serena, I think. So many reminders of war….of bloodshed….

The first time she writes Althaea about being fond of a Sharran, Althaea probably spits whatever she’s drinking onto the letter in shock 💀

[maestrojax]

My personal favorite jarlaxle moment.

Jarlaxle was already grinning, seeing the door sentries edging over to the curious pit, unable to resist the urge to peek in. The mercenary tossed the cube toward the door where Draygo Quick had exited, and turned back to the guards on the balcony.

“ ‘With abacus, by architect, by carpenter, and mason,’ ” he recited, sweeping his arm out with dramatic flourish, and at the same time tapping his House insignia to enact a spell of levitation and lift himself conveniently and prudently from the castle floor, he reiterated and elaborated his song:

With all the tools and knowledge of structural design,For shelter most beloved, for love of hearth and home To build your private castle, to whom would you consign?”

Act now, you peacock! Kimmuriel screamed in his thoughts, which only made Jarlaxle smile all the wider.

“Might I suggest that all the tools the mundane numbers and physical rules tor the truly brilliant must remain no more than province of common fools.”

“A castle, and warmth, a true abode, For when one truly seeks a home, The wise call upon the greater souls Who wile their days with a nose in a tome.”

"What foolishness is this?” the guard on the stairs demanded.

“Foolishness?” Jarlaxle echoed as if wounded. “My friend, this is no such thing.” A yelp from behind him told Jarlaxle that the door guards had reached the edge of his pit and had glanced in.

“Nay, this … this is Caer Gromph!”

Caer Gromph, the last two words of the incantation, rang with a different resonance than the playful mercenary’s chanting verse, for they spoke not to the audience, but to the magical cube Jarlaxle had tossed. Upon absorbing those command words, spoken in that manner, the magic of the cube awakened. The ground beneath their feet began to tremble, though of course the floating Jarlaxle remained unperturbed above it, and Castle Draygo began to shake as Caer Gromph’s roots reached into the floor, as the cube transformed into an adamantine tower, designed to resemble the stalagmite towers of the drow Houses of Menzoberranzan.

Up it rose, and widened, crushing and splintering the floor and substructure of Castle Draygo with its roots, blowing out the wall and prodding up under the balcony as its unyielding walls stretched, its adamantine tip piercing the ceiling of the grand room nearly thirty feet above the floor. The Shadovar guards lurched and tumbled under the thunder of the magical creation. One of the pair peeked over the lip of the portable hole and tumbled in, and the other soon followed as a yochlol-like tentacle reached up and aided him in his descent, accompanied by a shriek from the guard and a hearty “bwahaha” from the supposed handmaiden.

A thing of beauty was Caer Gromph. Lined with balconies and a circular stair running its length, top-to-bottom, and edged in faerie fire accents of purple, red, and blue, it seemed as much a work of abstract art as a fortress. But a fortress it was, complete with lines of arrow slits and a magical gate inside, and the moment the construct expanded, Bregan D’aerthe archers poured through the magical portal inside and to their protected posts. Before the many Shadovar had even pinpointed the source of the earthquake, crossbow quarrels flew forth from those arrow slits, coated with that insidious drow poison.

Imagine you are just in your castle with a kidnapped drizzt and artemis and suddenly jarlaxle summons a fucking tower in the middle of it full of bregan d'aerthe soldiers.

[criticalglitch]

He Who Was spoilers below!! (act 2)

So I am old hat. I didnt know 4th and 5th edition meta, coming from AD&D. When I ran into this Weird Elf *tm i had to do a few wiki walks to figure out what his deal was - his race was listed as "Shadar-Kai" in the examine portal and that sounded Suspiciously like "Shadovar" to me, and his placement near the shadowcursed lands led me to believe he must have had something to do with the shadowfell, similarly to the shadow-torn netherese.

So i read about the Raven Queen and her immortal elf servants, the Shadar-Kai, and I came to some interesting conclusions.

He leaves behind a piece of correspondence from a supposed Weird Elf Coworker, that begs him to return, implying he deserted from some service. Due to his perverse interest in Madeline's justice after death, it seems like this elf may have absconded from the Raven Queen's indenture and went rogue. Perhaps thats why he is He Who Was - his soul is lost to him, trapped in the raven queen's clutches, so he is no more.

Still, to do a job abandonment to a minor deity -

To go be a necromancer pervert??? which is some hot girl shit honestly.

9.5/10.

[defira85]

1 and 9 for the durgetash asks >:3c

Ask meme here! Ty lovely!

