- Pronouns
- She/Her
Right. Also might be able to finagle crusader maneuvers through that… I think it was divine marshal? Or it might have been ranger… not sure. There's also divine sorcerer which would get you a bunch of sorcerer only spells…
Gods Playing Dice (A 3.5 Archivist in Baldur's Gate 3)
- Thread starter Blinktwice13
- Start date
Unfortunately, the only way to get martial maneuvers in 3.5e was be a martial class (crusader, swordsage, warblade), take a martial prestige class, or take the maneuver feat, martial study.
deadcrystal
Slaaneshi Cultist
- Location
- The Warp
I almost don't really want Torius to effect things much here, as the resolution of that plotline is fairly pitch perfect as it is. Also hoping Sceleritas only shows up when Creccoth is alone, as he's too fun to get Torius'd. Also I'm not sure what he could even do to one of those things. The Butlers seem to be a fairly unique creation of deeply unclear power and nature.
Kagha mostly seems the type of person whose insecurity makes her easy to manipulate.
Bad experience with Lolth worshippers maybe? Not to worry, we've plenty of horrible spiders upcoming.
Non-Sharrans think Shar is a horrible deity who loves making people miserable. Sharran Initiates understand there is a higher purpose behind the suffering. Those initiated into Shar's higher mysteries understand the nature of that higher purpose, which is that Shar really loves making people miserable for her own edification.
Halsin at least seemed to manage his circle pretty well when he was around, and he has the correct priorities for a Druid regarding people and the shadow-cursed lands.
Should be 'effects' in this instance.
I expect Torius will be relieved to meet our dearest Chief Harper.
Yeah, probably the best way to get Astarion disinterested in some bloodshed is for him to understand it would result in the fun archivist instead brooding and moping in the most boring way possible. Nothing more dull than moral angst.
Truly you have captured Astarion's voice perfectly.
Wonder what they'll do with that artifact. Makes a nice upgrade for Shadowheart in the short term, but then gets replaced by either spear. Should probably find a temple to Lathander in Baldur's Gate and turn it over.
It is funny that Wyll's 'Dark Reveal' about his past is that he was a picture perfect self-sacrificing hero who is willing to be pragmatic and appear the villain if necessary, rather than someone who insists on performing the 'role' of the hero instead. Pretty sure he'd win quite the credit with Torius for his own involvement with Tiamat.
It's funny because whilst he plays gung-ho up until the meeting, you kind of have to push him to actually go through with it. His understanding of the contract says the action is safe, but he can tell something is wrong and gets very hesitant.
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So this is a needle I'm going to have to thread carefully. Torius has to have some way to mimic what Withers did at the climax of that plotline, which can honestly boil down to him asking his god for something for the first time.
Also, Torius handles some waking aspects but the main thing keeping Creccoth's heritage in check at night is Tootsie. To paraphrase Sir Pratchett: "Butlers have risen from the dead, the grave and the crypt, but never managed it from the badger."
Sceleritas may well have a new set of nightmares, and Tootsie have her arch-foe for the entirety of the fic.
That's kind of the whole thing, really. The letter showed up after Halsin went out, and Olodan played her like a flute.
Worse. Netherese experiments. A certain Drider will be Torius'd in short order.
Torius, as an Archivist, draws a little on almost all gods. The spells he picked up from Sharrans are Not Nice. He's intimately aware of Shar's nature, and is soft-pedaling around Shadowheart. He hasn't outright lied to her, but he's also let on that he knows she's not the usual kind of person to worship Shar.
Oh, he's a good guy and good at handling other people. But in terms of raw power he is not CR 12 or higher. A 'proper' archdruid would have used Earthquake, Fire Storm, or Frostfell to one-shot the entire camp on contact in Torius' humble opinion. (Torius' humble opinions are often similar in shape and color to war crimes. They should be scrutinized.)
Fixed, thanks!
Especially since the tadpole-in-a-jar won't cause that entire conflict in the first place. Mind Blank for the win! Which... has connotations for getting into Moonrise...
Torius: So my luck with men was bad.
Astarion: Worse than drunk-summoning Graz'zt?
Torius: I tried to hit on an avatar of Lathander once and he pat me on the head. I was fifteen.
Astarion: You what.
Torius: I didn't know it was him! Amaunator never looked that good in statues!
I wonder if our wonderful archivist will manage to free Minthara from the Absolute's mine w or not
@Blinktwice13 considering your wide range of stuff that you gave torius does he also have acess to the vile and exalted books ? And what are new spells that will surprise him because a worshiper only created these a few decades or centuries ago.
After all stuff like bigbys and mordenkainen was only made after he left toril ?
After all stuff like bigbys and mordenkainen was only made after he left toril ?
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
He does have access to both books, but he won't use Exalted or Corrupt spells because of their hardline physical costs and changes to alignment. He went out of his way not to pick them up, in fact.
At least one character will use Toll the Dead, and learning it will be his new driving force for like a chapter or something.
For the examples given, if he can find divine scrolls of those kinds of spells, he's going to scribe and spam them for novelty.
Calantyr
Cyber Bard
- Location
- United Kingdom
This has been fantastic. I have my own Pathfinder fanfic, so I love the idea of overpowered RPG mechanics in a story. Your writing has also been fantastic, apart from a bit of initial confusion each time you change the POV.
Very much looking forward to more.
Very much looking forward to more.
Doesnt even have to be godly inspired. I mean regualr spiders give folks arachnaphobia as it is. Can you imagine what giant versions would do? Or freaking PHASE SPIDERS. GAH...those things wig me out.
Tome Five: Flame and Frost
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Happy Birthday to me. A bit longer than my planned fare for this fic (am not aiming for 10k+ chapters on this, thankyouverymuch). Time to start righting wrongs and being OP! Out of combat! ...mostly. Does it count as combat if it involves alpha striking an entire 'I circled this area on a map'? Chapter 7 was completed last night and I am starting Chapter 8 as I took the day For Me.
Astarion
"You know, somehow hearing that one of the most sadistic devils in Hell is keeping an eye on us doesn't fill me with joy."
Torius doesn't meet your eye, frowning into the middle distance. You can see the wheels in his mind turning, rusty from lack of use.
Two thousand years may be your senior, but it is clear for all his life before the 'Archives', he was still young when he went in. Two thousand years of paperwork was hardly a life lived - his experience was limited.
Of course, you could hardly talk. Thirty-nine, and then your death, bite, and rebirth. A babe by the standards of your… former people. And then two centuries of bowing, scraping, and anguish. Of suffering beneath your master's weathervane mood, of seduction and hands drifting across a body you could no longer control. Of touch and taste and every sense fouled by so-called 'intimacy'.
So on the one hand: the man before you was clearly the most powerful in the group by leaps and bounds. He delivered clean, undeniable death with two words and a gesture. He shook a device of his own creation, and suddenly you were out of immediate danger from the parasite in your head. He pieced together your nature neatly, not that you had much experience hiding it in prolonged company,
And then immediately after exposing you, claimed he was 'working on something' to keep you fed. With his own blood.
