#“YOU WORSHIP THE MOONMAIDEN TOO

[basketobread]

MY POOKIE PRINCESSSSSSSSSS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DRAWING MY GIRL ❤❤❤❤❤ ALSO THAT LAST DOODLE MADE ME LAUGH SM FDISUHFIUSSDUI <3333

little doodle of @basketobread ‘s lunara!! i love their art and comics <3 lunara is also very cute, she deserves all the pretty women

bonus doodle with one of my tavs, aelyn, who is also a cleric of selune

spiderman pointing meme at each other

[optiwashere]

Please write your thoughts about the importance of Shadowheart for Shar/Selûne :D

I FEED on character analysis.

SO!!!! This got long as fuck and also morphed into what you asked + a general character interpretation.

I relied on a combination of 2nd, 3rd, and 5th edition D&D lore, R.A. Salvatore novels, and of course BG3 as sources. Shadowheart's characterization adds up the most coherently on the purely romance / "get her away from Shar" path, and that is what I'm using as a basis for this post. Even when you're playing an "evil" route, she behaves in ways that betray a lot of what I get into under the break. This post, however, is biased towards the "good" path of her personal quest for the sake of my sanity and a somewhat reasonable word count.

First, a preamble for people that are maybe less knowledgeable about Forgotten Realms lore.

One of the biggest characterizations of Shar and Selûne in the Forgotten Realms is that they are twin sides of the same thing: night. Night as an aesthetic is symbolic of, among other things: mysteries, being lost without guidance (such as in faith or purpose), and finding oneself when one reaches for the truth. I.e., reaching light from the moon, stars, or daybreak (which is itself a symbol as the natural conclusion of darkness being light for redemption following suffering, goodness defeating evil, finding faith, etc.)

Shar and Selûne are sisters that also share the Night domain in 3e, a sort of fulcrum they both work around — Shar as the "malevolent" darkness with Selûne as the "benevolent" night. There is even a recognized heresy called the Dark Moon heresy in both cults/religions that Shar and Selûne are actually the same goddess playing one gigantic trick on Faerûn (this comes from a 3.5e splatbook called Power of Faerûn) but it's been pushed time and time again that the two sisters are, in fact, two separate entities. But duality of divinity, and how worshipers interpret their god, is a theme we see played up a ton in BG3.

What we know about Shar is that she despises her sister. Loathes her. Not only does she loathe her, she tricked Selûne's followers during the Time of Troubles, about 140 years before BG3, into worshiping her instead of the Moonmaiden. The Time of Troubles was a period when gods walked the Realms, rather than tossing avatars around everywhere. This lead to the formation of a fanatical group of cultists that followed the real Selûne, called the Lunatics (I'm still proud of managing to reference them in a goddamn Explicit PWP fic)

Meanwhile, Selûne is seen as a calming force. She wars with her sister every single night, and does not like her one bit, but she does it as a means to protect others from her sister rather than as a spiteful game. She's not as omnipresent in people's lives, she is just a natural force to a lot of her followers.

How does any of this relate to Shadowheart? Spoiler stuff and the actual character analysis under the break.

We know that Shadowheart was a "chosen" of Selûne as a child, per her parents' dialogue under the House of Grief. However, it's important to note that most religions in Faerûn name potential clerics as "chosen" ones of gods and goddesses.

We know that, throughout the game, Shadowheart learns that she is being manipulated by the Lady of Loss to do acts that go against some sort of internalized moral code that Shadowheart has. We see her approval go up when you do good acts (as long as you ask for compensation, or if it's to help helpless people/animals) and we see her disapprove when you press her boundaries or act unjustly cruel. "Unjust" is left so vague because she does not behave at all according to how the vast majority of Sharrans behave. There are numerous other flags for approval/disapproval such as her enjoying playful chaos, or disliking when you're too trusting of other companions when you first meet them, but we'll focus on the first set I mentioned.

We also know that Shadowheart was continually subjected to memory erasure via the cult of Shar in Baldur's Gate. This gets mildly restored here and there via the tadpoles and Dame Aylin, but her memory is mostly gone. So this moral code is something ingrained in her somehow, because Sharrans don't have kindness training. There's another entire character analysis to be written about Viconia's role in this as it relates to her own character in Baldur's Gate 2, but let's ignore that for now.

In the cloister under the House of Grief, there is a note you can find that outlines the squad sent to find the artifact that protects everyone from the Absolute's domination. The squad has a leader, and it is not Shadowheart. She is listed as "healer" and the text before this explicitly states that the entire squad is expendable. None of them matter to Shar.

BUT!

Divine visitation by a goddess is incredibly rare. It usually only happens to high level clerics, which Shadowheart isn't really even at 12th-level, and to those that the goddess has an extreme, vested interest in. If you free the Nightsong/Dame Aylin instead of killing her, Shadowheart is wrenched out of the Material Plane and made to suffer for an indeterminate amount of time. That, plus literally meeting Shar in the conclusion to her personal question, is very odd given what we know about Shadowheart.

If we presume that Larian did their jobs, and I'm going to because I trust them, then there is an immediate dilemma presented here. Either Shadowheart matters to Shar (she is not expendable), or she is just another zealot (she is expendable.) There is no half-truth in that logic table that really works for Shar, she's an absurdly dogmatic goddess. See: literally any Sharran you encounter in BG3 that isn't Shadowheart. It's possible that the writer of the note didn't know what they were talking about, but I think that's a lazy out that doesn't hold water with the rest of the evidence.

So, which is it? This being the part where I'm mostly in interpretation territory, Shar views Shadowheart as the perfect puppet, a toy to needle at her sister, not because she is important at all as a person, but because she's a representation of Selûne that Shar can mold to suit her image as she did in the Time of Troubles. We hear that in the game when Shadowheart basically says that she was just a thing for Shar to use. She's beaten into (what Shar believes will be) submission for not becoming a Dark Justiciar, but it only serves to sever the tie between cleric and goddess.

Shadowheart is Shar's answering play to Selûne beating that trick from the Time of Troubles, and there will be another Shadowheart after her eventual death. Shadowheart is both incredibly important and utterly worthless to Shar in the same way that an abuser uses affection and trust to hurt their victims. Love bombs in the form of divine power, sending her on this important mission, and offering the title of Dark Justiciar are followed by pain when Shadowheart displeases her. As if, on a whim, all that supposed mutual respect could turn into non-consensual, extreme violence.

Shadowheart is an objectified opportunity for Shar to fuck with Selûne for the entirety of a single half-elf's lifespan (anywhere from 150-200 years) and nothing more. A plaything to discard when all is said and done after a microcosm of time where a goddess is concerned. Whatever Shadowheart thinks she's benefiting from with Shar, it's all a trick. It's a massive delusion with which she's been brainwashed into participating.

And deep down, deep deep way deep down, Shadowheart knows this even in Act One. She spouts random sayings and the sorts of 2edgy4me one-liners that you would expect from a somewhat goth-y, slightly sassy Stock Evil Cleric in a fantasy RPG. For a good portion of Act One, you wouldn't be wrong to assume she's extremely one note and a total zealot. That is, unless you know two things:

That Shar is a fucking menace in Faerûn, and nothing good ever comes naturally from her cult. Anyone that knows FR lore was probably like me when they first interacted with Shadowheart. I know I basically said, "What the fuck, you're not a Sharran lmao. Either Larian goofed hard, or something's fishy here."

That extraordinarily devout people tend not to babble in verse, prayer, and all that unless they are also trying to convince themselves to have more faith in a set of beliefs that they're not entirely sold on. This isn't 100% of the time, but it's something you see in people whose faith is not very strong. People who have ironclad faiths and hold consistent ideologies tend to rely more on personal interpretation of faith, for good or ill. You see this all over BG3 in the people that are more confident in their beliefs, as well. Isobel, Orin, and Z'rell are three wildly different angles on that, for example. It's really all over the game in the NPCs.

That second point is the more important one here. Shadowheart, in Act One, is constantly talking about her goddess. If she's not hiding the artifact from you, she's couching an event in concern over what Shar would think of how she behaved. Like she's still a scared child who doesn't know how to handle what's happening around her despite being completely capable in scenarios as hectic as melee combat with ogres. The difference shines bright as day if you play a follower of Selûne and push back on her beliefs, though you do of course get a lot of vitriol in the beginning. Even so, it's clear that Shadowheart knows something is off about Shar whenever confronted with actual Sharran activity/belief, but she's been brainwashed and abused so horrendously that she constantly tries to "correct" herself to appease her abuser.

Selûne, however, isn't really a "part" of Shadowheart's quest in the same way as Shar. The Moonmaiden is not an active participant, she is not a guiding hand or even a faint idea in Shadowheart's thought processes because of how intense the memory blending got for her. The most we ever really get of Selûne's opinion comes from external sources (pretty much entirely from Shadowheart's parents, Isobel, and Aylin when she's not PROCLAIMING DIVINE RIGHTS.) To the Moonmaiden, Shadowheart is really just another of her many, many children spread throughout the Realms. Yet, Shadowheart retains that sense of inherent goodness that Selûne instils in her followers.

Unlike the Lady of Loss, Selûne's indifference isn't hateful or spiteful at all. For Selûne, the ultimate goal of any of her followers is to find themselves. To illuminate who they are meant to be by moonlight. Two of her domains in 3rd edition are Protection and Travel, and in 5e she has Knowledge as well, while one of her "mantles" (the domain equivalent for psionics) is Freedom. She wants to give her followers the ability to freely tread whichever road will lead to self-actualization.

Selûne demands almost nothing of her own followers so long as they act according to the basic tenets of a traditionally Chaotic Good deity. She accepts flaws, faults, and failures in her clerics as much as she rewards strengths, virtues, and victories. There is no divine intervention from Selûne because she accepts Shadowheart intrinsically as long as Shadowheart finds herself. All it took for Selûne to take Shadowheart back after forty years of being a fanatical Sharran was saving one person, and trusting one of two people that we know she's let in for that forty years (the PC, as well as possibly Nocturne) — Selûne sees that she's an abuse victim at the heart of it all.

Side-note: Selûne's primary holy symbol is two eyes surrounded by stars. She is always a passive witness to her clerics' deeds. I don't think I need to get into that symbolism.