Who realised first that this strictly business relationship stopped being so strict and solely about business?

It was Enver. Kass was so deeply in denial about everything, because she needed to be the perfect daughter and she needed to be the most clever Bhaalspawn that ever was and she needed to be the one responsible for saving and resurrecting her father so that she would be loved by him and feel right about herself for once, that she essentially just stuck her fingers in her ears and hummed to ignore her feelings until it was too late. Sex was fine, but feelings? Feelings distract from father's glorious plan, can't have that. Friendship? Disgusting, illegal. Love? Never say that word again, ever.

(and then Daddy Dearest came back and she was far too terrified to say it)

9. The Steelwatch Foundry. Did they ever visit it together, what was it like? How many people died afterwards and how many of them were Banites?

I was going to say that by the time the Steelwatch Foundry got built, Kass was a lot more subdued and beaten down by years of fighting Bhaal, so there wasn't as much bloodshed, but... he also took control of her a lot more frequently, so there was probably at least a teensy bit of bloodshed. There was also that time in Flymm's Cargo when Enver was hosting a contingent of Shadovar agents and he let the Slayer run rampant. Lost a fair few Banites that night.

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities (Part 27)

I cried writing the end of this chapter.

Summary: “You thought you could just take my place, while I was gone, dear sister?” Thomas descended the steps of the Bhaal temple, the footprints of blood left in his wake. The worshipper at the door had doubted who he was until they found the dagger stuck between their eyes. Orin would be no different.

Ao3 Link

Nana felt her body transform as she walked the back alleys of Baldur’s Gate, her red hair growing short, her soft jaw becoming sharp, and her green eyes turning grey and cold. Thomas, where are we going? The day was slowly turning to night and the inhabitants of the city had taken to the streets, revelling in the nighttime entertainment. She felt the weight of the metal cover being lifted and pushed aside by the soldier's arms she had not used in years, the stench of the sewers hitting her nostrils. Thomas, please, talk to me.

We’re going to reclaim my birthright.

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

Astarion had seen Nana leave camp earlier in the day before he lectured Karlach on letting her go. Now he had somehow found himself in the reluctant position of leading everyone as they walked into the city at speed hoping not to lose track of her. 

Karlach followed quickly behind him. “I know you said she was stabby, but you really think she’d hurt someone?”

“She wouldn’t, but Thomas is a psychopath. It’s him I worry about.” He looked around trying to spot any sign of Nana. “There’s a very good chance that he gets to Orin and Gale and just outright kills them both for the fun of it.”

“So, we’re looking for two people now who can change themselves into anyone they want?” Her shoulders dropped in defeat.

Shadowheart was fast to step in. “Nana has only really ever used the one form with us, the human one, then there is her changeling form which I doubt she will use in public. Do we know of any others?”

The group looked amongst themselves. 

“You said she’d been you too, didn’t you?” Wyll pointed out to Astarion.

Astarion was trying to listen to them, but something kept catching his attention, a feeling like he was being watched. He turned slowly, quickly glancing at the open doorways of the taverns and streets around them. Dark red eyes beckoned him from an alley. Leon. 

“Astarion? Are you even-”

Astarion walked away from the group towards the vampire spawn who stood under the shadowed archway. “I don’t have time for you.”

“I know, but you’re looking for your friend, yes? The one who hurt Cazador?” Leon said, his voice quiet.

“What did you say?”

“The changeling. I saw her the other day turn into you. I met her in the palace before Cazador…” He still couldn’t believe the idea that their master was dead. “I knew it couldn’t be you.” 

Astarion’s lip curled at Leon’s doubt before he refocused on what mattered. “Where is she?”

“She’s in the sewers towards the north. The ruins,” he replied.

“And you saw her? You know it’s her for sure?” Astarion was desperate now, they couldn’t waste time investigating the area without anything concrete.

“She wasn’t her, but the man I saw, he had the same eyes. The ones I saw after you… after she stabbed Cazador…”

“Hey, mate. You found something?” Karlach’s voice came out behind him. He’d have to put some trust in Leon’s words.

“She’s in the sewers.”

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

1486

Shadovar. Your arcane arts are nothing with an axe embedded into your skull. I savour the way your scalp is slick with blood, and it runs down mixing with the black markings under your lifeless eyes. I am blessed with this gift, and I will savour each blissful moment of butchery where I can. 