Utter codswallop, but he also all but vouched for your trustworthiness. For all that the rest watched you with a little more wariness, you were alive- and safe. For the moment.
"Glasya's got a definite angle. Always does. Hm… if this 'infection' is wide-spread, there's a source. If it can be used to exert control, there's a controller." Torius nods to himself, unconsciously leaning towards you.
You hardly complained about being made his minder. It was one more tool in your arsenal, one more way to keep ahead. A touch here, a bit of playfulness there. Never pushing too hard, but just enough.
And he ate it up. Which made perfect sense, really. Two thousand years with only his mad badger for company? Any sort of companionship would be welcome.
And if his tale of invoking Graz'zt of all beings for intimacy was true, then he certainly didn't mind the company of men.
"And given illithids lack apostolic souls - souls that can be used by the gods and devils of Toril - then there's no reason for her to back this scheme. There's nothing for her there. Even the control it would offer would pale compared to the loss of souls in circulation." Torius held up a fist and flexed his fingers.
"Right, right. So that tells us nothin'." Tootsie gives her master a disgruntled look.
You huff in irritation, shaking out your shoulders. "Which leaves us right where we started."
Torius spins on his heel, and starts after your illustrious leader and the rest. The dragonborn speaks to the family of the girl he saved with a few well-placed words and idle gestures.
"Not quite. She's waiting for her moment, and it's not here yet. She showed herself because she knew I'd recognize her. This way it won't be a surprise, and I'll be more likely to give her a favorable introduction." Torius glances at you. "Glasya's gifts are poison. She deals fairly with me because we're equals, I'm useful, and there is a very slight chance she likes me. Insomuch as she likes anyone, I guess."
You bristle at the implication. "Yes, yes. You are the only way we're getting these worms out of our heads, and you only have our best interests in mind. I'm not an infant, mother. I know better than to deal with the daughter of the God of Hell."
Torius flinches. "That's not what I meant," he offers in a wounded tone. "I just… she's convincing, all right? I… I knew people who let their guard down because of how I dealt with her in the past. Ones who were as strong as me, ones who were brilliant. I wouldn't be surprised if they were coins or Lemures by now." He looks down even as the two of you walk. "None of them were 'friends'. She was always careful to target my own rivals or enemies. I don't know what that'll mean for you lot. I just… don't want you to get hurt."
'Because of me' was unsaid.
…he looks so very young in that instant. A bit of insight niggles at the back of your brain, something that piques your curiosity. "Why, then, did you try for Graz'zt as a partner? Surely you weren't deluded enough to think a demon of his caliber was any safer?"
Tootsie barks with laughter, only for Torius' shoulders to raise to his ears and him to attempt to draw his head into his body like a turtle. "Accident."
"What?" You stop walking, eyes wide in shock.
"I meant for an incubus, but the spell I found was for a 'dark man of devastating beauty'. That was a fight for my life, and I was glad I kept my armor and whatnot on. An Incubus is one thing - it would be dangerous, but there was a very solid chance I'd walk away from it. A Demon Lord? That was bad on all counts." Torius sighs, visibly frustrated. "And I still didn't get laid. Then I went in the Archives of Doom and Dusk, time practically stopped-"
"Wait. How old are you?"
"Mmmm… about twenty? I was always fairly gifted in digging up obscure lore, then Lord Jergal made me his Chosen - gave me all sorts of scrolls hidden from the world. And then he added the ability to recall anything I've read with perfect recall, which compounded the whole thing." Torius hefted a tome. "These are a formality, in fact. Much of my time was spent bending time itself alongside others to craft more and more wonders."
Twenty. Barely out of boyhood, and then his life destroyed.
You peer at the human, taking in his features. So much life unlived, and then placed into bondage to an elder immortal.
For a brief, shining moment of self-awareness you consider that it is not so different in broad terms to your own experience. Of course, there is a large gap between periodic flensing and the tedium of paperwork.
Torius perks up. "Oh, by the way- I snuck into my demiplane after everyone was asleep."
What.
He brandishes a small canteen at you, smiling brightly. "Time flows as I order and- well. Here. Once I reverse-engineered Blood to Water into turning Water to Blood, combining it with the usual craft of a Decanter of Endless Water was child's play. The hard part was binding it so it can only be used for consumption. On the off chance you get fleeced by someone good enough to get past the return spells, I'd rather not open myself up to blood curse."
You stare at the small bottle, confused. Taking it, you open the top with a twist of the wrist. The scent of copper hits your nose, and instinct takes over.
You toss it back, swallowing its meager contents. And swallowing. And swallowing.
Smooth, almost creamy, and so, so sweet. It is as though someone blended chocolate and cream into a liqueur, and it is utterly decadent. The whimper is dragged out of you as you force your lips from the bottle's mouth, and your chest heaves as you stare him down.
Energy rushes through you, your limbs filled with strength and an almost-unnoticed haze falls from your mind. For the first time in almost two hundred years, you feel happy.
The notes of the blood in the bottle match perfectly to the subtle scents wafting from the archivist, and you realize: he wasn't lying at all.
With dawning horror, you understand. This is not a master sage, plotting and planning. This isn't even an ambitious youth, climbing ever higher.
This naive boy is a prodigy, utterly unworldly and dangerous because of a higher-than-normal level of maturity and perception. He is not wise, and his flights of temper are entirely natural.
And he is alone, without a single companion from his time- save for his badger and the Lady of Malbolge.
He has taken the role of caretaker for the group, when of the lot of you he may well need such observation the most.
He's lonely. He hides it, but he is sad. He looks at a vampire and a madman and an explosive and a Gith and the world's most suspicious cleric with fondness, and dear sweet hells he's imprinted on you all.
He's Sebastian, that nameless boy you fled (and suffered for), and each and every one of your most regrettable conquests rolled into one almighty package.
He is Toril's most murderous duckling and he has decided that you have a place in his heart.
This realization is enough for you to experience a brief thrill when Creccoth approaches, because you do not have the emotional wherewithal to contend with it.
Pocketing the bottle, you turn to him with a wide smile. "So?"
"We're going to stock up, then head out." He rolls his shoulders. "Apparently I helped a bard complete a song?" The dragonborn shrugs, but his expression shows his unease.
It only lasts until Tootsie brushes his leg, and that alone is cause for concern. But not for you, no- you are going to take this bottle, and tonight you shall drink your cares away and drown the faces you condemned to your master's hold with one new one.
And hope that your little plan, two-pronged as it is, will not result in one or more new regrets to join them.
____________________________________________________________________________
The Grove shrank into the distance behind us, and I couldn't help but hum a happy tune.
Goblins to crush, a possible devil to investigate, a swamp to explore, and yet another neat magical item under my belt. Or in this case, stuck in Astarion's pocket.
Glasya was up to her usual tricks, but that at least was normal. But if she's an archduchess, how does she have the time? Surely managing a circle of Baator is a full-time obligation? …which might explain why she got the job. Asmodeus may have wanted her out of his hair.
The devil who became a god when magic died a third time. Doom and Dusk. As though he wasn't scary enough before.