Whenever given the chance, Shadowheart values freedom incredibly highly. Even in someone she can take the entire game to warm up to, such as Lae'zel. Her dialogue after Lae'zel denounces Vlaakith speaks directly to this. It's seen repeatedly in her comments on other characters' personal quests such as Astarion, or Karlach, and with Lorroakan's intent on imprisoning Aylin in Act 3.

Once Shadowheart is pulled away from Shar's influence in the end of Act 2/early Act 3, she is... not a completely different person, but she is absolutely a calmer individual that also allows her emotions to surface more intensely. If you're romancing her by Act 2, she confesses that she wants to be with the PC (forever) IMMEDIATELY after being punished horrifically by Shar; she progresses the romance far faster once Shar is out of her brain; she cries, alone, in front of the PC if she chooses to listen to her parents and spare herself from Shar while also killing them. She's known this entire time that she's purposefully holding parts of herself back, and this is her immediate reaction to being set free.

Of course, it's a video game and things aren't always perfectly paced, especially considering the implementation of the Long Rest system. Much of this interpretation requires you to accept that.

After the small dialogue about Shar's intervention after the Gauntlet, the narrator comments that you're not sure if telling Shadowheart where her divine power now comes from will break her spirit forever. That's interesting, and it makes her almost manic change to "I have to be with this person forever" in the romance so utterly sad. Shadowheart is an almost textbook depiction of someone who struggles immensely with vulnerability and emotional openness due to childhood neglect and abuse. Even worse, she's been suffering that neglect and abuse for forty-plus years and she cannot remember what life was like before the time when she constantly yearned for the approval of her abuser. When she's set free and given the appropriate space to manage her feelings (all of the times she asks to be given space/asks the PC to respect her boundaries), support from friends and loved ones in the way Larian handled the camp crew's reactions to everyone's personal quests, and a purpose in life that extends beyond her abuser, she flourishes almost immediately.

To Selûne, Shadowheart is simply another person finding themselves in a world that's incredibly difficult to navigate. Under Shar's domination, Shadowheart will never be anything more than a useful puppet that dances happily whenever her goddess asks, pleased to be what she thinks is useful as she wears the false title of Dark Justiciar. With Selûne watching but not pushing, Shadowheart can be free of everything but her own choices, her own mistakes and victories. Her own person, freed from expectation.

P.S. "Breaking out of toxic thought patterns" is a common thread in the companion romances and quests. In a similar way to how Astarion uses sexuality to mask a part of himself in his romance, Shadowheart sees all this time she's spent holding herself back as an excuse to reverse course and accelerate ridiculously fast by comparison.

My point is, she is a U-Haul Lesbian.

[jessiemeows]

Underdark Trysts

A/N: Hello! Although I am holding off on my long fic. I decided I want to write more little drabbles that I believe I'll eventually add to my long fic. I want to let everyone know I never really written anything with smut so this is my first time lol. I hope it's at least decent enough. I made this in Astarion's POV because throughout my upcoming fic I want it to be divided from Eris' prespective and Astarion's :)

R: E for explicit!!

Content Warning: fingering, PIV, cum inside without protection, hints of him maybe becoming overly jealous?? a little too dominant at one point

Word Count: 1300

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F! Dark Urge Tiefling, My OC Eris, Selunite Cleric/Paladin

Summary: After completing the Soverign Spaw's quest to rid the rot of duergar that killed his young, Eris and Astarion are looting a small hut together. Astarion gets turned on and wants to have a quickie. His simple plan fell apart weeks ago (even before the tiefling party) but he's refusing to realize it and keeps blaming his tadpole for any feelings he gets.

Eris scrunched up her face, nose twitching in distaste. "Ugh, do these duergar eat anything but mushrooms?" She rummaged through wicker baskets and rotted crates, her eyes scanning for anything of use. Astarion stood with his arms crossed, his lean frame leaning casually against the rough-hewn wooden planks, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched her and her furry friend, Scratch search the hut. A short respite after he and his companions had just finished defeating a group of Absolute-worshiping duergar who had slain the young myconid followers of Sovereign Spaw, and were forced to kill the rogue myconid Sovereign Glut, who had sought to overthrow Spaw. 

Astarion chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know, darling, we are in the Underdark. I'm pretty sure that's all they eat."

Eris spun around, a pouty look on her face. "Well, it's gross. I don't think I've ever liked mushrooms and that's saying something since I don't remember much. One of these days I hope we can find a nice dessert. Maybe a chocolate fudge cake!"

Astarion's smile grew. "Hmmm, I'm not sure that will happen, my sweet but maybe." He couldn't help but find her pout adorable.

Eris turned back to face a couple of shelves, but they were just out of her reach. "A little help?" she pleaded, looking back at Astarion. He snorted and sauntered over, pulling down the book and holding it just out of her reach. "Go on, take it."

Eris glared at him. "Astarion, I swear by the moonmaiden’s grace I will smite you if you don't give it to me." He laughed and relented, handing her the book. "thank you" she muttered, rolling her eyes and stashing the book in her bag of holding. Scratch followed her as she moved to the next area of the small hut.

Astarion's breath caught as he drank in the sight of her. The warm glow of the mushrooms illuminated her freckled now blood-stained skin and fiery red eyes. Her blood soaked low-cut armor and form-fitting corset accentuated the swell of her breasts, just staring at her he could feel his trousers begin to tighten as his arousal grew... He needed her. Now. Straining to listen, he heard the others down by the Ebonlake. Lae'zel and Shadowheart were arguing about the artifact yet again, while Karlach, Wyll, and Gale discussed what they suspected lay across the lake - likely more Absolute cultists. This was wonderful because no one was paying any attention to the two of them.

He turned to her, trying to sound casual. "Darling, turn around I found something." Eris spun around, curiosity in her eyes. And then his lips were on hers, needy and demanding. Without hesitation, he let his hands wander down her waist and firmly grasped her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. He could tell she was startled, but she leaned into the kiss, letting out a little giggle at his eagerness. 

"Astarion," she warned, but he deepened the kiss. "They are all busy, no one will know," he muttered against her lips. He trailed kisses down her neck, feeling the slight bumps of the bite scars he had left the previous night during their nightly trysts, when he drank her blood. Gods, she was so sweet, allowing him to drink from her each night. He was fortunate she was a cleric, and that he gifted her the amulet of Silvanus back at the grove or she would have been left exhausted every day. A soft moan escaped her as he kissed her collarbone, his hands squeezing her breasts.

"Shhh, pet, as much as I adore your sweet moans, those sounds are meant for my ears alone. But, do you want more?" he whispered against her skin. She nodded and he pulled back, looking at her. "hmmm what was that? I'll need words, little love."

Astarion smiled as Eris whispered, "Yes, please, Starry, I want more." He pressed his lips against her skin, then murmured, "Good girl."

Astarion swiftly scooped up Eris and placed her on a somewhat stable, broken desk. He shooed away Scratch without delay. With deft fingers, Astarion quickly unlaced and pulled down Eris' trousers and pink laced underwear. Eris was already so wet, but Astarion wanted her to beg just a little more. His icy fingers found their way into her folds, pumping slowly inside her, moving rhythmically. As he kissed her neck he quickened his pace. Hearing her quiet whimpers, he paused the kisses to see Eris concentrating on not being too loud.

Astarion placed his free hand over Eris' mouth. "Moan for me, my little moon. I'll make sure no one hears you," he whispered smugly. He savored watching the writhing tiefling submit to his dominance, reveling in her willing surrender. Only he was allowed to do this, no one else- not Gale, not Wyll, not Lae'zel, no other tiefling that had hit on her back at the grove, only him. His simple plan was succeeding tremendously.

"A-Astarion," Eris mumbled through his fingers. 

"Yes, love?" Astarion cooed. "I need you to use your words. You know how dearly I adore your sweet voice."

Eris struggled to force out the words, "P-please.". 

"Love, I don't know what you want," Astarion teased. Eris pleaded, "I want you, Starry. Please, I need you."

He wasted no time unlacing his own trousers and pulling Eris close. With a covetous murmur, "Only because you asked so sweetly," he plunged his hard, aching cock into her folds. Eris squealed, but Astarion quickly covered her mouth to stifle the sound. He began thrusting slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length, before gradually picking up the pace, pounding into her harder. Eris' tail curled around his leg as her long nails gripped the collar of his jacket.

Astarion could feel Eris's body tightening around him as they neared climax. Her fingers were now wrapped his curls. "Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered breathlessly. His thrusts grew sloppy and ragged as he reached his release inside her.

Both breathing heavily he rested his head against her shoulder, still inside her. She played with his curls, then gave him a small but sweet kiss on his forehead, just as she had done back at the tiefling party. That simple gesture grounded him, keeping his mind from wandering as it had then. He didn't want to wander; he wanted to savor this time with her, for he truly enjoyed it. Cazador wouldn't whisk away this sweet, lost, murderous fool of a selunite. They were both safe. 

Astarions ears perked up when he heard soft foot steps moving closer to them, giving Eris a nervous look the two quickly jumped apart, hurriedly pulling their pants back up and trying to look nonchalant. Shadowheart entered the doorway, saying, "Hey, are you guys almost done looking around in here? The rest of us are ready to head back to camp. I don't know about you, but I need a bath after that Mushroom got his guts all over me."

"Haha! Yes, we're done. Just give me a minute to organize my bag, and we'll be out," Eris replied quickly, her face flushed with embarrassment. Astarion chuckled to himself, amused by her discomfort.

"Okay, I'll be out here with Gale. The other three have already started making their way back," Shadowheart said, her confused expression clearly indicating she didn't want to know what had just happened. With that, she left the doorframe.

Astarion looked at Eris smugly, teasing, "Look at you, you little minx of a Selunite, lying to your best friend. Maybe the Sharran and I are bad influences on you."

Eris lightly punched his arm. "I really don't think she wants to know what just happened," she teased back.

"Probably not. Alright, let's go, before you make me want to go for another round," Astarion said, his voice low and seductive.

Eris walked through the doors ahead of him, and Astarion paused for a moment, his stomach filled with butterflies. He quickly shook off the feeling and followed Eris, muttering, "Stupid tadpole is playing tricks again."