Blade, First Sword, Lionar. I’ve worked my way up, the moments of glory just another step to power. Each death is as satisfying as the last. Seeing the battlefields run red with the blood of these worthless beings. Ally or enemy. It doesn't matter who falls, the moment the light leaves their eyes gives me the same pleasure. To hear their screams as the sword plunges into their gut, the copper taste of the blood, the rattle of their lungs as their offered soul is taken by you. 

All in your name.

Bhaal.

Present Day

“You thought you could just take my place, while I was gone, dear sister?” Thomas descended the steps of the Bhaal temple, the footprints of blood left in his wake. The worshipper at the door had doubted who he was until they found the dagger stuck between their eyes. Orin would be no different.

She knelt on the stone altar, Gale whispering weak ramblings beneath her. She ran the blade lightly across his face, small beads of blood appearing on the skin. Nana shouted from within, she needed control, needed to get him out of here. Thomas shunned her aside with ease. She was merely a passenger now and it would not be long before he would be in full control as he used to be.

Orin looked up as he approached. “Is that you? The white knight himself.”

He scowled at the pet name, one he had heard too many times from Nana. Those days were gone.

“I expected you’d come as the dancer, or was it the baker? Or even under the guise of your little mistress.” she continued, her voice rising. “But no, it seems she has let you off your leash for once, just as I’m about to do what you never could.” 

He grew closer to the altar, his voice calm and steady. He was watching her movements, calculating the quickest methods to debilitate her, the most enjoyable ways to bleed her out. “Step down from there and I’ll show you exactly what I can do.”

Orin stood taking delicate steps over Gale’s body. Nana could see the way he turned his head slightly as Orin moved, a semi-conscious daze keeping him from fighting back. Gale… Don’t die, please don’t die. Orin lightly hopped from the altar and began to circle Thomas. Her form changed to his, the soldier with the grey eyes. “To believe you thought you could come here and kill me. Do you not realise it is your destiny to die here? For these walls to be stained with your blood.” She stepped closer to him, and his fingers hovered over the hilt of his knife. Her body was now the same as his, but she lacked the intimidation he carried; she lacked the same cold dead eyes of decades of unbridled slaughter.

She grew closer and his eyes narrowed, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

“You come here in the skin of that creature. A weak copy. Just a host, a parasite” She giggled at him, morphing back to her natural form. “Just like the little worm that devours her from within. Rotten to the core.” She cackled, her head lifting ever so slightly.

Thomas took the opportunity to thrust the blade forward, her neck bare and her arrogance making her an easy target. She was quick to react though, stepping back and whipping out her daggers. “The white knight bares his fangs,” she said, a vicious grin emerging. “Let's see if your mistress will let you bite.” 

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

Astarion descended the steps at speed as he saw the two fighting. He used their diverted attention as a chance to get close to Gale, for once glad of the hefty supply of lockpicks he’d found on their adventure. He got through the lock with ease pulling the chains from Gale’s wrists and gave him a quick slap on the cheek trying to bring him around. “Hey, this is no time to sleep.”

Gale slowly came to his senses and Astarion saw the way his eyes focussed on him, the brief look of confusion and then acknowledgement that he was still alive. “Astarion?”

Astarion placed an arm under him to lift him. “Yeah, come on. Time to get moving.”

The sounds of the daggers clashing echoed around them as he hauled Gale’s weakened body next to him and began to pull him towards the steps. Karlach ran over grabbing Gale and taking the brunt of his weight in her arms. I hope you’re in there somewhere, Nana. 

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

They’re here. He’s safe. Get him out of here. Please don’t let him die here. Nana’s body moved quickly and with deadly precision. Fighting for control now would prove lethal to her and yet she found herself drawing Thomas’s attention away to Gale. Idiot creature, you’ll get us both killed!

The dagger blade sliced his arm, but Thomas did not react, thrusting forward with an attack to Orin’s midsection. Another attack to his neck missed by a small margin causing him to take a step back to reevaluate the situation. He could feel the sweat on his brow and the adrenaline coursing through his veins as each movement was taken. There. His eyes focussed on the minute overextension of Orin’s leg as she leapt forward towards him, her dagger poised at the ready.

Thomas let Orin get close to him, her body twisting under his arm. He took the opportunity to exploit her weakness. She came in closer than she estimated, his blade piercing the flesh under her breast. A turn of the blade as she fell into him. He looked down into her eyes, watching the light fade, a twisted smirk growing on his face at the knowledge of his victory. Your blood for him, dear sister.