Well, on the bright side Creccoth was in the lead and his new robe was highly flattering to his back, thighs, and ah- assets. Once you got used to the scales and head-shape, he was a very handsome hominid. And cunning, and kind, and-
"Ek!" I flinched at Tootsie's snap.
She gave me a flat look. Glanced at Creccoth, and back. "Don'."
I gave her an innocent stare. "Me?"
"Yes, you, ye hormonal brat. I was wondering when you'd get back to business." Tootsie scowled. Hardly different from her usual glower, but I had the experience to tell. "Four years of watching you in action was more than enough to tell what ye get up to, left to your devices."
"Ah, a young man's passions burn brightest." Wyll nodded 'wisely'. "Careful they do not grow too hot, my good sir." He smiled, then tilted his head. His false eye seemed to glint in the sunlight. "So… Netheril?"
I grimaced. "Yeah. I don't know the exact date, but it could be anywhere from weeks to months or even a few years since I went into the Archives before it…" I trailed off as the scent of something coppery hit my nose. Blood.
I raised my head and looked around just as Creccoth raised his fist to call a halt. Just in time for me to hear a low growl.
I peeked around, and sighed.
A sandy-furred dog snarled, standing over a corpse. No blood on him, so definitely not the cause of the human's death.
"Move along, stranger. Quietly."
"He wants us to give him and his friend space," I translated.
Creccoth peered back at me, then jerked his chin.
I moved forward, ignoring Lae'zel's bristling.
"Hullo, pup. I'm Torius, who're you?" I made sure to keep my hands down and my posture unthreatening. I also made sure not to open my mouth too wide- showing teeth would not help here.
(Animals make so much more sense than people, most days.)
"...Scratch. My friend calls me Scratch. He's hurt, and needs rest."
I peered at him. Recently dead. Too long for Revivify, but… "I'm trained in healing. May I?"
"I'm watching. Closely." Scratch backed up, head lowered.
"What's the point? The man is clearly dead." Lae'zel's growl is low, irritated.
I heard an intake of breath as I knelt, and slowly turned my head. "What's the point in anything? It all turns to dust in the end."
Lae'zel blinked, and Gale shut his mouth- both clearly taken aback.
"Everything fades, so we treasure the present until it's past. Nothing has meaning, so we ascribe it in order to create. There's no inherent good or evil in the world. No real morality. Justice, mercy. There's no measure of real 'rightness' in the world. So we have to make it." I looked down at the still-cooling corpse. "The role of the gods is to judge. The role of the living is to define. That's my faith."
I could feel Shadowheart's sudden and intense unease with my explanation like a spark muffled in the dark, but she remained silent.
I reached out to the corpse with my senses, with what meager offerings my God gave me- and exhaled.
Gomwick died screaming. An impression of teeth and mad glee, overlaid with his own terror. Wherever he was, his prayers led him. It was visibly apparent his death was not gentle, but neither was it quick. His soul was in no hurry to return.
"Nothing I can do, pup. He's gone, and it was hard enough that he doesn't want to come back."
Scratch tilted his head, confused. "What does that mean?"
Creccoth knelt next to me. "Doesn't 'want' to come back?" His gaze pierced me through.
"Any revival has three requirements: time, state, and desire. The further out from time of death, the stronger the spell required. Outside of the ultimate spell, the body needs to be intact- at least in terms of structure. Burned, frozen, slashed- so long as it has most of the organs and the limbs, it's doable. Lastly, you cannot bring back the unwilling." I looked at Scratch. "What did this, Scratch?"
His ears lowered with his head, and his whine overlapped his words. "I… I don't know. They were tall, furry, cackling- two-legs, but not. Teeth and claws and red."
"Gnolls," Tootsie growled, tromping up. "Small wonder. If those tieflings are any indication, no average wanderer's gonna have a prayer against that."
"Well that's unfortunate. Oh well! There was an attempt, on we go!" Astarion chirped with forced cheer.
Creccoth eyed me, then offered Scratch his hand. The dog gave a confused whine. "Ask if he'll take my scent. If he wants to meet us at camp."
"He wants you to know him, if… if you need a place to stay." Poor pup.
Scratch leaned in, nose flaring. "I think he's sleeping, but… you sound like you know what you're talking about. If it comes to it, I'll find you."
I gave him a close-lipped smile. "Take care, Scratch. Don't let yourself get hurt." I stood, and took a deep breath. "So." I turned to the others.
Wyll gave me a long look.
"I think I'm going on a hyena hunt." I looked over the horizon. I could feel it on the wind- Yeenoghu's taint. I could almost pinpoint it. "Tootsie, stay with them. If you run into any goblins… unleash everything you have. We're not around anyone we need to spare." I looked at Creccoth. "So long as we all stay on the same plane, the Mind-Shielder will function. I'll rejoin you in a few hours."
I… needed to process. The Grove, this world, these people… I needed… I needed…
I needed to vent. Gnolls were rabid by design. Slaughtering them was morally neutral at worst.
"Go with care, Torius." Wyll frowned. "We'll stay in the nearby village until your return."
"Though don't take too long- I'm concerned about what Volo got up to at the Goblin Camp," Gale warned.
I blinked. "...whomst?"
Shadowheart just shrugged at me.
"A scholar I spoke with while you dealt with Nettie," Gale explained. "He's going to see about this new god the Goblins are worshiping- the Absolute."
A drow infested with a parasite, driven aboveground to attack an archdruid. Goblins moving from Maglubiyet to a mystery cult. Mind-Flayers infecting people with tadpoles to control rather than convert. It had to be connected.
I nodded. "I'll be quick."
It was just gnolls. How bad could it be?
____________________________________________________________________________
Creccoth
You collapse on your behind, poison spattering the ground near you. Raising your hand, you snarl and let the bolt of flame fly.
The web beneath the massive spider turns to ash with a touch, and she falls- ceasing to move.
"Let's not ever do that again,' Astarion snarls. "We said we'd stay put, didn't we?"
You do not respond, standing to wake Gale from his near-death stupor.
"Ah, yes! Ignored again! 'Hm! Perhaps we should keep to the main village! The goblins are too scared to attack thanks to the badger, maybe we should take advantage!'" Astarion stalks after you, ranting.
You glance back at Astarion. "I'm not disagreeing with you. I'm getting us together to rejoin the others."
Lae'zel doesn't speak, merely narrows her eyes at Astarion.
Gale gasps and struggles to his feet. "Oh. Oh it hurts." He wheezes, leaning heavily on your shoulder.
Astarion turns on his heel and pauses. "...hm. There might be a trinket or two to make this utter cock-up worthwhile." Quickly, he scales down a nearby rock face to the floor below, nimbly avoiding the pit in the center of the pillars. He scrambles for a faint purple glow, and puts it in his pack. He sprints past the corpse of the spider, snatching what seems to be a stretch of fabric, and clambers back up. "Here we are! So, this robe seems of use to those who use poisons- anyone?"
You shake your head quietly, then look at Gale's hunched over form.