[y-rhywbeth2]

Gods & Clergy: Selûne

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Religion | Gods | Shar | Selûne | Bhaal | Mystra | Jergal | Bane #1 | Bane #2 | Bane #3 | Myrkul | Lathander | Kelemvor | Tyr | Helm | Ilmater | Mielikki | Oghma | Gond | Tempus | Silvanus | Talos | Umberlee | Corellon | Moradin | Yondalla | Garl Glittergold | Eilistraee | Lolth | Laduguer | Gruumsh | Bahamut | Tiamat | Amodeus | The rest of the Faerûnian Pantheon --WIP

I should probably compile some lore on gods who aren't evil messes for a change... Then right back into the evil nonsense with Shar.

Worshippers & Clergy: All are equal and personal freedom and tolerance of other ways of life is very important. Also something-something motherhood. Now if you'll excuse me: "o, White Night Lady, guideth mine eye to wherever the hells mine keys that I had literally five seconds ago art?"

Silverstars: You can make an amazing amount of things out of moonlight, really.

Selûne: The Anti-Shar. She's kind of a spoonie.

-

"Let all on whom Selûne's light falls be welcome if they desire. As the silver moon waxes and wanes, so too does life. Trust in Selûne's radiance, and know that all love alive under her light shall know her blessing. Turn to the moon, and she will be your true guide. Promote acceptance and tolerance. See all other beings as equals. Aid fellow Selûnites as if they were your dearest friends." - Selûne's Dogma.

Selûne's worshippers come from all sorts: people who work the night shift, and other people seeking protection from Shar; travellers and navigators who will be navigating using the night sky; sailors; female mages; diviners and people hoping for a glimpse of the future; and lycanthropes who want to resist the influence of their curse. Selûne is also considered associated with femineity and is something of a mother goddess, and is worshipped by women, particularly mothers and couples trying to conceive.

In every day life one might call on her if they're lost, or to find misplaced objects and such - for example, where the hells have the house keys gone?

Female mages born under a full moon are considered to carry her blessing.

The moon waxes and wanes and may show itself in a vast array of colours and shapes; so is the moon goddess as inherently mercurial. Her faces are many and never the same, and so her follows are many and no two are the same.

There are only a few concrete rules of the faith. All people are equal and should be made welcome and treated with dignity. Shar's predations must be combated wherever you uncover them. One should always give healing freely to those who need it. The lonely and ostracised should be offered friendship and care.

The faith is extremely, proudly diverse, and Selûne places very few demands upon her followers in exchange for her blessings. There is no "right" way to worship the Moonmaiden, individuality and customisation in religious practices in encouraged.

-

Her clergy promotes acceptance of different ways of life and follows a lose hierarchy with emphasis on personal freedom.

The clergy have no uniform, save their holy symbol (a pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars, in silver), and they dress how they see fit. Moonstones are popular. When dressed for battle they can often be recognised by the iconic weapon known as the moon's hand - a footman's mace with a smooth head.

Even her temples follow no set structure, one may find a temple of the Night White Lady is a massive cathedral, a small roadside shrine, or a circle of standing stones on top of the village hill where her followers go to dance under the moonlight. "Anywhere the full moon shines is a place for [worshipping] Selûne."

Clergy are known collectively as Mooncloaks (informally) and Ladyservants (formally). A variety of titles exist within the church. The loose ranks of experience are as follows: those who are interested in joining but have not yet entered training are Postulants, Novices are referred to as the Called. Runrae (singular: Runra) are fully trained priests.

One of the Called becomes a Runra when they are assigned a simple task in the form of a low-level quest where they're expected to show that they have learnt the lessons of their faith. When successful, Selûne contacts them in their dreams via a vision, and they are a priest.

Ranks ascend into Alrunrae, Tenembrae, Sartembrae, Trintelrae, Aumrae, and finally the Calunalae.

A Calunala is an independent agent who maintains close personal ties with the goddess, essentially serving as her secret agents in the war against Shar.

Priests tend to wander Faerûn, making a living by offering their services as navigators (especially if you're traveling by night) and fortune tellers (there are no diviners more accurate than a Selûnite). There are no restrictions about whatever work they want to do to support themselves, and travelling mooncloaks can be found in part time jobs blacksmithing, weaving, farming, serving tables... They're also prepared to fight against Sharrans and lycanthropes, whenever and wherever they cause harm.

Not infrequently, a mooncloak will receive missions and holy duties - sometimes from higher ranking priests, and often from Selûne herself. Whenever she sets them a task, the Moonmaiden usually grants them temporary spells and abilities to aid them. With their siblings in the faith alway ready to aid them, and their goddess personally lending her aid, Selûne's clergy often give the optimistic opinion that "The Moon waxes and wanes, and fortunes of the holy folk of the Moon rise and fall - but the Moon is ever with us, sailing on no matter how dark the sky."

Selûnites traditionally charge very little for their services, save for a place to sleep for the night and a warm meal, and maybe any few coins you can afford to spare. They have a reputation for kindness, open-mindedness and generosity that makes their faith very popular.

Selûne personally encourages her clergy to be self-reliant, kind and humble, but also wants to see them live lives they're happy in.

As stated, Selûnite rituals are highly customised and tend to be unique to the priest in question. Generally they are performed in the open under the moonlight and involve dancing and meditating. Offerings of milk or wine are poured on Selûnite altars during the full and new moons. If the priest is in the godess' good graces then she will cause the libation to transform into moonfire - an "opalescent, glowing fluid with the consistency of custard." It's described as feeling silk-soft to the touch. The touch of the moonfire as it flows down the altar may enchant objects or bestow powers upon the things and beings it touches, as per the will of Selûne (it can also destroy undead). On ritual nights, her priests cast commune in order to socialise with their goddess and reaffirm their personal connection with her.

There are two holy days: the Mystery of the Night and the Conjuring of the Second Moon.

The Mystery of the Night is performed once a year by every priest (it has no set day, it occurs whenever the priest in question holds it). The priest lies before an altar of the Moonmaiden and slips into a trance. They fly upwards and spiral the moon, communing with Selûne via an exchange of visions. This ritual is extremely taxing, but the priest will quickly recover with rest.

The Conjuring of the Second Moon occurs once every four years during Shieldmeet, and is generally a day when the church goes to war with the church of Shar. To aid them, priests summon Shards to do their beings - celestials who take the form of blue-haired, winged warrior women who serve Selûne (equivalent to planetars in power). At the end of the day, one mortal priestess will leave with them to join their ranks.

Religious orders in service of the Moonmaiden include the Swords of the Lady (also known as "Lunatics" behind their back). They're a fanatical order of warriors dedicated to combating Shar and her worshippers.

The Oracles of the Moon are an organisation of female mages, specialising in divination, who dedicate themselves to Selûne's service.

The Order of the Sun Soul is a monastic order that worships Selûne and Lathander.

Specialty priests are known as Silverstars.

They can see in the dark perfectly for up to 30ft.

They can create blades made of moonlight, wieldable only by the silverstar that made it. The blade causes no visible damage to living beings, but it does sap their life force and disrupt magic, preventing mages from casting. The flesh of undead visibly melts away under its touch.

They can raise or lower the levels of bodies of water, akin to the effects of the tide.

They can fire small meteors (shooting stars) from their hands, in an effect much like fireballs. They explode on impact.

A Silverstar infected with lycanthropy has control over their transformations, and Selûne protects them from being damaged by silver.

They can also shape moonlight into a wall - the wall is intangible, but it illuminates its surroundings, dispelling magical darkness. It will cause harm to any with evil intent, and followers of Shar (or Umberlee), as well as any undead being that passes through it. Magical items on the person of an individual who passes through will glow red, drawing attention to them, and magical potions will explode.

Stairs and bridges can also be crafted from moonlight, which can reach up to 15ft in length. While standing on the bridge, individuals are protected from enchantments, life-draining effects and missiles. It's impossible to knock them off of the bridge.

Finally they can shape the light into a net that protects a specific area. The strands are visible only to the priests, the goddess and those under the spell's protection. Everything else - intruders, weapons and magic - that enters the area is forced back to its point of origin. Attacks will be rebounded.

-

Selûne is a Chaotic Good deity. Her realm is in the Gates of the Moon, on the plane of Ysgard.

She doesn't care about ritual and dogma or how observant of these practices her followers are, as long as they are able to support themselves, fulfilled in life and will offer kindness to others. The spirit of faith is more important to Our Lady of Silver than the scriptures of religion.

Sometimes she is taken by a joyful, energetic mood. Sometimes she is a quiet, caring and maternal figure, prone to poetic moods. Whichever mood she's in, she carries herself with an underlying sense of grief that seems millennia old. Selûne is slow to anger and prefers to avoid fights, but that changes rapidly when she comes into conflict with her sister, and there she displays a side to herself that is much more warlike. She also opposes Umberlee on behalf of sailors and others who live by the sea. When in conflict with her enemies Selûne is merciless.

Selûne was (apparently) born of the primordial essence of the universe, one half of the Two-Faced Goddess with her twin, Shar. Together they created the planetary bodies of the solar system, including the Earthmother, Chauntea.

When Chauntea begged for warmth to nurture life upon her, the Two-Faced goddess experienced conflicting desire for the first time. Selûne was willing to grant the Earthmother her wish, but for Shar, the very concept was a horrifying antithesis to her very being.

The argument between the two spawned the concepts (and gods) of destruction; such as war, disease and death/murder. Eventually, Selûne reached into the Elemental Plane of Fire and drew a portion of it into Realmspace, and fashioned it into the sun - a process that burned her.

Shar's rage doubled, and she began to snuff out every light she could find in the universe, causing Selûne to tear out a part of her own essence and fashion it into a weapon that she threw at Shar in defence of the newborn life of Realmspace. This portion of Selûne passed through Shar and formed itself into the Weave - the goddess Mystryl (who would one day be called Mystra). Mystryl sided with Selûne, and Shar was forced to concede defeat now that she was utterly outnumbered.

This battle has left Selûne permanently weakened, and her strength waxes and wanes much like the phases of the moon. The two sisters continue their argument - and Shar is boldest when her sister is at her weakest.

The Moonmaiden's avatar takes the form of a human woman, with various appearances, her age generally conforming to one of the maiden, mother, crone concepts. In one of her more matronly, middle-aged forms she enjoys walking the realms, and curiously has decided to open an inn in Waterdeep using this form, unbeknownst to many. Her apparent health depends on the state of the moon, while it wanes she appears sicker and closer to death. Regardless of its phase, she glows faintly with moonlight in the darkness.