And then a cough. His blood, Nana’s blood choked and spat through his clenched jaw. He pushed the body of Orin away and looked down. Her own dagger deeply planted in his side. He stumbled back, tearing it out. “That fucking…” He could feel his strength fading quickly as he fell forward, his mind wavering. He could see the kills in front of him, the young boy, the girl with dough under the nails, the woman with the red curls, each of them pulling at his soul, his blood dripping to the floor of the temple. Nothing but another offering to Bhaal.

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

Gale saw Nana transform and fall to the ground, forcing himself on unsteady legs to run towards her grabbing her into his arms. He looked down at her clothes, seeing that the fabric had turned a deep scarlet and yelled to Shadowheart for assistance. “She needs potions, healing. Do something!” He couldn’t control the panic in his voice as he heard Nana’s breaths become slower and more strained. He put pressure on the wound, but it made little difference, his hands growing slick with the flow of her blood. 

Shadowheart whispered the spells, a quiet glow appearing over Nana’s body before fading out again into the darkness. “It’s not working.” She stared at Gale, a look of worry in her eyes. 

“A potion then! Try a bloody potion!” he shouted as he held Nana close. “Come on, stay with us,” he whispered to her, hoping that words alone would give her strength.

Karlach rooted through her pack trying to find her flasks, quickly glancing to the others as she realised, she had none. Wyll shook his head at her, confirming there was nothing any of them could do. Astarion stood frozen, watching the scene, hearing Nana’s heartbeat grow quieter in his ears.

Nana grew weaker and her eyes began to unfocus. Gale grabbed her hand, squeezing it, hoping that there was something, anything, he could do to keep her with them. He went over so many solutions in his mind, spells, potions, Mystra but nothing was sticking. “Nana, my love. We’re going to get you to a safer location. We’re going to…” She turned away from him as if watching something else in the distance. “No, no. You need to focus on me, you need to stay with me.” He turned her face towards him, the blood of his fingertips printing on her cheek. “Nana don’t die. Please, don’t die.”

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

Nana found herself in control, her changeling body lying in the arms of Gale next to the Bhaal altar. She struggled to keep her gaze on him, trying to look into the brown eyes she had dreamt about so many times before. Why is he so sad? His lips moved but she could not hear the words he uttered to her. Inside she felt a deep sense of peace, her mind truly her own for the first time in five years and as she looked away from Gale, she saw the figure of Thomas in the distance, the Thomas she had known and loved in the swamp waiting for her, his hand held out inviting her to join him. 

There was no fear, no sadness as she lay dying in Gale’s arms. All that existed was confusion over how this was her end. But I was going to go to Waterdeep…

[lunoceros]

DnD commission Darya, the water genasi  Basil, the donkey Haiallar, the aarakocra bard Step-Step, the kenku Omrir, the shadovar

[adndmonsteraday]

Asabis, also known as laerti, were reptilian humanoids that dwelt in the desert.

Asabi was the Bedine word for this creature and meant "eater-of-parents." The Bedine also called them "The Evil Ones Below." In the Common tongue, they were called "laerti," which had its origins in Netheril, "Laerti" was the term they called themselves.

Asabis stood about 7 ft (2.1 m) tall on two legs. They had long tails. Their skin was thick and their scales were gray to brown color, and they had light green or dun undersides. They had narrow, sloping skulls. Their eyes were very large, egg-shaped, and yellow, and they had forked tongues. Their limbs projected out at sharp angles, making their movements awkward to typical humanoid observers; however, they could move as easily on four limbs as two, balancing with their long tails.

It was very difficult to tell a male and female asabi apart.

Asabis liked to hide themselves in the sand and jump out at their targets. They were quite skilled at jumping, and could jump 15​ to ​20 feet (4.6​ to ​6.1 meters). Typical asabi fighters carried scimitars and light crossbows. They never wore armor heavier than leather.

Free asabis dwelt in nomadic tribes and often allied themselves with evil creatures, sometimes adopting nonasabi into their tribes. They often served as mercenaries or slaves. They were nocturnal creatures, and as such were typically only ever encountered at night. Their body temperatures were not suited to the hot sun. If they stayed on the surface during the day, they had to bury themselves into the sand or hide in the rock crevices.

Free asabi tribes were ruled by either a war leader or a council of elders.

There were two different subraces of asabi: standard asabi and stingtail asabi, a larger and less intelligent variety. The two subraces were capable of interbreeding and stingtails always tagged along with asabi tribes.

Asabis only ate the soft tissue of their prey, leaving the rest to dry under the sun. They were omnivorous and also consumed fungi that grew in the desert caves they inhabited. A delicacy among the asabis were the taproots of oasis plants.