Astarion shrugs. "Ah, well. It should pad our finances then. Here. I thought of you." With a light smile, he hands you a large purple gem.
You observe it for a long moment, and recall the tome in your pack. It might fit in there. However, you decide to obtain some medical attention for Gale before things take a turn for the worse. And by worse, you think, you mean explosive.
"Here." You hand over a pair of potion vials, and Gale tosses them back gratefully. His skin regains some color, and his breathing steadies.
"Oh, that's better." Gale sighs. "I'd love a proper rest, though."
"Once we've returned to the surface, we shall send the badger to retrieve her owner." Lae'zel scoffs. "This was a shameful display."
"Well! It's not as though we didn't: intimidate goblins, infiltrate a necromancer's crypt and laboratory, trick some ogres into abandoning their current employment- have I missed anything?" Astarion taps his lip in thought. "Oh, right! Slaughter some goblins, a warg, and two bugbears!"
"Two?" You only recall the one.
Astarion smirks. "Wyll mentioned taking care of one that made it over the walls." His smirk falls. "My point is, today has been very busy. And us without our precious archivist to patch our wounds or smite our enemies!"
"We do not need him for such. All we accomplished, we did on our own. He can mend our wounds and keep the ghaik parasites at bay, but we are sufficiently adept at carnage." Lae'zel gives you a long, considering look. "That last strike was intelligently done. It ended the fight quickly and cleanly."
You make your way out of the web-pits and up through the smithy. The book and gem weigh in your pack, and you wonder what lore might be within.
Astarion was curious, and as a vampire spawn he might have some use for the strange book. As a wizard, Gale could make use of what might lie within as well. And, of course, it may well bolster your own arcane talents.
Though you wonder… what would Torius make of it? The little touches that cleared your head were one thing, but it is transparent that he doesn't shy away from physical contact.
You aren't blind. The man is infatuated with you. Perhaps he is also drawn to Astarion, but you've noticed his eyes stray to you the most of your companions. You cannot quite say why.
"You're quiet. What's on your mind?" Astarion's lilt pierces the haze of your errant thoughts. The vampire is talented enough at misdirection, which is why you set him on Torius in the first place. Also quite likely a manipulator.
"Just thinking. None of us know the others very much." You look back.
"Hm. Well, I am friends with a rather intellectual tressym by the name of Tara. Quite the opinionated lady, and how I survived since my… acquisition." Gale motions to his chest. "Before, I had to feed on the Weave stored in magical items. For now, this… orb seems quiescent." His face softens. "She never did give up on me, even when I was tempted to give up on myself."
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you didn't."
Gale gives you a wan smile, no less honest for its exhaustion. "And that is heartening to hear, my good sir."
"Well that's sweet. I'm afraid I have nothing so touchy-feely in my past. I met my end at the hands of a band of ruffians, was offered eternity by a vampire lord, and in the absence of other options I took it. Then I found out just how long 'eternity' could be." Astarion's smile seems fixed. False. His eyes are dark. "Oh, sometimes he'd torture us and sometimes we'd torture ourselves. Whatever Cazador's weathervane mood dictated."
You recall what you know of vampire spawn. "You were his slave, then."
"Slave? Oh no. A slave can rebel, can fight. They have some command over their body. A vampire spawn has none of that. I fed on rats and bugs, just to keep the hunger at bay. And every night, he'd send me out to bring pretty things home to feed on." Astarion spread his hands. "And now you know my former lot in life. One I am all too glad to leave behind me, thanks first to our unwelcome visitors and now to our resident blast from the past." His smile turns sly. "He's rather sweet, isn't he? Utterly harmless, unless you decide to actively be an utter ass whilst in striking range."
"Chk. He has power, but keeps it banked. Though… you seem to have that influence over him." Lae'zel peers at you. "I trained in Creche K'liir, located in what you know as 'Selune's Tears'. I have seen creatures which you could not countenance, soared among the stars. Your moss-covered pebble is but a fragment floating through space. It is nothing compared to the glories of the Astral."
You look downwards, then back at them. "As I said before, my memories are gone. I believe Torius described it as 'catastrophic brain damage'."
"Well, in spite of such injury you seem quite functional," Gale offers in a solicitous tone. You know he means well, but your frown is reflexive.
"I'll consider it a minor miracle. Or perhaps a bit of luck." You breathe deeply. "I also… have compulsions. An urge to slaughter, to kill. The weaker and more harmless the target, the better." You chance a look at your companions.
"Mm, well. I have a casual relationship with murder, but-"
"No." You swipe your hand through the air, cutting Astarion off.
He blinks in surprise.
"I can resist it, but if I do not, if I give the slightest indulgence to a moment of fantasy- you said a vampire spawn is less than a slave. That their very body betrays. That is the closest I can compare, but the bastard is not without but inside my own head. And according to Torius, it is utterly unrelated to our tadpoles."
Astarion's expression goes blank. "Ah. And he and Tootsie have been keeping that at bay, then."
"They help," you acknowledge.
"And for that, I am glad. Such is a heavy burden; it would not do to bear it alone." Gale places a friendly hand on your shoulder. "I am grateful for your candor, and despite our admittedly quite brief acquaintance, proud of your fortitude."
"To hold such impulses at bay, yet be effective in combat… a surprising amount of strength and will for an istik. I begin to see why the ancient child holds you in regard."
…what?
"Ah, I wondered if I was the only one who noticed. Did you know, he was only twenty years of age? Meaning most all his adventures took place at least in his teenage years. And then he went into a divine domain on the Fugue Plane- and the rest is history." Astarion's smile is unpleasant, teeth fully on display. "Quite literally."
This explains much. You will have plenty to discuss with Torius once he returns. But your mind turns to other things- you have reached the surface, and the descending sun greets your eyes.
____________________________________________________________________________
Frost clings to my boots, and snow falls. Sculptures of hyena and human alike lay quietly in the newfound tundra, but I ignore them. A glance, and the gnolls huddled atop the hill remain cast in ice.
Slowly, methodically, I kept walking. The Frostfell extended ahead of me, up into the nearby crags.
I paused, noticing a toll house outside of the boundaries of my cast. Past it, a scent of sulfur on the wind. A devil, or something from the hells.
I keep pace, not pausing as cinnamon brushes my nostrils.
"Well this is a conundrum." Light crunching echoed as high-heeled shoes matched my gait.
She wasn't at her full height, but then she didn't need to be. Her wings and tail trailed her, and small horns protruded from her forehead. Full, lovely lips stained in shadows. Eyes like infernal amber. A curtain of obsidian hair, cascading down in waves.
"I find myself at a bit of a crossroads. Currently, a warlock is in legally commanded pursuit of the tiefling ahead. However, the circumstances of her employment were… under-the-table, strictly speaking."
I looked at Glasya. "So I was right. Karlach is a tiefling."
She smiled brightly at me. "Just so. And no kiss for me?"
"What disease would I get?"
"Wasting Sickness today, I think. Or perhaps Slimy Doom?" She pouted fetchingly. Even with my near-exclusive preference for men, I still noticed her beauty. It was more aesthetics than any sort of attraction, but I did notice. "Ah, well."