Her lesser manifestations include dancing trails of little lights known as "moondust" or "moon motes." She manifests these to people who are lost at night, or traveling over dangerous ground that they can't perceive. She will also provide them for her faithful, when they require a light source to perform an important task but have no way to see.

Her messengers and servants include owls, weredragons and other lycanthropes and shapeshifters, and her Shards.

For a while, prior to the Time of Troubles, she worked under the goddess of love, Sune. She later went her own way and resumed operating as an independent deity, but maintains a close relationship with Sune and Lliira.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Lap

Zevlor asks Bea to sit in his lap, and she has a bit of a crisis. SFW.

Zevlor thought it was a reasonable request.

He simply asked his lover if she would sit in his lap.

“Zev, are you out of your mind?!” Beatrice cried, a horrified look on her very pretty face. “I’m not just taller than you. I’m quite a bit heavier—" I’ll crush him! Crush his poor legs!

He sighed. “I realize that. However, I still would like you in my lap. Please.” Zevlor added with a wink, hoping she would surrender to his charm.

Hands now on her hips, she groaned. “What if I—”

“I was a Hellrider, sweetheart. I can take it.”

WHAT?!

“D-Did you really just say ‘I can take it’ regarding having me sit in your lap?” She asked, eyes narrowed. “I…Zev…” Her then contorted into what Mum calls my “very sad face.” “I’ll hurt you, and I don’t want that.”

He rose from the chair and took her hands in his. “Bea darling, you won’t. How about this---we’ll sit on the bed, you can have your legs over my lap, and I hold you? Is that better?”

Much. At least I won’t crush you. I’m sorry I’m not a petite little thing. I’m sorry I’m too tall, too fat, too big, too—

As a tear slid down her cheek, one of his hands let go of hers and brushed the tear away. “What’s wrong, my love?”

She shook her head, more tears falling. “I’m sorry I’m too big.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not.” He positioned her the way he described with her long legs over his lap, an arm around her waist, and his tail curling around my legs.

Breathe, Bea.

I’m in Zev’s arms.

I’m safe.

“You’ll never be too big for me. Never.” He kissed her neck just below an ear as his hand on her waist went under her top, kneading her softness. “I’m more than enough man to handle my pulchra,” he lightly nipped at her neck before soothing her with more kisses. Moonmaiden take me. He’s perfect and lovely and amazing and I want him so badly please. “After all, dear…it takes a man to please a goddess like you.” He purred as he littered kisses on her jaw.

OH?!?!

With a strangled moan, she managed to get out, “You’ve…you’ve called me that before…a goddess…”

He chuckled. “Because you are, Bea.”

“Is it because I’m…well, you know…” She trailed off, her brow creasing.

“Plush? Plump?” He needs to stop saying it so sensually, or I’m going to combust. “Perfect? You’re a goddess, darling. My pretty, voluptuous goddess…” The hand under her top drifted upwards, squeezing and caressing as he went. “A goddess deserving of worship.”

Oh.

Oh wow.

Heart pounding in her chest, she was breathless when she spoke again. “I…I don’t know what say…”

His movements slowed. “Is this too much, darling? If you’re feeling uncomfortable or overwhelmed, then please tell me.”

She squeezed her brown eyes shut and snuggled closer to embrace him. Zev. My Zev. I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. “No. I…it’s all very new. But I…I like it.”

Did he just purr?! “I’m glad.” Purring Zev is so adorable. “I like holding you, pulchra.” His tail curled around her waist. “All those awful thoughts about being too big for me…let them fall away, my angel…I have you, Bea. I have you.”

Beatrice released a shaky breath she had no idea she was holding.

Breathe.

“I have you.”

Breathe.

She tightened her hold on him, opening her eyes so her gaze could meet his. I love you. “We have each other.”

“That we do, pulchra. That we do. Now,” Ooooh that’s his tail tickling my leg. “Let’s enjoy our time together before you must return to the Elfsong.”

Right.

Fuck.

She frowned, leaning her head against his. And minding his horns. I’ve accidentally bonked myself more times than I care to admit. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

The tiefling hummed, not loosening his hold on her. “I promise…when all this is over, we’ll never spend another night apart.” Never. “Imagine spending every evening together. Waking up together every morning.” They sat in silence I don’t know how long before Zevlor spoke again. “You’re a beautiful woman, darling. I only wish you’d see it.”

You and me both, Zev.

Beatrice snorted softly. “Well, there’s lots of people who don’t think I am and have told me so.” It’s partially why I took every assignment I could in the temple. That way I wouldn’t have to endure the looks and comments from Baldurian high society. And then after him, I entirely avoided events, functions, balls, you name it.

“They have no taste.” He said in a clipped tone that she had rarely heard from him. “You’re a goddess. A vision of beauty, heart, and faith---not only in Selune but in your fellow man.” Zevlor shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Including this one.”

She tilted his chin up to properly see my handsome Zev and smiled. “Especially this one.”

“A benevolent goddess with such faith in me. I’m touched.” He teased, brushing the tips of his clawed fingers against the softness beneath her top.

Her lips touched his in an instant, and she moaned into his mouth, “You deserve pleasure, Zev. You deserve it all…want to see you smile…be happy…I’d do anything for you.” I mean, to be fair, I’ve already done a lot, starting with killing the goblins at the grove. Then killing more goblins. And then killing those Shadow Druids. And then we killed every goblin in the camp. That’s a lot of fucking goblins I’ve killed. Beatrice bit her lower lip as she watched him freeze in stunned silence. “I…I love you.” I love you, Zev. I killed so many fucking goblins. So many.

“I-I had no idea you felt so strongly, so deeply, towards me—”

Zev, we are not doing this right now.

The half-drow grabbed his face in her hands and silenced him with a passionate kiss that left him breathless. “Of course, I bloody do, Zev! I love you!” She laughed, holding him tightly against her. Relax, love. Relax. Rocking them gently, she kissed the base of a horn. “You make it so easy to love you, Zev. One look at you, and I just wanted to kiss you…” Smooches for my Zev! “Hold you…touch you…make you laugh…all of it.” One more smooch. She reluctantly released him and shifted to lay down. “Now, come here and let’s have a cuddle before I go, love.” She grinned and held out her long arms.

I swear the flames in his eyes got brighter.

“Yes, pulchra.” Zevlor drawled as he settled into her side. He reached for one of her hands and held it gently his, resting them both on her belly. “I love you, Bea darling. You know I’d do the same for you as well. Anything, my beloved. Anything.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I know, love.”

Anything, Zev.

Months later, when she and Zevlor were cuddling that same way in our own bed in our own home, Beatrice felt no fear or shame or embarrassment.

Only love.

[bladeweave]

Golden Generosity

Shadowheart & Wyll, 2k words

“I suppose it was too fanciful a notion to hope these would go away after it all ended,” Wyll sighs, looking up at his horns.

Shadowheart can’t say she agrees. With everything that has happened to all of them, it wouldn’t be so outside the realm of believability to think one last miracle was possible.

“Is there truly no way to be rid of them?” she asks.

“That’s what the contract said: they can’t be removed by any means short of divine intervention,” Wyll recites rotely, “But it’s not as if I’ve ingratiated myself with any gods, have I?

The phrase makes something inside of her come to attention.

Being granted Selûne’s favor had been exhilarating and frightening in equal measure. With so many years spent fruitlessly laboring away for approval she would never get from Shar, receiving such a gift from the Moonmaiden after not even a month in her service feels undeserving somehow. Shadowheart sometimes feels like she’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to come out and say she’s not worthy of such a blessing.

“It’s too bad we didn’t let Gale take the crown, then. He might have done you a favor,” she murmurs in reply, her mind elsewhere.

She had intended to save her opportunity to plead for Selûne’s help to use against the Netherbrain, hopefully turning the tide if things went poorly. Of course, it happened that she hadn’t even been asked to join the party for the final fight. She and Wyll had stood outside the High Hall, heads craned back to watch the effects of the skirmish happening so high above. They flinched at each crash of light and flash of noise with the worry that it spelled their friends’ defeat.

But everyone had come out the other side no worse for the wear, and then the question of what to do next came up.

“He’s a better friend to us mortal than in Elysium, Shadowheart,” he scolds her gently. Not willing to betray that infallible moral compass even for a joke, which is so very Wyll.

It’s not an idea she would even consider if she were still in the service of Shar; The Dark Lady would never be so kind.

But Selûne? She was once the patron of beauty, and Wyll is certainly a handsome man. He considers his additional features a flaw, which few others do, but if removing them made him feel more beautiful…

Selûne had also overseen purity and joy. Shadowheart has never met anyone remotely close to as pure of heart as the former warlock, and he’d certainly be overjoyed to have those infernal reminders gone.

“Wyll, can I try something?” she asks. He nods immediately, so trusting.

Shadowheart moves to kneel on his bed beside him, holding her hands over the front of his horns. She concentrates on how he used to look, on the idea of those horns disappearing and the ridges smoothing.

There’s a little cosmic twitch. Some minute recognition of her intentions that feels somehow attentive yet distant.

Wyll waits patiently until she pulls her hands away and sets them in her lap.

“Is something on your mind, Shadowheart?” he asks.

“Would you truly want to be rid of them completely? Horns, ridges, bumps, prongs and all?”

He makes an ugly face at her wording but replies, “Yes, of course! I’d get them gone in a heartbeat if I knew how.”

She takes a deep breath. “I think I could do it. Or at least, I’d like to try.” She lets a touch of magic out to emphasize her meaning, the glow of silver light emanating from her fingertips.

“You’ve healed me plenty of times before,” Wyll says, looking at her hand, “And it never fixed any of this.”

“This is something different. I’m going to pray for her intervention.” She doesn't need to lean hard on the ‘her’ to make it clear who she means.

“Why would Selûne do that for me?” he asks, all wide-eyed and wondering, “I’ve never done anything close to worshipping her in a way that would warrant her succor.”

“She would do it for me. I was granted a boon, the promise that she would intercede when I needed it most. But the time for that has come and gone, and I find that I’m unsure of what to do with it now.”

Wyll pushes away from her like he’s afraid she’ll do it at once, pressing his back against the headboard.

“You shouldn’t waste an opportunity like that on me! There’s so many more deserving people out there in much worse positions than I am,” he rushes out.