Asabis were found in deserts, particularly in the Anauroch. They made up seventeen percent of the population of Anauroch in 1372 DR. They were particularly common in the caverns in Azirrhat. Asabis could also be found in the desert areas of Durpar, Estagund, and Var the Golden.

Asabis were created by the sarrukh and served them in Isstosseffifil in Oreme.

Many asabis served the phaerimm as slaves beneath the Anauroch.

In the Year of the Turret, 1360 DR, asabi mercenaries allied with the Zhentarim, during their failed attempt to dominate trans-Anauroch trade. The combined Asabi and Zhentilar armies were thwarted by the Harper Lander, the sorceress Ruha, and the united Bedine tribes. That same year, nearly one thousand sleeping asabi were slaughtered by the Bedine tribes, in an assault known as the Battle of the Fissures.

With the return of Thultanthar in the Year of Wild Magic, 1372 DR, the enslaved asabi were freed when the shadovar destroyed their phaerimm masters. Many of these asabi turned to illithids and beholders as new masters.

Source: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Asabi

[fellsilver]

LOSS OF LEFT ARM & PROSTHETICS.

It has been canon for many years that Mys.tra's Chosen can recreate lost limbs. However . . . You can pry amputee Laeral from my cold, dead hands. This post intends to explain the circumstances leading to the amputation, the long-term effects of said amputation, and give an overview of prosthetics. Necessary disclaimer, however, that I am not an amputee or a medical professional. I'll always endeavor to do my research and not dive into what I've no business diving into, but mistakes are always possible.

BATTLE OUTSIDE EVERESKA.

Laeral fought on the frontlines during the Return of the Archwizards. It was she who led the Army of the North to Evereska besieged. Unfortunately, they were betrayed by the Shadovar, and the phaerimm infiltrated their camp, turning the minds of the soldiers. Although Laeral was unaffected, she found her troops were suddenly fighting themselves. Burlen, a Vasaan escorting Khelben, was among those turned. It was he who raised his darksword against Laeral, amputating her left arm below the elbow as she tried to defend herself. She managed to escape the battle with the help of Kuhl. Alas, her time under the Crown of Horns affected her ability to heal; although it is still leagues above a normal person, it is altered from the miraculous healing other Chosen exhibit. Between this and the effects of the darksword, her arm was permanently lost.

LONG-TERM EFFECTS.

The severing of Laeral's arm was, at least, a clean cut thanks both to Burlen's skill and the nature of the darksword. However, she nearly passed out due to the pain, loss of blood, and general shock of losing a limb; she could not even stand in the aftermath. The darksword itself presented an additional complication in that it had struck her with searing cold, afflicting her left elbow with superficial frostbite. Her silver fire sustained her life, as did Khelben's aid once they reunited, but a ride to a secure location to regroup with survivors from a battle hardly provided an ideal environment to heal. Unfortunately, infection set in as well. Although being one of the Seven and Mys.tra's Chosen prevented it from claiming her, she still had to endure the silver fire fighting it off.

The loss of her arm took Laeral out of the fight for about a month. It was an injury that might have claimed anyone else's life. Miraculous healing preserved her, but it was not instantaneous. Furthermore, she had little time to adjust to having only one arm. Having to learn to cast spells and generally adapt tasks to only one arm while at the tail-end of a war is a far from an enjoyable experience, and it put notable strain on her right arm.

The long-term physical effects have proven typical, with the exception that the silver fire blazing through her veins wards off infection. She has experienced phantom limb pain, although that has lessened significantly over the centuries and seems now to largely be triggered by cold. This has presented an unexpected complication in the summer when the heat causes her residual limb to swell and the fastest way to reduce said swelling is through cold immersion. When she has the time, she prefers compression and elevation of her residual limb before wearing a prosthesis. Furthermore, although her silver fire staves off complications such as arthritis, she often experiences strain, pain, and fatigue of her right arm and shoulder.

The long-term psychological effect is a touch trickier to track. She lost the limb over a century ago, after all. In the immediate aftermath, she attempted to simply power through as if she hadn't lost the limb at all. There was a war on, and she didn't have time for this inconvenience. This refusal to accept her limb loss let alone slow down enough to adjust to it presented a problem for the first few years. She was given to overuse of her prosthesis and was resistant to adapting tasks + her environment. Now, however, it's simply a part of her life. She's adapted every spell possible to be cast one-handed; is aware of her needs + preferences and adapts her environment accordingly; and she's achieved a better balance in terms of when to wear a prosthesis and when to let it rest.