"So how did she become a devil's advocate?" I asked.
Glasya smiled brightly, dainty little fangs on display. "Well! It's quite fascinating. She had gainful employment under a businessman named Enver Gortash. Inventor, politician, all-around cad. His story's fun as well, but irrelevant for what I want today. The key thing is: despite his Banite faith- that's the tyranny one, for your reference-"
I rolled my eyes. "I've been informed on that much, Glas. My companions aren't quite that bad."
"Well, here's hoping that dragonborn turns out to be less lethal for you than the Prince of Pleasure. At worst, the vampling is a soft target. You're precisely his type, you know." She winked. "Ah, digression. So despite being a baby tyrant, she was not in fact his slave but an employee. Ergo, a contractor, not property. She was not his to trade. And yet, he gave her in bondage to Zariel for classified infernal engine schema. Zariel placed a prototype of her own in Karlach, handed her an axe, and the rest is history."
I watched Glasya carefully.
"Now, she's been on the frontlines for a decade, but never willingly. She never signed a contract of her own, and while kidnapping isn't illegal per se, the contractual nature of her initial conscription carries certain implications. Once she got out, she honestly had every right to her freedom. Or to sell herself to another lord, or whatever she chooses really." Glasya gave a light sigh, and the spicy-sweet scent of her venoms boiled around her. "Even if it's to die here from her prototype going full meltdown. Which it will. My information says it's not meant to be outside Avernus."
"Fire or hellfire."
The devil pursed her lips. "Fire, of course. Mephistopheles is rather stingy with who he'll trust with the good stuff." Her grin returned in force. "So? Have I tempted that do-gooder heart of yours yet?"
"Almost. Two things that I need to know- non-conditional. And a third, conditional."
She waved a taloned hand. "Go on, then." Her black dress did not reach the ground, but caressed her lithe form.
"First: who holds Wyll's leash."
Glasya's eyes lit up. "Love, you won't believe it. Not even a higher level soul broker, but one of Zariel's pets. A cambion, Mizora. She managed to siphon some scraps from Zariel and Dispater to him, and worked with him to stop Tiamat entering this plane." She sighed. "Dear me. That does bring back memories. Sunshine fell trying to stop Netheril's demise, and the little lady perished when her goddess did. Aylin persisted for quite some time, but she's currently off the board."
I bit back the immediate question. Glasya would be back, I could see it on her face. But she wanted me to push past what she was offering in the here and now, so she could make a deal.
But… she was alive. Aylin was alive, even if she wasn't active. Life meant hope. My best friend lived.
"Second: what is the verbiage pertaining to the contract?"
Glasya cleared her throat. "Targets shall be limited to: the infernal, the demonic, the heartless, and the soulless."
"...the engine replaced her heart."
"Right-o!" Glasya clapped, and we came closer to the source of the sulphur. I could see the flames flicker downhill, across a large creek. Or a very small river. "Now, if one were to… repair the damage, so to speak, it would render the order null and void. An attempt to punish such a transgression would be quite illegal."
And Mizora either peeved Glasya or drew attention. Or maybe she just wanted a new kick-ball.
"Congratulations on the ladyship, by the by. Hasn't slowed you any, I hope?"
Glasya's smile was equal parts poisonous and sincere. "Oh love, you know it never would. What's the third one? I'm tempted to give you just a crumb more. Out of affection, of course. And as a welcome-back gift."
"You have, I think. Mizora's a soul collector for Zariel. By doing this, I cheat Zariel of one of her champions, and if Mizora tries to punish Wyll you get to hold her over the coals." I looked at Glasya. "You're poking the bear fighting the Blood War. Why is for your own reasons. What I'd like to know is if Zariel's going to come down on my head, or if I'll need to burn my marker for helping her put down that cult of Demogorgon back when she played for Lathander."
Glasya's eyes lit up. "I cannot believe I forgot that. Oh, you won't. But it'll stick in her craw that everything you've done is entirely legal and above-board." She gave a little laugh, and dragged a claw through the air. It was fresh again, devoid of her scent. "There. No need to put the little miss on edge. She was younger than you when she went into the hells, for all she's older now." She gave me a sidelong glance. "Though the front line of the most devastating war amongst the planes is unlikely to have granted her much mental or emotional maturity."
There were no further words. No further gestures. One moment she was there, and the next… she wasn't.
I walked down to meet Karlach, and felt a slow heat fill my chest. My eyes burned, and I blinked furiously.
And I looked. I saw the metal rammed into her flesh, the glow against her ribcage. I could all but see my Lord's hand hovering, quill in grip, over a waiting page. She had days, weeks at best. No more than a month or two.
My mind flashed back to Dammon, the handsome blacksmith at the Grove. He could try to repair this thing, but it was a prototype. At best he could buy time, improve her life before she died.
There was only one person who could save her right now. And that's exactly why Glasya led me to her.
Because despite knowing what Glasya was, it would placate me. I'd save someone, likely someone I'd befriend. Someone I could rely on. And in the process, I would unsettle her rival, and tug at multiple threads to cause distraction and distress. If I helped Wyll, all the better. Mizora would be a casualty of Glasya's little prank against Zariel, and she'd be down two members of her inner circle.
Avernus was continuously unstable, even in my time. The Blood War started before me, and would continue long after I was gone.
I finally came to a stop in front of Zariel's victim. Karlach.
With the way she held herself, infernal heat clashing against the frost that licked the air, she hardly looked like a rampaging devil. Hunched over, panting, flames licking her skin from the inside.
"W-whoa, there. Easy does it," she rasped, holding a hand up. "Hot…!"
I quickly etched a sign in the air, and let the Fire Immunity wash over me. For the next twenty-four hours, I was fireproof and immune to heat. Smoke was a… different concern.
And I reached out.
____________________________________________________________________________
Karlach
You aren't quite sure what it is, at first. Fighting the flames surging within, some strange sensation lands on your arm.
"I can help. May I?"
It's a hand. He's touching you, and hasn't started to melt. You look up and see vivid pink eyes gazing into your own.
"Hoo. You can try." The heat is overwhelming,
"This is going to get a little weird. I'll need to operate- the sooner the better. Do I have your consent?"
"Can you tune this up? Keep it from- ah, this?" You slam a fist into your chest, the clank echoing through the strange quiet.
"I can do one better." He takes your hand, and rests it against his cheek. "I want to help you. May I?"
It's faint, the sensation. Somewhere through the scorching hellfire in your veins, you can feel the soft skin, the light prickle of a hint of a beard. Outside of his hair, it was likely the most tactile part of him. It is grounding. And through the fever cooking your brain, you realize: you are not alone. There is some stranger here, offering help and… he looks human. Feels human. And the way he looks at you is nothing like any of the devils back in Avernus.
Risk and grit got you this far. One more gamble may well be worth the try.
"Alright."
With your consent, the world goes sideways, and you are engulfed by what can only be described as 'serenity'.