“I don’t really believe that, Wyll,” Shadowheart says plainly.

“You could…” he shakes his head like he’s trying to chase something away, “You could bring your memories back.”

Shadowheart sighs. “They’re not happy ones. It may be cowardly on my part, but I don’t want to remember the person I was then. Who I am now is who I’m proud to be.”

The fond, awed look on his face is exactly what she was trying to provoke.

“That’s not cowardice, Shadowheart. There’s so much strength in making that choice, in knowing how to forge a new path and find the new you,” Wyll says in that horribly earnest way of his.

She tips her head to the side. “So if I don’t want to use it for that, what could I? Travelling across the world in an instant instead of by foot? Smiting enemies that I no longer have? It’d be a waste of her gift, I think.”

She leans closer, not letting Wyll escape her gaze.

“But giving you back your humanity is something that only she could provide. If she grants me this– if she grants you this, it would be the best possible use of her power that I can imagine.”

“If you’re sure,” Wyll murmurs, “If you’re absolutely sure that you don’t want to keep it for yourself.”

“In all honesty, I was thinking of going to the temple tomorrow and asking her to… take it back. Such an offering feels like too much to be carrying around in my back pocket.” The only thing that had stopped her doing so today was the fear that doing so would make her seem ungrateful; she’s anything but. Taking a lighter tone, she adds, “So if you take me up on my proposal, you’ll save me the trip.”

“Okay,” Wyll accedes, “You can try. But there is a chance it won’t work, correct?”

“There’s a chance that something else will happen, but I don’t know what,” Shadowheart admits. Selûne’s magic is not like Shar’s. It’s not less complicated – in some ways is more straightforward, more even-keeled – but it’s a complex power nonetheless. She’s still getting used to it.

“Okay, I’m ready whenever you are,” Wyll blows out in a shaky breath that doesn’t hide the tentative excitement in his voice.

She raises her hands again and calls upon her goddess, concentrating on that little node of magic that’s been living under her heart.

Selûne’s presence meets hers in a surging tidal wave of influence. She is so acutely responsive in a way Shar never was that it nearly brings tears to Shadowheart’s eyes, but she dismisses that rush of emotion quickly. She’s on a mission.

Shadowheart focuses all her concentration on the image of Wyll as he was when they’d met, on supplicating her Lady’s kindness in returning him to his former glory.

There’s a wavering moment of consideration, of her goddess studying Wyll with cool regard. Then, there’s a rush of power like nothing else she’s ever felt before. Selûne’s grace pouring through her feels like all the force of a raging river with none of the harshness, like a straight shot of pure divinity suffusing her entire being.

Shadowheart steers her mind back to the thought of Wyll as he originally was, of his authentic self not marred by devilish magic. Selûne responds, threading so much arcane energy through Shadowheart’s veins that she’s humming with it. Her hands move as if of their own accord to skim the surface of Wyll’s horns. He makes a sound, says something that she must ignore to keep her control.

She thinks on his entire body being restored. She lets her goddess’s magic stream through her, using her as a conduit. She remembers his easy confidence and how much it hurt to see him lose it. She wishes for him to be whole and himself again. A final surge of Selûne’s grace pushes a gasp from her mouth before the connection drips down to nothing, like closing off a faucet. Despite the slow recession of it, she still feels breathless for the loss.

“Oh my Gods,” Wyll gasps.

Shadowheart doesn’t remember closing her eyes, but when she opens them she sees exactly what she’d been hoping for.

Wyll’s hands are roaming his face, feeling over his unmarred cheeks and smooth forehead as if in shock.

“It worked,” she says. He looks at her and tears well up in his eyes, the good one now pleasantly white and brown.

“Oh my Gods,” he says again as he pulls her into a tight embrace. It must be such a relief to him, not having to worry about racking her with his horns as he does so. He trembles under her hands, as if the elation he's feeling is more than he can handle.

“Everything’s alright? It all went right?” she asks hazily, still coming down off the buzz of so much magic.

He squeezes her shoulders as he chokes out a warbling, “I’ve never been better, Shadowheart. Oh, how am I ever going to repay you for this?”

“You don’t have to, Wyll. Invite me ‘round for tea every so often and we’ll call it even.”

“Consider it done.” He releases her from his grip to wipe hastily at his face. More tears stream down his cheeks to replace them. Shadowheart shifts back to lean on the footboard to give him some space to breathe.

“What’s going on over here? We heard a commotion,” Gale calls out as he and the rest turn the corner by Shadowheart’s bed. Upon seeing Wyll, he exclaims, “You look like… yourself again!”

“I am,” is all Wyll can say before another sob catches in his throat.

Gale goes to his side to hug him around the neck, leaning down to rest his head against Wyll’s.

“Hey, I remember that face!” Karlach says as she jogs over to join them. Wyll laughs at both her rejoinder and how she puts an arm around both men and shakes them.

“Was this your doing, Shadowheart?” Lae’zel asks.

“I asked Our Lady of Silver for her generosity in removing the marks of Wyll’s contract. It seems she was feeling generous,” Shadowheart says, intentionally too light. Her friends don’t all need to know she’s still reeling from the experience.

“Who knew our Shadowheart was so generous?” Astarion teases as he leans against the wall.

“Perhaps some of Wyll’s soft-heartedness has rubbed off on her,” Lae’zel says. Shadowheart pretends to swat at the gith even as she’s too far away to reach.

“I’m plenty tough enough for anything you want to throw at me. But I think we’ve all earned a little kindness after everything.”

“Yes, we definitely have,” Astarion agrees with an odd look on his face. When Karlach and Gale step away, he crouches by the bed, putting one arm around Wyll’s shoulders and briefly touching their cheeks together.

"Lae’zel, do you want to be the odd man out?” Shadowheart asks archly.

“You don’t have to hug me if you don’t want to,” Wyll says, as accommodating as ever.

Lae’zel rolls her eyes. She steps over Astarion, ignoring the vampire’s indignant outburst, and presses her forehead to Wyll’s.

Their eyes are closed as they breathe each other in.

"A celebration is in order," Lae'zel announces when she stands straight again.

"I can certainly get on board with that!" Wyll says. Everyone else agrees.

Shadowheart feels her spirit finally settle, leaving her oddly aware of her own body.

The experience was strange, she thinks, as she listens to the chatter of her friends planning what sounds like a raucous party, but entirely worth it. For her, for Wyll, for all of them.

[linka-from-captain-planet]

If you feel like it: Aylin and Isobel - together or apart, for A, K from the NSFW alphabet and K, Y from the SFW!

I always feel like talking about women!

NSFW A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

We all share the same vision. They're theeee sappy couple. Cuddles, kisses, probably some snacks, back rubs. They're not reinventing the wheel here but it's very cute and loving.

NSFW K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I typed out a really long paragraph explaining myself but ya know what? I'm just gonna come out and say it. Isobel literally steps on the Moonmaiden's daughter and Aylin sucks her toes. Because it's hot. But also see Y below, it's a little role reversal thingy too.

SFW K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

They don't strike me as hot and heavy kissers tbh, like they don't often make out, as much as they come off as a couple that would crawl into the other's skin if they could. They kiss constantly though - pecks on the lips, cheek, neck, ears, knuckles, shoulders.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Isobel can't stand being coddled or treated like she's made out of glass. As much as she loved her father growing up, her independent spirit often felt stifled by his doting, so it's the last thing she wants from a partner or friend. Aylin feels very strongly that while she's magnificent and should obviously be admired, she should not be worshipped - that's for her mother. She may be larger than life spiritually and in personality, but she's among the people to be among the people.

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

When appealing to Ketheric on the roof of Moonrise, he says:

“If Melodia could see all I've done, she'd know... she'd know her husband died long ago, with Isobel. Unlike Isobel, he could not be brought back. [...] I haven't forgotten her embrace. Melodia's. Nor Selûne's. But the Moonmaiden did not intervene when my life was dismantled piece by piece. And when I tried to buy it back, it cost me everything - everything. We are copper pieces in their belts. Tokens to be traded for scraps. You have beaten me, True Soul. But the gods beat me first."

I genuinely think Majexatli understands and for a moment they are truly eye to eye. Because like. Majexatli a worshiper of Malar more or less because Silvanus didn't intervene to save them when they were dying. And the feeling of "I already lost, long ago" is something that reminds me of Majexatli's reflection on Baldur's Gate:

What is Baldur’s Gate, really? So many at camp walks forward in homecoming, as though the city a person who’s warm embrace is synonymous with home. I alone walk knowing I am approaching corpse. It has been 30 years, by my count, since I last saw this place. By the time I left, the Baldurian child I was had already died, now they have long since decayed. The runaway child died too, as did the shy teenage druid, and the young adult with a home and a family. I am 4 lifetimes removed from this place. I am not returning home, this is not my birthplace, this is the place that signed my death certificate before I even left the womb, this is the the birthplace of the first domino that fell and lead to every nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

[faereun]

THE FEYWILD. ( arc. i, pre - baldur's gate )

you're still a young'un when your mother becomes cold. she stays locked up in her temple for days at a time, drowning herself in worship and prayer. your father is oft away at war, but he still is more present than she. he visits you and your sister whenever he can, ruffling your spring - soft hair and kissing your forehead, bringing you all manner of toys and trinkets. you and your elder sister find solace in one another; she comforts you when your mother leaves her temple to find you playing house instead of studying scripture, her cold hands   a  cruel  sting   across the pink of your summer - warm cheeks. you take the blame for her when your mother finds tomes of worship for a goddess other than her own, that which she believes to be the only true god. heretic, she cries, when you can take the fall for your sister no longer. heretic and dissenter, she calls your most beloved friend, as her hand cracks down like thunder 'pon her trembling visage. she's your older sister, but in the wake of your mother's booming rage and unkind hands, she's never looked smaller. if the nightsinger is the path to your salvation, you wonder, why is it the moonmaiden's magic that salves the stinging wounds left by your mother's rings?