Perhaps the most unexpected side effect of limb loss has been the role it's played in rekindling her love of dweomers and artificing. She is one of the most prolific creators of enchanted items in history but slowed significantly after falling under the Crown of Horns. She's still not as prolific as she once was, but designing and enchanting prosthetic limbs has become a passion of hers. Particularly if she can make prosthetic limbs more accessible or useful to those who use them.

NOTES ON PROSTHETICS.

Firstly, Laeral has not had the same prosthesis for over a century. Even caring for them as well as possible, they wear down or get damaged. It's simply the nature of things. Additionally, she's always tinkering with her prostheses and trying to improve them. I'm going to focus on an overview rather than nitty-gritty details with a concentration on present day.

Laeral's prostheses fall into three primary categories: mundane, attuned, and deeply attuned. Mundane prostheses are simply prostheses without any magical alteration. For her, these typically take the form of activity specific prostheses when a magically assisted prosthesis is unnecessary or undesirable. The materials vary depending on the intended task but tend to be simple in design. (Meaning she's not covering them in gold and jewels.) Although she could craft these herself, she usually outsources to a trusted professional guided by her specifications. She does, however, lay webs of enchantments over them to help them endure.

Attuned prostheses are ones she's crafted with enchantments — which means, as the name implies, she has to attune to them after they've been crafted. Once that's been achieved, she's personalized her web of enchantments so well over the years that the prosthesis holds to her arm comfortably and can be used as if it was a real limb. The movement of it is fluid — but it's still an artificial limb. She has no feeling whatsoever in it. It's very useful, although not well-suited to delicate work. She has toyed over the years with the idea of using these prostheses as arcane focuses but has ultimately considered it not worth the risk. It is worth the risk, though, to add compartments for storing items such as enchanted rings or wands. She also deems it worth the risk to work spells into the material itself; meaning she might work in a rune that, when touched, transports her to a particular location. These could be considered her "iconic" prostheses; she wears them to official functions, when teaching, when working on most projects, etc. so they're the ones people most often see her wear.

Deeply attuned prostheses are an elevated version of her attuned prostheses. She might have two or three of her attuned prostheses just in case, but she only ever has one of these at a time. They are more difficult to make and more taxing to attune to. She attunes with them so completely that it is as if it was part of her body. This prosthesis does not become flesh once she's attuned, but she does have a sense of touch through it. It is somewhat deadened compared to if it was a flesh limb, but she can heighten the sensation through concentration, and it overall allows for more delicate work than if she had no sense of touch at all. Unlike an attuned prosthesis, she does not build in secret compartments or stored spells as she does not wish to interfere with the complex weave of enchantments. Also unlike an attuned prosthesis, though, she will use a deeply attuned prosthesis as an arcane focus the way one might a staff. Her sisters have jokingly equated it to her version of war paint for she favors this prosthesis when going into battle or on a potentially dangerous mission.

[danielfeketewrites]

DOCTOR WHO TOP 10 - War Doctor

Alright, his best episode is clearly The Day of the Doctor, but that's actually 11th Doctor's episode. War Doctor's entire era is expanded universe material trying to reconstruct something that never existed. That's at the very least intriguing. In addition to this... John Hurt might be my favourite actor of all time. So yeah, I love the War Doctor. Here are my favourite of his stories.

10. The Shadow Squad

To be perfectly honest, I'm not a fan of the War Doctor Begins range. But this series of blogposts started out around the 60th anniversary and I intend to keep it a positive celebration of my favourite stories, so here's the one story from that series I actually really liked. The Shadow Squad is exactly what a Time War story should be like, with the Temporal Eradicator travelling back in time and changing the timeline, while Time Lords try to Dalek-proof the timeline. Good stuff.

9. Decoy

This is just an Engines of War encore, but it's pretty solid and I enjoyed it quite a bit.

8. The Enigma Dimension

The final War Doctor story with John Hurt in the role... I'm going to level with you - I have no idea what it's about. Right after I listened to it, I rated it very, very highly and then promptly forgot every single thing about it. So I have to trust my younger self, one year into the past, and hope he was right. I'll have to re-listen this one...

7. The Shadow Vortex

A rare example of War Doctor getting a historical romp. And Neve McIntosh is in this! Although she's not playing Vastra.

But I'll admit it - this one is on the list because War Doctor has to get inside a Trabant, which is the funniest shit ever to me.

6. The Eternity Cage

I have a soft spot for Sontarans. And this is a really good Sontaran story. Not much else to say, really. Except maybe that I remember really liking the core concept of this one.