-pen. I- sterile- operate-
Awareness flows in and out. There's no pain-
Gentle Repose and Regenerate. Hybridize- Stasis. Extract.
Only a strange sort of emptiness. But slowly, something starts to happen. You don't have words for it. It's entirely outside your frame of reference, outside all experience.
Sunder, Vanish. Manual movement. Now- Regenerate and Heal hybridize. If it can grow back an arm, an organ just needs some tweaking. And… there. One last Heal to seal up, and…
Awareness returns in slow drips and drams. Your chest aches mildly, but the heat is far less than it was- than it has been in years. Gingerly, you sit up.
The air itself is a twisting haze, only to clear and reveal a gentle snowscape. You don't recall it being winter, but at this point it seems easier to roll with it.
"Welcome back!" Woozy as you are, the chirp is inoffensive enough.
"Hoo. I feel… weird." There's a strange rhythm to your engine. Slow, steady. Quiet, compared to the usual grind of gears and hiss of poor ventilation. "Sort of weighed down."
"Hm. They do say a heart's a heavy burden, but…" The strange man- boy? Somewhere in the middle. He crouches in front of you, arms on his knees and hands dangling in clear view. "Anything else?"
You are brought up short, touching your chest. The muscle is denser there, and your sternum feels firmer somehow. You look down.
No longer are you translucent. No longer are you illuminated. The blood in your veins courses naturally, and if you concentrate very hard you can feel a light flutter beneath your palm.
"What?" you rasp, eyes burning.
"I, erm. Grew it back. Your heart. I hope that's alright?" The stranger- gods, he looks so young, young like you when- when it all went to shit, and so, so innocent. And he says, 'I grew it back' like it's normal. Maybe it is, for him. Maybe he's some strange new god, or related to one, here to finally answer the prayers you stopped chucking into the void long ago.
He looks like the concept of you hurting him is completely foreign. Might as well be from Ten-Towns or some shite, it's that foreign. Though with the snow, you might be in Ten-Towns.
"Yeah. I, yeah. S'alright." You give a breathless smile. "Gods. Gods, it's mine. I have a heart again."
He nods, and you immediately re-evaluate your impression of him. His expression grows distant, cruel. "And if anyone tries to take it again, I'll feed them their own. Fair?"
That's a mark in the 'god' column. And as you look around, you realize: you're right where you were. The snow is what's new.
"Bloody hell, soldier. What've you been up to, eh? Aside from finding ol' Karlach and turning her life upside down." You give a wink with more bravado than you feel, turning on the charm. He's cute, in a puppyish way.
Immediately, the dark look leaves and he ducks his head. "Ah, well. Gnolls. I turned them to ice. Went a little overboard." He worries his lip. "Fair point, but… an archdevil led me to you. Wanted me to help you to interfere with her rival."
Your blood runs cold. Is he here to take you back to Zariel? No, he said he was meant to interfere.
"Long story short: you're free. She doesn't care what happens to you, so long as Zariel doesn't get you back. Maybe she wanted to fuck with the ex-angel, maybe she wanted to butter me up so I keep sowing chaos against the forces of evil that aren't her, it's not something I pay much attention to. She plays her games, and I live my life."
It sounds almost too good to be true, but you can't hear a lie. There's nothing binding your new heart, and you feel as though many weights are lifted.
"So… what now?"
He stands, brushing his knees off. "Now, we go meet my… friends? Companions. They're in a similar state to you." He points at his head, and you immediately understand. "I've extended my magic over you, and you won't transform. But until we find the source of these particular buggies, I won't have the first clue how to extract them."
"Right. So first you give me a heart. Now you want to fix my head? Who are you, Ilmater come again?"
The lad's nose wrinkles. "Augh, no. I'd rather ease pain than take it on myself." He takes a deep breath. "Torius Ancast, formerly of Netheril. Chosen of Jergal, Seneschal of Kelemvor."
The last name rings a solid bell, but here is what you know: this is the Chosen of a god. Not one you know of, but that's not a big deal. He decided to help you, and to all appearances it's because he wanted to. Because it was right.
"Right. So I know Kelemvor, he's the Judge of the Dead. Who's Jergal, and what's a Netheril when it's at home?" You fold your arms with what you hope is an engaging smile.
"Jergal used to be the god of Death, Strife, and the Dead before he gave those domains to the Dead Three. He still holds the title of Lord of the End of Everything."
Well. That sounds fucking ominous.
"He chose me because of my own power, and I've been in his Archives for near two thousand years doing paperwork. Now I'm working with a colorful cast of characters trying to solve an Illithid infestation. At least, I came across it from where he aimed me, so I'm going on my gut."
Good, good. That's better. Wait. Two thousand-?
"Netheril was an empire of mages centuries ago, and the old ruler tried to eat the goddess of magic. She said no, killed herself, and ended all magic for a few minutes. In that timespan, all the city-states fell from the sky, hit the ground, and said moron turned into a rock. Then the new goddess, Mystra, came into being." Torius shuffled awkwardly. "So… yeah."
"Huh." So… he was alone. "That's… kind of shit, isn't it?"
Torius gives a breathless laugh. "That's one way to put it. Luckily I still have Tootsie, and the only other person who really knows me left is-" He pauses, hesitant again. "Well. A devil who helped me fight Tiamat very long ago."
"Who is now an archdevil. You don't get a position like that without ruining a lot of lives, Soldier." The list of devils it could be is short, and there's approximately one who's recently had a tiff with Zariel. "So Glasya, then? Tastes run dangerous?" You smirk at him.
"Eww. No. Not remotely, no." He grimaces, shudders. "I know her way too well to subject myself to that."
And with that, you sigh in relief. "Good taste, then. Or at least, good enough."
"Even if I didn't prefer men, I'd hope I was smart enough not to listen to my dick on that one."
"Ha! Well said, Soldier." You give a smaller smile. "So! There's a group of 'paladins' working for Zariel, up in that tollhouse." You point up the craggy hillside.
He follows your finger and grimaces. "...I would not expect them to be there."
"What?"
"Glasya came from that direction. If they haven't died, they probably wish they had. I'm not risking whatever disease she decided to fling around today."
You point both of your index fingers at him. "Right-o! So that's my schedule cleared, then! What's yours?"
"How do you feel about traveling with a shady cleric of unknown denomination, a wizard with a bomb in his chest capable of leveling the Coast, a Githyanki, a recently freed vampire spawn, an amnesiac probably compelled serial killer, and the Blade of Frontiers?"
The incredulous laugh bursts out of you. "Seriously!? That's ace- wait. The Blade?" You raise your eyebrows. "You know he was trying to kill me, right?"
"I'll handle the introduction. Also, Tootsie! She's a Celestial Dire Honey Badger."
"A what?"
"She ate a flock of harpies and vomited holy fire. Also saved a bitty tiefling boy."
"Adorable. Can't wait to meet her!"
Last edited:
- Location
- Perth, Western Australia
I think you hit Karlach's attitude right on the money. The personality of a puppy in the body of a Terminator. I'm really enjoying this romp-a-stomp, looking forward to more!