still, you are nothing if not a diligent child. you keep your head down, lest provoked otherwise  —  you find that you cannot keep quiet when your mother's fury is directed at your sister, your dearest efru; your protector and closest companion. you practice your archery, ready yourself to heed   the  nightsinger's  call   should it ever come. should your mother ever call upon you to   spill blood   in her lady's name. your sister and you grow distant, for a time, though not of your own volition. efru buries herself in her studies, surviving off of scraps of selunite scripture and tomes their mother thought had been lost to time, buried within the recesses of their estate's library. she only wishes for your safety  —  every time she sees you suffering at your mother's hand in place of her, another scar is carved into her soul. she cannot exist with you as her   living  voodoo  doll   any longer. especially not when her rebellion has grown tenfold; mother ripping up the floorboards of her quarters to find tome upon tome, scroll upon scroll of selunite worship. she confiscates most everything, but it's pointless, anyways. she's nearly memorized everything she's ever read, and that which she hasn't is copied down in her journals thrice over.

still. as hard as things are at home, things are … okay. your father comes home to visit more often these days, off fighting whatever stupid war your mother seems to be raging in the depths of the feywild  —  spilling blood merely for the sake of spilling blood, you're sure. his smile is warm and worn, the skin around his eyes crinkling up like crows' feet when he sees you and your sister. for an archfey, he looks so old. too old. it would seem that the feywild agrees, for one day, when he comes home  —  well, perhaps it is that he doesn't come home at all. not really. you're with your sister, head in her lap as she murmurs hymns to you under her breath, when you both hear the solemn thundering of marching boots and a moaning, melancholy tune :    a  funeral  march   . you scramble to your feet, racing through the halls and down to the dining hall, where you know you'll find what you fear most; you're sure of it, a sick, sinking feeling that eats away at your stomach. your father, laid bare before your mother, with only the barest breath of life still on his lips. she does not weep. tears are already gathering in the corners of your eyes, dropping to your knees as the truth sinks in. the air is acrid with the stench of blood , a trail of it already drying brown against the white of the marble floors. 

your father is going to die. and there is nothing you'll be able to do about it. except  —  efru pulls out her staff, the mutterings of an incantation humming to life with ancient, glowing magic. she's a naturally gifted cleric, always has been, and a sigh of relief catches in your throat when your mother hisses a counterspell under her breath, flinging efru's staff from her hands, where it clatters against stone; it is a hollow, thudding sound. you feel your heart crack like glass.   'please. mother, this is ridiculous, i can save him—'   she begs, but to no avail. your mother spits at her, gathering your father up in her arms.   'silence. your craven, tainted magic will not touch him. not so long as i live and breath, and am the sole lady of this house,'   she hisses, every word dripping with venom. like efru is nothing but a gnat to be swatted from her line of sight, a spider to be crushed underneath the heel of her boot. efru moves to reach for her staff, hands trembling with desperation, but a booming wave of thunder knocks her prone, the carved willow rolling well out of reach. you feel it in the marrow of your bones when his heart stops beating. a gut - wrenching cry tears through your chest, ripping out from your throat and past bleeding lips, ones you'd been gnawing at so fervently you hadn't even noticed when you'd broken skin. 

slowly, verdant green curls are awash with an aching azure storm, streaks of white tickling the nape of your neck where sage flesh has gone death - blue, the freckles adorning your cheeks like speckles of moss suddenly blindingly white, like specks of snow across the bridge of your nose. it feels as though your heart has frozen over, succumbed to the harshest feywild winter you've ever known. you don't think you'll ever smile again.

[zorkaya-moved]

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

Current Name: "Zarina Hawke" or “Zarina” the Moonseeker Child name: Eira (no longer used) Previously “Adult” name: Eilistraee (no longer used) Age: Unknown due to the Astral Plane’s absence of time Spent time in Faerun: Around 250 years Class: Sorcerer Subclass: Lunar Sorcerer Race: Elf (?) Subrace: Astral Elf (?)  Current patron deity: Sehanine Moonbow Alignment: Neutral Evil Occupation: Owner of the White Night Tavern in Baldur's Gate (current), Informant (on hold), Leader of the "Frigid Moon" syndicate (on hold as she’s considered dead), Investor (on hold), Merchant (on hold), Mercenary (former), Entertainer (former), Researcher (former), Graveyard keeper (former). Background via game mechanics: Criminal Unique fact(s): Does not remember her 'true' name and goes by 'Zarina' because she chose that name for herself back in the Astral Plane, has been prophesied to become divinity with her talents, Elminster knows her personally and knows of her knowledge/powers all too well + knows she’s been to every dead gods’ isle in the Astral Plane, she possesses several legendary relics from gods’ isles in her hidden headquarters that you can get while doing her quest, she has always nerfed herself pre-tadpole and tadpole acts as her power’s limitation.

𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐒/𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄:

Researcher of the Dead Gods Keeper of Gods' Graveyard The Prophesied One Slaughterer of Her Kin Death’s Lullaby Multiverse Traveler Winter's Apathy Silver Mistress of Secrets Hiemal Maiden of Lament Lunar Maiden Mistress of Polar Nights The Woman Lady Silver Lily Lamenting Moonmaiden Owner of the White Night Tavern The Frigid Moon

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓:

An elf you encounter during your study of the Nautiloid. She is a charming, confident and undeniably assertive woman who knows what she wants and knows how to get it. It’s noticeable that she has a way with words but there hides something dangerous, something deeply disturbing and cold. 

Zhentarim upon hearing several words from her suddenly treat you with respect, alas with a tingle of worship when they glance at her smile. 

Pragmatic beyond simple words, she encourages you to make allies with people who’ll be useful to you in the future. Her powers are a mystery, but she refuses to say anything until you get closer. Can you find the truth in this blinding yet chill light of the moon? 

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃?

Zarina can be found on the crashed Nautiloid, specifically in the area where Tav and Shadowheart first encounter enemies. However, unlike the two companions, Zarina isn’t being attacked as she’s not engaging in battle under an invisibility spell.

After you kill all enemies, she will make herself seen and softly chuckle about how she’s seen Tav, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart on the ship (or depending on how your muse as Tav muse acted out on the ship). Zarina explains that she’s been in the hiding and watching their every move, impressed by their abilities; thus, seeking them out to see if they, too, are having an issue with connecting through tadpoles. 

Zarina explains she is interested in reaching Baldur’s Gate after dealing with the tadpole issue, offering to join the campaign of Tav for the future. If you recruit her, she is a powerful sorceress, but you may notice further down the line that her skill-set is rather unique for a sorcerer. Especially if your Tav is a wizard or a sorcerer themselves. 

𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:

“Zarina” was not born in Faerun nor was she any close to it. She was born to a wonderful family in the Astral Plane within a community of Astral Elves. They lived in seclusion on the isle hidden through illusion created by their goddess whom they worshiped: Sehanine Moonbow. A secluded collection of astral elves made it their path to study what there is and to pray to their goddess. Zarina was known as the brightest mind in the community, reaching heights not many expected even the most genius of their own. Her skills in sorcery were of prodigal status and her mind worked faster than those of fellow children. The elders of the community spoke proudly of the young girl, but they also noticed the lack of warmth in her eyes. Zarina spent many days away from other children closer to her in age, preferring books and choosing a company in those who could meet her intelligent mind face-to-face without making her sigh. Because of that, she was chastised for her arrogance and taught how to interact with others better. It helped because her younger brother was there to help her out get along with other kids. 

As years go by, the community changes their perception of Zarina quite a lot, letting her travel outside of their community as she showed great interest in research. Her status in the community was higher than ever, her smile gentle and calm as she would teach others whenever she came back from her travels. Her adult name was chosen and she’d gather far more knowledge than anyone ever expected. Only her family knew the truths to her core self, still never changing apathy remained deep inside her soul and it only turned to feelings around them - her family. Not the community, but those she deemed her family. Her father and her brothers. 

The days of her travels hid away the talents that started to bloom fully. Astral Plane allowed her to travel for long periods of time, gathering knowledge of other stories and other races living in the Astral Plane. Knowledge of war, of magic, of politics, of selling and buying, of praying and of breaking out of religion. During these travels, Zarina did not need to hide away who she was - ambitious, calm, perceptive, observant, and assertive. There was no need to pretend to be a gentle soul before others, her hand could kill as much as save. The sensation of power was growing and so did her magic. It allowed her to study the isles of dead gods. Each one of them, every single one of them. Her study of them was as in-depth as one could go, but how was she allowed to travel through them if they were guarded? That’s where her powers would come in. Illusions, disguises, stealth, and more. The divinity would still shine there and it would respond to her so tenderly, but the Astral Elf did not know at that point just how much was she changing over those years. Each isle granted more powers, more relics, more reasons to wonder just what else is out there. Countless diaries were hidden through magic, stored somewhere where only she could reach. To her, surviving on those isles was exciting, interesting, and fascinating. She never destroyed them, never took more than she needed, and never left a big enough mark to let others know she’s been there. However, the beings there would always remember her: the Keeper of Gods' Graveyard. 

The undead fell, the powerful entities responded to her, the enemies were dominated to let her do what she wished for. She was overwhelmed with power, but on her way home after studying the last isle, Zarina found herself disliking the way her talents prospered. The words spoken from the last isle’s habitants made her wonder if she was still herself or if she was something else. Concerned filled her mind as she started to notice how apathy and boredom would start to cloud her mind, making everything else seem dull and uninteresting. The passage of time didn’t exist in the Astral Plane like it did in other worlds. Her knowledge was passed to certain people, she met with those who will know the history of Faerun. Such as Elminster, exchanging legendary relics and discussing Dead Gods’ isles. They were sages who sought out knowledge, but Elminster did tell Zarina to return to her home before it’s too late for her. What did he mean by that? The power coursing through her veins was flowing, but it was slowly erasing something within her.  

And so, Zarina returned to her community… 

Before her arrival, let’s speak about those who do visit the remote community of the Astral Elves. Travelers, sages, mages. Those who do not bear ill will to their community outside of it are let in, the Moonbow’s blessing protects them endlessly through illusion. However, the words spoken by the travelers after they saw who the community considers their “beloved priestess” have shaken the community. They spoke about the fears, the blood, the winter’s apathy, the cold aura, the eyes of gold shining. They were tested on truth, they were tested and they were proven right… Even though they did not leave the community’s grounds for a way to get the information’s trustworthiness came from spells used. 

By the time Zarina arrived, there had also appeared a prophecy. A prophecy that made her family immediately find the silverette and drag her to their shared house, stating that they must leave their community. While Zarina was away, the prophecy spoke of something catastrophic happening and the traveler who arrived only made the elders go along with their terrible path… But was it really terrible from their perspective? They only wished to protect their goddess’ shine and their community’s safety. 