5. The Third Wise Man

I've said it many times already - I love Dave Rudden, I love Twelve Angels Weeping. Again, not much else to add here. The chronology of the war is a bit wobbly in this one, but it can be explained away either by Gary Russell's short story The Stranger or by Russell T Davies' short story Doctor Who and the Time War. Or both, you know. It's the Time War. Oh, and we get an explanation of what "the Nightmare Child" is, so there's that.

4. The Neverwhen

A Dalek army and a Time Lord army are stuck, caught in a fucked up timey-wimey battlefield. Excellent Time War material.

3. Only the Monstrous

Putting the whole first boxset here, as it's basically just one story anyway. Only the Monstrous is simple. Deceptively simple. Which is strange, because I usually prefer weirder, more complicated stuff in my Time War, thankyouverymuch. Only the Monstrous is just Nick Briggs writing a WWII movie... IN SPACE! But it's really engaging and emotional in all the right places. And it's kinda open about what it's trying to emulate - if the Daleks represent Nazi Germany, what about their allies, the other fascistic aliens in the story? Well, they're called Talians. Talians. For real. No one is hiding this and I love it. It's ultimately a story about how appeasement is a bad idea and you can't negotiate with fucking Nazis, which is definitely a timeless, needed message. War Doctor is antifa. Also, the Daleks have yet another extremely silly plan involving planets, and this one is genuinely excellent and very, very stupid. Only the Monstrous deserves more love.

2. Legion of the Lost

While I loved Only the Monstrous, I think I still prefer the variety of Infernal Devices... Here, in Legion of the Lost, War Doctor fights Shadovar, a Technomancer played by David Warner. I'm not sure why, but something about Legion just feels different to me. It feels somehow... special. I really love it and it's my favourite War Doctor story from Big Finish.

1. Engines of War

What else could have taken the number one spot, eh? George Mann's excellent reconstruction of a non-existent Doctor Who era, also known as Engines of War, is a really fun Doctor Who book, a spectacular Dalek story and probably the quintessential War Doctor adventure (if one isn't counting The Day of the Doctor, of course)... I love Cinder, the War Doctor is written really well here and I just enjoyed reading this book quite a bit. It also tries to forge a bridge between the 20th and the 50th anniversary specials, which I think is kinda cute.

[adenial]

ʙᴀʟᴅᴜʀ's ɢᴀᴛᴇ 𝟹 ᴠᴇʀsᴇ

ㅤㅤborn to the shadow empire of netheril in the year 1410 DR , only a handful of years before the conquest of featherdale . hailing from an elite family within the empire , older members being that of the shadovar , it was instilled in lovek from a young age to be fiercely loyal to the empire & that it's expansion was a reclimation of land that was stolen . ㅤㅤhowever , lovek was also a bastard dumped on his family , born out of wedlock with someone outside of netheril , and considered a shameful addition to the family . the treatment only grew worse when it was realized lovek had no talent for magic . ㅤㅤhe was raised and trained to be a soldier , the only thing he had to offer to his family being his body and his skills in combat . from a young age he trained as a soldier , loyalty beaten into his skull , understanding that there was no other place for him to belong . ㅤㅤhis family was rather drastic with their treatment of the young child , and their final test of his capabilities was even more so . ㅤㅤleft and abandoned in the bordering forest near the desertsmouth mountains , lovek's final task to prove his usefulness was to track down and kill a bear with nothing but his own hands . ㅤㅤfor nigh a fortnight , he hunted . growing weaker and weaker by the day , he played a game of cat and mouse with a beast he had located , until starvation would take one of them . ㅤㅤit lasted a month . lovek weak , and frail , in desperation sharpened his nails , cut for himself a knife , made weaponry of anything he could . ㅤㅤhe killed the bear as was ordered of him . with his own bare hands , after struggling with the weakened creature , he ripped it apart , and sat on the ground in silence to bask in a victory that didn't feel won . ㅤㅤin the silence , it spoke . from the very ground did the roots begin to move , twining 'round the fallen bear , rooting itself in it's wounds , patching itself together once more . ㅤㅤit would be like a god , to take this ill - earned victory and laugh in the poor child's face . the bear rose again , full of life and breath once again , appearing that it's broken form was fully healed . ㅤㅤand it spoke to him . it spoke of it's purpose , how it wept at the thought of death itself . how all things within it's reach should flourish , whether graceful or malign . ㅤㅤand lovek , most importantly , would flourish as well . ㅤㅤwith a touch of thorns , it taught a world completely unknown to lovek -- of nature , of it's balances , of how limiting such balance was . it taught him everything , it's roots moving to live within the chambers of his heart . ㅤㅤlovek did not return to his home after that day , for victory was not achieved . he had failed his final test , for the abundance of life had another way .