Evaunit02mark1
S-s-smell the Prey, S-s-start the Hunt.
Well this is another fine add to my reading list.
Between the party interactions and the sheer nonsense an "ancient" character can get into after his setting rebooted for the twelfth time I've been having a grand old laugh.
Can hardly wait for more.
Between the party interactions and the sheer nonsense an "ancient" character can get into after his setting rebooted for the twelfth time I've been having a grand old laugh.
Can hardly wait for more.
FaeGlade Plural
Semper Legens
- Location
- Land of Bureaucracy
- Pronouns
- Plural/They
So this story inspired us to write up an Archivist Archetype for Pathfinder 2E.
TL;DR it's a variant of Halcyon Speaker, with the entry changed to Loremaster, working off a spellbook/prayerbook and in exchange not getting any extra spell slots.
TL;DR this works as Halcyon Spells.
TL;DR this is Halcyon Dedication, except with no added spell slots - this will remain true throughout the archetype, because we needed something to balance out the larger spell selection.
TL;DR this is Uzunjati Storytelling, except it benefits and enables from Performance-feats.
This is Cascade Bearers Spellcasting, and adds Occult- and Primal- Spells to your Archivist Spells.
A buff to Dark Knowledge, copied from Janatimo's Lessons.
This is altered Synergistic Spell, because that fits well.
TL;DR it's a variant of Halcyon Speaker, with the entry changed to Loremaster, working off a spellbook/prayerbook and in exchange not getting any extra spell slots.
Archivist Spells are spells from thearcane or divine list. You gain new Archivist spells both via Feats, and via the Lean a Spell activity to add them to your Spellbook(called a Prayerbook). You can only learn Archivist spells of levelsequal to the highest level Archivist Spell you have learned from feats.
Archivist spells are prepared or castjust like other spells granted by your class: for example a Clericwho gained Archivist Spells would add them to to their spell list andto the spells they can prepare each day, a Wizard would also add themto their spell book, while a Sorcerer would add them to theirRepertoire.
Each time you cast an Archivist Spell,decide whether it is arcane or divine. You can't heighten an Archivist Spell beyond your maximum level of Archivist Spell, even ifyou have higher-level spell slots, and you can't select them as aSignature Spell.
Archivist spells are prepared or castjust like other spells granted by your class: for example a Clericwho gained Archivist Spells would add them to to their spell list andto the spells they can prepare each day, a Wizard would also add themto their spell book, while a Sorcerer would add them to theirRepertoire.
Each time you cast an Archivist Spell,decide whether it is arcane or divine. You can't heighten an Archivist Spell beyond your maximum level of Archivist Spell, even ifyou have higher-level spell slots, and you can't select them as aSignature Spell.
Archivist Dedication Level 6
Prerequisites: Loremaster Dedication
You gain two Archivist cantrips and two common Archivist spells. You gain a Spellbook, and can add Archivist spells to it using the Learn a Spell activity. You can cast your Archivist spells using your arcane or divine spell slots. You gain trained proficiency in either arcane or divine spellcasting.
Prerequisites: Loremaster Dedication
You gain two Archivist cantrips and two common Archivist spells. You gain a Spellbook, and can add Archivist spells to it using the Learn a Spell activity. You can cast your Archivist spells using your arcane or divine spell slots. You gain trained proficiency in either arcane or divine spellcasting.
1 Action
You tell a quick story or begin telling a longer tale. This is most useful when you want to prove your scholarly credibility or impress someone quickly. Roll a check with a skill that can be used to Recall Knowledge, using theresult entry for the Perform action. Like Performing, Storytelling rarely has an effect on itsown, but it might influence the DCs of subsequent Diplomacy checksagainst the observers—or even change their attitudes—if the GMsees fit. This action is not a Performance and cannot be used inplace of anything that requires you to Perform. However, you can apply Performance Skill Feats to this action. In addition, you can use any skill that can be used to Recall Knowledge in place of Performance to learn Performance Skill Feats.
You tell a quick story or begin telling a longer tale. This is most useful when you want to prove your scholarly credibility or impress someone quickly. Roll a check with a skill that can be used to Recall Knowledge, using theresult entry for the Perform action. Like Performing, Storytelling rarely has an effect on itsown, but it might influence the DCs of subsequent Diplomacy checksagainst the observers—or even change their attitudes—if the GMsees fit. This action is not a Performance and cannot be used inplace of anything that requires you to Perform. However, you can apply Performance Skill Feats to this action. In addition, you can use any skill that can be used to Recall Knowledge in place of Performance to learn Performance Skill Feats.
Archivist Spellcasting Initiate Level 10
You gain two common 2nd-level Archivist Spells and two common 3rd-level Archivist Spells. Your proficiency in either arcane or divinespell DCs and spell attack rolls increases from trained to expert.
You gain two common 2nd-level Archivist Spells and two common 3rd-level Archivist Spells. Your proficiency in either arcane or divinespell DCs and spell attack rolls increases from trained to expert.
You can select your Archivist Spells from the Occult- or Primal spell list in addition to the Arcane and Divine spell list, though they are still Archivist Spells. You gain an Archivist Cantrip and a 1st-level Archivist Spell.
When you use Dark Knowledge to tell a story and Recall Knowledge about a creature during a combat encounter, if you succeed at both checks, your story carries deeper meaning. This grants your allies a +1 circumstance bonus to their next attack rolland saving throw against the creature during that encounter, as well as to their AC against that creature's next attack roll during thatencounter. If you critically succeed at both checks, the bonuses alsoapply to all attack rolls, saves, and AC against that creature for 2rounds.
You gain two common 6th-level and 7th-level ArchivistSpells. Your proficiency in either arcane or divine spell DCs and spell attack rolls increases from expert to master.
If the next action you use is to Cast a Spell and you cast an Archivist Spell, after that spell resolves, you can Cast another Spell as a free action. This spell must also be an Archivist spell slots and be a spell that would normally take two actions to cast.
Geas
Meat Thing
It's funny because it's true!
So, it's been so long, I'd nearly forgotten how much bullshit the 3.5 Archivist is. I mean, it should be expected from the broken and unbalanced days of 3.5 but still...
They should get Enlarge permanencied on Tootsie, so Karlach can ride her into battle.
Fiends and Celestials: Are we a joke to you?
Torius: Yes.
Alt:
Torius: You aren't of this world.
Gale: My face would like to have a word with you.
Fiends and Celestials: Are we a joke to you?
Torius: Yes.
Alt:
Torius: You aren't of this world.
Gale: My face would like to have a word with you.
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
To be fair, he thought he was Karsus- who very very much fits the criteria Astarion presented.
To be unfair, he was also having a vaguely traumatic flashback after being told the man was turned into a garden statue and there was no way Gale could be him.
A garden statue that was on a floating city that fell and crashed over 1800 years ago.
Last edited:
- Pronouns
- Any/All
Oof, out of the running right at the start of the race. At least Karlach has already reached her best ending pretty much thanks to Torius lmao.