“Daughter of the Moon shall taint the image of brilliant and pure light, her sins will sink deeply into the future for she has tasted the power she’ll use for her personal gain. Her ambition has corrupted her and she lost her purity. The one with eyes of gold and hair of silver shall become the evil goddess, one who’ll lose her humanity and become the end to those who love her the most.”

The family pretended that they’ll be loyal to the decisions of the community, but they did not wish to see their kin killed. They loved her, they loved her more than anything and they knew that she was not going to turn into a monster as long as she has those she loves around them. While they are there, there will be warmth in her heart and she’ll be gentle. There will be fluffy snow instead of sharp icicles, but the community did not think so. The ‘traitors’ were found and they were dragged out. Zarina begged in tears to let them go and that she’ll do whatever they wished as long as they didn’t touch her family, she’ll leave but they did not have it. The traitors were deemed as those who were tainted and who were corrupted, dangerous to their community and to the future. If their deity gave them this prophecy, they did not wish to go against it. The evil must be exterminated, they must protect their community, their home, their families, their faith. 

And so, the blood of ‘traitors’ was spilled before the very golden eyes of one who was the center of the said prophecy. The Prophesied One did not remember exactly what happened after, but she remembered the stench of blood. Pools, pools of blood. It looked like a horror picture, a grotesque showcase of cruelty and evil. Every single elf was dead, their expressions frozen in fear, no kid and no elder survived. No cattle and no animals, nothing and no one. A weapon in her hands was light and she felt her lungs burn, but she felt empty. She felt nothing but emptiness. The apathy filling her mind and soul, she felt nothing when looking at those corpses and that bloodshed. The only moment she felt something when she found her family’s corpses, breaking down in tears. She tried to use the spell to speak with the dead, but they all told her one thing: go on, live, leave us. It was the last time when she was ever seen in her community, her home was destroyed and erased from reality with her spells. 

Her next target was the group of travelers who led to this outcome. And she found them, and she killed them. It didn’t make anything better. She still felt empty, hollow, void of any emotion. It was too late.

PART II: Travel to Faerun to be added. PART III: Life in Faerun to be added.

[slverblood]

“Tell me,” the cleric demanded angrily, “what do you think worshipers matter to the gods?” Kelemvor sighed. To the warrior, many things were worth arguing about—but religion was not one of them. Javia regarded Adon for a long time. Finally, her voice warm but condescending, she replied, “We’re like gold.” “Like gold,” Adon repeated, sensing that Javia’s meaning was not to be found on the surface of her words. “So we’re the coins in some godly purse?” Javia nodded. “Something like that. We are the wealth by which the gods measure their—” “By which they measure their status,” Adon interrupted.

this section and then Ketheric's

I wish it could be so. I do. But the Moonmaiden did not intervene when my life was dismantled piece by piece. And when I tried to buy it back, it cost me everything — everything. We are copper pieces in their belts. Tokens to be traded for scraps. You have beaten me, True Soul. But the gods beat me first.

and then this section

Though he disagreed with Javia, the scarred cleric was glad that she had wandered into camp. Despite the intensity of the argument, he felt more at peace with himself than he had in ages. Javia’s succinct opposition helped him see that he had been right to abandon Sune. Serving a goddess who did not care about her worshipers was not only foolish, it was wrong. Mankind had too many problems to waste its energy in the unproductive worship of vain deities.

and Gale's

The Outer Planes. This is where gods dwell. They observe us from afar where they make playthings of us. They would keep all of this from us — the power, the possibilities. They only want us to serve them. To pray to them. And ultimately to die for them. [...] I used to believe Mystra's forgiveness was worth dying for. But I was wrong. You showed me just how much I have to live for.

[optiwashere]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @amorficzna last week to share whatever I'm working on. I'll tag... @siyurikspakvariisis and @grousebrood if y'all have anything you're willing to share! Anyone that sees this and feels like doing it can consider themselves tagged by me.

I don't have a WIP I can share prose-wise, so instead here's a wall of Asheera character notes! My love and light, my weirdo who likes objectively bad poetry.

This is basically written to be notes for me, so it's like a behind the scenes more than anything. Also, the second chunk of this relates to a post I made last week, so CW: Character death.

Asheera's age as of BG3: 32 (33? She was 35 in old notes last I checked, but that was 14th century DR and for a 3.5e game so her age is kinda up in the air at this point)

Height: 6'7" (~201cm)

Weight: around 260lbs. (~118kg)

Eye color: Brown (described as ruddy brown, like darker red clay)

Hair color: Black with faint blue streaks (not dyed, a fun lil extra happenstance from her Gondian transition)

Dialogue snippets from Asheera when talking to others about Shadowheart:

To Zevlor. "Do you remember what it was like to take your oath? How you felt suddenly right, and whole, and everything made sense? Don't get all puppy eyes at me about it, but yeah... it's like that with her." (author's note: from Zevlor's perspective, Asheera is explaining a relationship in a way that finally makes sense to him. She should be speaking slowly, as if to savor the words.)

To Aylin. "Oh, she's stolen her fair share of things, perhaps killed a person or two in the name of her former Dark Lady, but aren't we all monsters in our own way? A little redemption never hurt." (author's note: Asheera is an Oath of Redemption paladin in canon but in-game I couldn't pick it; she is explaining to Aylin how their relationship ever started. Asheera is trying to joke, badly, and it doesn't really work on Aylin. Probably followed by Aylin trying to rationalize all her evil deeds as necessary to find Selûne.)

To Isobel. "Is she devout? Eh, that's a question for her. I know she keeps little trinkets of the Moonmaiden around. I've made some for her, too. But if you're expecting her to join you in prayer or something, I'd temper that." (author's note: Isobel is excited to hear about Shadowheart's Selûnite worship. She is decidedly less excited after this conversation. Asheera finds this hilarious, and Isobel probably chides her for it.)

To Rolan. "No, listen. She didn't steal your books. Why would she want them? It's all magic gobbledygook anyways, what use would she have for them?" [back and forth] "And? I love her, but I wouldn't just lie to your face about her. I've an oath to uphold." (author's note: someone stole books from Sorcerous Sundries, and Rolan is somehow convinced it was Shadowheart. He trusts Asheera, but still thinks she's lying.)

To Gale. "I can't believe you haven't had Shadowheart over for dinner yet, especially since I was already coming." [Gale explains he has, but Tara was unhappy afterwards and it's been a whole thing.] "Oh? Didn't Tara like her? And why didn't she tell me she was here?" [Gale, after rambling for a long while on the meal he cooked for them all, explains that Shadowheart called Tara a cat. Not once, but twice. The second was accidental.] "Oh. Oh, I see. Yeah, no. That makes sense. Gods, I can't wait to ask her about tressyms when I get home." (author's note: Asheera should be just about bouncing on her seat with this information. Razzing a supposed once-master Sharran spy for social faux pas is way too much fun.)

To Astarion. "I wish she'd join us for these chats. I know she misses you terribly, even if she won't admit it." [Astarion makes a snide remark about how he doesn't miss Shadowheart.] "Whatever you say, but I'll remember that next time you ask how she's doing." (author's note: apparently Astarion and Asheera hang out often? Again, Asheera is an Oath of Redemption paladin, so redeeming a vampire spawn is like crack for her.)

To Karlach, should they ever meet again. "OK, OK. You're crushing me." [Karlach finally lets go of Asheera after a bone-breaking hug.] "She's coming, the whole ritual exhausted her and she needed a rest while you two came back." [Karlach razzes Asheera hardcore about her "tiring out" Shadowheart.] "I did learn that magic circles require all sorts of interesting components..." (author's note: this would be whatever the fuck would lead to Karlach and Wyll being pulled back from the Hells to have a normal, happy existence on the Material Plane.)

To Wyll, same as Karlach. "I wouldn't worry about Shadowheart." [Wyll says something to the tune of stinking like the Hells because of all the time he's spent fighting alongside Karlach.] "Seriously, I don't think Selûne is going to demand she pester you about it. She's not Isobel Thorm. Let's go celebrate, you've nothing to fret over! Seriously." (author's note: essentially, Wyll is even more worried about losing himself similarly to how he talks about not feeling like he can be the heroic figure he wants to be as in-game. If it's from his POV, he doesn't believe Asheera. He goes with her to celebrate with Karlach and Shadowheart, but he should be distant and withdrawn.)

To Lae'zel, same as the last two. N/A (author's note: they wouldn't talk about Shadowheart. Asheera & Lae'zel are on respectful terms, not friendly ones. Pretty much they'd only talk about how beating Vlaakith's ass is going. Fuck the Lich-Queen.)

Age of death: 94; extended lifespan due to the way Gond "rebuilt" her for her divine transition/gender affirmation. (I headcanon Shadowheart as early fifties, so she would be early 110s when this happens)

Dialogue snippets from Shadowheart after Asheera passes. A lot of this is melodramatic because I love melodrama:

“I lived fifty years without her before, I can manage it again.” (author’s note: she is lying poorly to whoever she’s speaking to with this line. Anyone remotely insightful should see this.)

“Sixty good years. Sixty-one and eleven months we had, when some have a fraction of that or never find it whatsoever. If ever there was a woman that could make those years feel effortless, it was her. But now it’s only the road and the care of strangers and their pets and livestock for me. It’s a quiet life, and I like it.” (author’s note: Shadowheart seems to lose herself, fall into herself when she’s talking about how long they were together. Logical brain trying to hide her broken heart. Whoever is hearing this should realize that Shadowheart has those years practically memorized. Memories are so important to someone who didn't use to have them before. When she speaks about her current life, she does seem content if cold. It’s different, and she is alone, but she’s happy with doing good, simple work. Pressing the matter of loneliness will just make her annoyed/angry/generally upset.)

“It was the thirteenth day of Eleint, 1554 by... by Dale Reckoning when she left me. No, that’s wrong. She didn’t leave me. That was the day she was taken from me. I couldn’t move her until the nineteenth, and I slept almost not at all. She’s buried near the sea, by where we lived together. I thought she'd want to be by her parents, but no. She wanted what she wanted, and I couldn't deny her anything. Ever. I visit whenever I pass by. I'm due for a visit with her youngest brother.” (author’s note: Shadowheart is clearly broken by this, but she must soldier on regardless. Wistful. Listener/reader gets the sense that Shadowheart always "just so happens to" pass by. Whoever is hearing this dialogue cannot comfort her at all about this, and trying to do so will make her very angry. She's been through this for decades by this point, she can't go through it again.)