ㅤㅤbasically , lovek is a homebrew druid . chosen of the abundance , his entire life is dedicated to the protection of everything . evil ? good ? doesn't matter . if the abundance loves it , lovek will love it . because of this , he does have special abilities . ㅤㅤalsooo , he has been known to join new circles every once in a while , though eventually i think they grow suspicious of his ideals when thinking of balance and nature . ㅤㅤlovek is still 'viera' kinda , but he was born an elf and just developed bunny features because of his nature . is that a good enough explanation ? no ! but bunny he will stay gdi . ㅤㅤwhere is he in baldur's gate ? probaaabblyyy at the circle in act 1 , or maybe shadowfell , whatever floats y'alls boats . ㅤㅤㅤㅤspecial abilities : able to create monsters , if there are dead nearby . their bodies become filled with roots and branches and come back to life with the power of abundance , though driven insane . ㅤㅤㅤㅤcan sprout plants from under his flesh . don't ask how or why . winky face . ㅤㅤㅤㅤif he dies in combaatttt , after a day or so his body will dissapear :)) for why who knows . ㅤㅤㅤㅤhe does have wildshapes ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1. turns into a borzoi ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2. becomes a ball python ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ3. turns into a giant stag ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ4. bunny ....

[toadunderthedmscreen]

Greater Eirwen Woods

The Greater Eirwen Wood is a massive forest that spans a substantial portion of West Haven’s western border. The lands are intensely magical and fey in nature, and function as a conduit to several important extraplanar gateways – specifically those to the Shadowfell and Feywilds, as well as to the Underdark and other subplanes.

The woods were generally taken care of by a circle of twelve druidic conclaves who were a mix of people from the three middle planes, as Eirwen woods marks a place of great cultural significance and symbolises a unity between the Fey, the Mortal and the Shadovar.

This was until Blindwick was founded, and the high elves who migrated here took power into their own hands, which caused tensions to arise between the new city-state and the people who already lived here.

[corporativoarcanos]

Shadowverse Flame HD Animes #CorporativoArcanos Eps. 39

El siguiente contenido a ver no es de nuestra autoría los derechos están reservados al autor de la obra y al estudio de la adaptación Descripción: Nueva serie de Shadowsverse con un nuevo protagonista llamado Light Tenryu y su historia se desarrolla en Shadovar College, una instalación que entrena a jugadores profesionales del juego Shadowverse. Light Tenryu, un estudiante transferido, decide unirse a "Seventh Flame", uno de los siete clubes de Shadovar. ¡Sin embargo, Seventh Flame está a punto de cerrar debido a la falta de miembros! Para evitar la desaparición del club, Light decide buscar nuevos miembros. Pero lo que le espera son poderosos rivales que controlan una gran variedad de cartas... Shadowverse Flame 28 al 38 Episodio 39 Catalogo 2023 Series de Anime Esperamos que les guste el contenido recuerda compartir lo y dejar tu DONACION eso nos apoyara Read the full article

[andijustcantstay]

shadowbred by paul kemp ( 4 / 5 stars )

the shadovar , led by rivalen tanthul , are planning on plunging sembia into civil war in order to help their goddess shar bring about the return of the ancient empire netheril . erevis cale receives a message from his friend magadon asking for help , and finds that this is connected to rivalen .

i had a lot of trouble making that little summary i'm not gonna lie , there was a lot going on in this book yet somehow nothing at all until the last third or so . for some reason the book began by almost solely focusing on the acts of the shade enclave instead of cale , who i only found out was supposed to be the main character after googling the book when i finished it .

i think part of the reason for this taking me so long to read was that there were simply way too many characters and names to keep track of , and almost no connections between them until closer to the end of the book . i personally enjoy really complicated books like this one , but it was to the point that at some times i just had no idea who we were talking about .

that being said , what this book lacks in plot it makes up for in pretty much everything else . the characters and world are all fleshed out very well , and when i was reading i was incredibly immersed . i also wasn't even aware that there was an entire trilogy just about cale before this trilogy began , because enough is explained in this book that reading the previous ones isn't necessary .

not sure yet whether i'll pick up the rest of the series , but if i happen to see them in a bookstore then i definitely will