If I were to tag this like a fic, it would have the "Angst with Happy Ending" tag. Interpret that however you wish until I make a fic about this.

[ravingard]

midnight hangs heavy over the campsite, black as pitch in the absence of the moon. wyll still finds himself at awe of the difference in his sight, the greyscale shapes he can make out far more clearly now than he could before, so far from the fire's light it is . . . strange.

blade and armor put to rest in his tent ( the dagger tucked into his belt is a staple in the night, one can never be too careful, after all. and the blade of frontiers can hardly risk being caught unaware. ) wyll settles uninvited, careful to sit, putting @nerimoi on his bad side, it is better with some of their companions, so they know when his stare is purposeful.

“ is she kind to you ? ” in honesty, he need not ask, not when the answer is the same through every pantheon, every god. even the moonmaiden in all her goodness had turned her back on faerûn in their time of need, the lady of loss ? he supposes she must be different than the rest, if only because their pain may be prayer, worship at her altar. ( he can in some ways respect that, the honesty of her domain, though he knows little of the practice. but he may assume her followers know to expect their prayers to fall on deaf ears. )

“ or . . . i mean — ” hesitation is not the cause of questions restructure, wyll had meant what he asked, but knowing shadowheart - if one can ever truly know shadowheart - he may need to adjust for a more achievable answer.

“ — are you happy ? ”

[captainpriceswife]

Goblin Camp ; Maydra and two of her companions

(This is set after two big events; Astarion's first feed + Maydra reacting positively / defending him from the others and Gale's first romance scene, with the weave.)

Maydra wandered through the Goblin Camp, quietly taking note of everything she saw until her eyes graced a statue of her precious goddess, Selune. They had fought hard to defeat the goblins and now, the last little bit of regret was gone as she stared at the statue intently. Her stomach tightened, her eyes looking up towards the statue. She swallowed hard, feeling her heart rate pick up as she finally saw her lady's holy symbol upon the wall. She grasped her chest, feeling her heart ache as she saw how defiled the sanctuary was.

The first one to notice the change in her demeanor was Astarion, he had grown accustomed to the heartbeats of his traveling companions and now hers was racing like a deer trying to escape a hunter. He wasn't good at words, wasn't good at trying to comfort others. He stared at her for a moment before moving to touch Gale's shoulder, directing his attention. It was a small kindness, they both had to take care of each other somehow.

Gale looked towards Astarion, noticing he tilted his head nonchalantly towards Maydra. He looked at her and a pang struck his heart as he saw that tears were forming in her eyes. He gave the vampire a nod before carefully touching her shoulder, murmuring to her softly. "Are you okay?" They had been getting closer and he felt like she could lean upon him if she desired it.

Maydra leant against his touch ever so slightly "This was... a place of worship for my lady, the Moonmaiden. The goblins destroyed so much of it-" She started to cry in earnest, feeling Gale gently gather her into a hug. He soothed a hand over her back as she cried, looking towards Astarion who had taken up watch. "I can't believe they would do this..." She says softly, wrapping her arms more around Gale.

They're quiet for a moment before Gale clears his throat, "I will help you carry anything worth saving back to the camp, it doesn't matter how heavy. I'm sure Karlach would love to help too." Maydra looks at him, face flushed from her tears, "Thank you Gale, you're truly someone wonderful."

[faerunscursed]

Isobel found herself wondering just how much her beloved angel knew about her death? Had she known that Shar had sent her own family to have her killed in his failure to convert her? Judging by her appearance in the mirror before now, the scars of what Malus had done to her were long healed. So did she know truly how much Shar did to cause this? The pain she had suffered? Oh stars, she hoped she didn't and even the idea of telling her now hurt her soul.

"Shar created the cracks you see now, it was her actions that lead to my fathers change. She knew that by killing me, that he would fall into her arms, a man who was already faltering." Her hands balled up, curling and grasping onto the thin fabric of Aylin's gown. The urge to see what Aylin knew, what lies might have been told by Malus, was tempting. However, her heart could not bear it at this time, not after everything. "To know that he turned so quickly from the moonmaiden's light, it breaks my heart so. Perhaps what breaks my heart even more is knowing the pain you went through, as a result of my death. How could my father do this to you? Subject you to Shar's...." Isobel couldn't dare finish her thought, knowing how much Aylin had suffered.

Yet the brush of soft wings grounded her, made her feel relief in knowing that despite everything they were both here. Isobel didn't say a word, letting her beloved's word wash over her like a warm spring. The Moonmaiden's warmth had never left, even upon her resurrection, though sullied by the dark magic that was used. Now, however, with the source of the curse gone, she fully felt the warmth of the moonmaiden, basked in it. They were truly loved by their goddess. The only when she was directed to do so, did she look away from the sickening green, to beautiful silver and leaned into soft touches against her cheek.

"When awoke for the first time, I saw nothing but black, felt nothing. I experienced such a vivid retailing of my death. Our Moonmaidens embrace seemed so far away then but now I can feel it. I feel her love and yours." By now her makeup had run down her face from tears but she paid that no mind as she held her beloved closer, felt her embrace. "I will never let Shar harm you again, my love. Never shall she dare set eyes on you without feeling my wrath. Perhaps together we can overcome these taints, live with them. Though, I do not know how mine will affect me." Isobel once more ran a hand down one of her cracks, taking in her beauty. "I would heal these scars, but even with them you're beauty far surpasses the moons light."

Finally, Isobel could truly smile again, one only her angel could ever bring out. Isobel's silver-white iris followed Aylin's as the assimarmknelt down. Her angel had always worshipped her like this, just as she had done the same. "And you, too, my love, hold the keys to my heart." Isobel spoke softly as she brought both hands to rest upon her love's head. "Nay, you are my heart now. Revived my heart so when you freed me from my father's hold. I owe you everything, my love. Never do we have to be separated again."

Isobel softly caressed locks of hair before gently guiding Aylin's chin up to see her beauty once more. "I wish to show you my gratitude, if you would have me. To worship you as you do me."

Aylin found herself content to stay here. They would leave these cursed lands tomorrow, but for now, they would rest in moonrise towers one last time. Tomorrow, they would all pack up and leave these lands, setting out to Baldur's gate. In this tower, they were alone save for each other. What once used to be Isobel's room, a place she remembered so vividly within her dreams. Memories she clung to with desperation to never forget her lover; and now she no longer had to live in her dreams.

Softed feathered wings brushed up against Isobel's back, cradling her with such careful touches; not because she was fragile but because she valued every small minute of this to remember just how she felt. To lose someone so dear, Aylin could not even visualize the thought of losing her father. That wave of emotion caused Alyin to pull her up against her chest, one hand wrapped over her back and the other against her head. "I know, my love, I know," She whispered, wishing this kind of pain she could sweep away as easily as a cobweb in the corner.

"I do not doubt that for a second. Her grudge against Selune is greater than any mountain or sea. She would do anything to see something of her sister's brought to ruin. All she needed was cracks in the fold, and thus came past what happened," Aylin agreed as she closed her eyes. A situation that she should have stopped. How did she not see the signs, not feel the darkness? How did she miss everything so blatantly dancing in front of her eyes? *Forgive me, Mother,* Aylin thought within her mind, still holding onto all the blame that Shar had convinced her of. The mention of Isobel's death caused Aylin to hold her closer as she tightened her eyes. *I failed you too, I'm sorry* yet another thought brisked through her thoughts, unable to take that guilt off her shoulders.

Her eyes shot open when Isobel tugged slightly away from her as if she was a curse to behold. "My dear moon blossom, your taint does not define you. Even now, I know my mother embraces you still, embraces us. Do you not feel it, the power that still runs in your veins, the moon maiden's blessing upon you? Your curse does not define your beauty, and it was not of your choosing. Look at me," Aylin spoke as she brushed her hand gently against Isobel's cheek, and touched her neck where that odd green veins lingered. "Shar's cursed gold across my skin, her blades, her justiciars, I too, carry such a taint. That will never cause me to look away, though, for you are my life. My world. My everything," Aylin whispered, as she took her hands and lowered down onto her knees.

Silver blue eyes turned upward and then pulled her hands against her lips. "I will never abandon you, and I will always want you. Even if we can not find a curse for this taint, you are still my Isobel, my sweet blossom of the moon, blessed beyond all to compare. Even if death, you had my heart, and now, you hold it still," Aylin lowered her head and pressed it up against her abdomen, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I am your sword and shield, milady, from this moment on, I will never leave your side,"

[svartalfhild]

Hi there!! I was on google looking for why Selune has 7 stars in her symbol. Your art popped up along with a cool quote. I was wondering if that’s canonical prayer/saying as to why she has 7 stars or if you knew why she has 7 stars. Or even if you could point me in that direction. I’m playing a paladin who chose Selune and I’m doing research on the moonmaiden. My characters name is Auguri which means wishes in Italian. And what do you wish upon? Lol. Thanks. Hope your day is going well!! :)

Oh hi!  Sadly, that little poem is entirely of my own making and has little to do with canon lore.  The art you found is a group of original characters I made as part of the epilogue of the Rasaad romance from the Baldur’s Gate games.  Rasaad is a Sun Soul Monk who worships Selûne and if you romance him, he has seven kids with your character and then later you’re both murdered by servants of Shar.  I thought it was awfully interesting that there are seven stars in Selûne’s symbol, and this worshiper of hers has seven kids, so I designed these characters who are those children, grown into a squad of zealots who exist to thwart Shar.

To my knowledge, there is no explicit canonical explanation for why Selûne’s symbol has seven stars. However.  Selûne does have seven planetar servants known as the Shards, and the stars in the symbol could be a reference to them.  That’s my best guess, anyway.

Your character sounds like she’ll be fun!  That’s a lovely name.

I honestly don’t wish upon much of anything these days, but that’s more of a reflection of my neuroses than we have time to get into, lol.

But I’m happy to help!  And I hope you’re day is going well too!

Here’s some further reading about Selûne that you might find useful, if you haven’t already found these pages:

Selûne

The Church of Selûne

The Shards