Also, I can't wait to see how the whole Shadow-Cursed Lands plot deals with Torius, especially with him being Jergal's Chosen
deadcrystal
Slaaneshi Cultist
- Location
- The Warp
Nice way of resolving the awkwardness of 'Do they have souls or don't they' given contradictory information in the game, including from Our Friend Withers, and us not wanting anyone we care about who turns into one to not count as a person. At least not under unusual cicumstances.
Shadow-cursed lands are a good area for a Sorcerer to show off their CHA and talking skills, what with there being three different minibosses you can talk to death.
Making him the youngest and least worldly and mature party member.
It is fairly amazing the nighttime scene would be literally the first time Astarion has drunk a person's blood.
Torius doesn't understand the appeal for most devils of reaching those heights is that you can stop working and make your slaves do stuff to support your elaborate hobbies. With exceptions for workaholic weirdoes like Zariel and Asmodeus.
Naturally, as a party member Torius must be horny for the MC in order to be available as a romance option.
I like that Pathfinder also has the requirement of 'must not have been judged by Pharasma' which coupled with her knowledge of fate allows convenient excuses for why people can/can't be resurrected.
Oh Volo. Such a fun character. Kind of an egotistical moron, but in a way that makes him endearing rather than annoying.
All in all the scheme is pretty well put together. Obviously it has the disadvantage of reliance on members of an alliance who don't like each other and aren't stable, but still.
Torius thankfully avoids the phase spider encounter.
Ah yes, the massive amount of equipment in the game put there to be useful to potential PC builds, and is useless to the default characters. Like Monk or Bard equipment.
Alive and in dire need of a holiday.
Considering how things usually work, Wyll actually has a very good contract. Advantage of unknowingly having devils over a barrel when it comes to resolving a situation with Tiamat.
Very good, because otherwise I'm not sure what Torius could actually do to help Wyll. Devil contracts and their consequences can't be avoided just with a spell, they're a bit more intrinsic. Wyll will be pleased, even if they are fantastic horns.
The upper echelons of devils don't rely on threats or deception. They approach you in the open, and offer you what you want with no tricks, no unforseen consequences, no monkey's paw nonsense. You can see everything that makes it a bad decision, and you make it anyway.
I do like how Ilmater makes people uncomfortable for taking the whole self-sacrificing thing a few steps beyond what people care for.
Oh they are going to get along like a house on fire.
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
From what I've read, Illithids have gods- they're just not Faerun gods. So to that end, they must have souls useful to something or someone, just not them. Now, as my disclaimer of 'many squids were harmed', I will flat out say nobody is getting tentacles on a 24/7 basis. But this point felt worthy of clarification regardless.
Creccoth is the party face for this reason. He has the people skills Wyll does, but also a level of pragmatism that lets him make calls like lying to someone's face even if they might not deserve it. Torius plays face once in a future chapter, and lays out why he in general does not enjoy it.
Even 1800 years later, he's still the baby of the group. And this will not stop Astarion from trying to seduce him and Creccoth, because even with all this Astarion needs to make sure his safety is secured.
That said, it's probably going to backfire on him (Astarion) much, much sooner than in canon.
My plan for Cazador is quite possibly one of my favorite parts of this fic. I daresay it manages to be worse for him than either of his possible deaths in canon. And it benefits so many more people!
Torius is under the impression that higher devils are not unlike gods- they have responsibilities, etc, etc. This is because he projects how he would be as a god onto both.
There's a reason Asmodeus sits back and lets his baby girl's little gay friend be. It's not fear, it's he's so much fun to watch obliterate the plans of every rival on the board.
So I haven't fully fleshed out all the ships I want in terms of who-what-when, but I do know that I wanted Torius to crush on Creccoth, Creccoth to warm to him, and Astarion to land himself in the middle while it was forming for maximum personal stability. And then accidentally OT3 himself in the process. Congrats, vampire boy! You fucked up harder than canon, and reaped the whirlwind!
I originally had a scene with Volo at the end of Chapter 4, but it felt too tacked-on and the characters were not acting right for me, even by fanfic terms. I axed it and left it where Glasya showed up and as you see here, just moved from there to Chapter 5. I ultimately settled on 'if it's like canon, it happened outside the perception of the POV character'. Volo's discussion with Gale is basically bar-for-bar what happens if you talk to him in the Grove. Hence Alfira's song getting finished, Arabella's reunion with her parents, and Mol met Creccoth too. Torius added nothing to the scenes, so I let them just roll as normal.
If Durge had remained as Bhaal's Chosen, it would have worked for him right to the end. Orin literally fucked everything up, regardless of what Origin is picked. The Durge/Thorm/Gortash alliance was far, far more stable even if they still hated each other.
Don't worry, he'll still get to meet Kar'niss.
I never got the whole 'Gale's eating all our stuff!' issue. Between that robe, the ring of color spray, the axe that does bonus damage against burning from that merchant in the Grove, and Flind's 'hit a thing or go loco' flail... I never really ran out of stuff to feed him? Honestly, I could have set a whole buffet for his wizardly self. There were so many things that counted as 'food' for it that I would never use on a build, even if it fit.
Her response to seeing Isobel is so valid. Been kept in a torture cage for a century and saw her hot partner running towards her after the bastard whodunnit was dead? 'Succor in words and bodies' sure seems a pretty natural reaction.
Mizora: I'm a huge rules lawyer and an asshole!
Glasya: Hah. Hahah. Hold my virgin's blood champagne, sweetie.
Torius: I got your drink, go get 'er!
Asmodeus: Darling, I'm going to borrow your wrecking ball against this Absolute thing. After all, doesn't one of the Chosen have your Aasimar toy?
Glasya: Daddy, no!
Asmodeus: Did I ask?
Glasya: ...I drive.
Asmodeus: Very good, pet.
He's literally known as 'the god on the rack'. Nobody wants to hit that level of charity outside his followers. Nobody.
Will Karlach get to pet Tootsie? Will Tootsie tolerate Karlach? Will they ride into battle as one? (Probably, sure, and I dunno I've only got two more chapters written at this point.)
I haven't gotten to that point but I'll probably start having him dole out gear in Chapter 8. Next chapter he shows off some of his own not-spell gear and it's implied to be pretty potent. Once I post Chapter 6, I'll start doing informational posts with his gear (which is 95% homebrew).
His spells are all SRD so can be looked up pretty easily, and I'm not likely to put 'numbers' in because there's only so much disbelief I can suspend as an author and 'I used a 7th level Necromancy that does 2d6 Con Damage to reverse-engineer a blood bottle' sounds a lot less cool than 'I reverse-engineered a blood-water curse to make a Decanter of Endless Blood'. So if I forget to link a thing and it sounds weird, but the name is there it can be found with 'name 3.5' in an engine of choice.
(This is not a call-out, just me preemptively saying why I won't do informational posts about spells unlike gear.)
Last edited:
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Even the stuff shown is hilarious as-is, given that 5e doesn't have mandatory stat sticks in every relevant slot as part of its power curve. So an uncapped +8 periapt is a big fucking deal, nevermind a drawer full of Rings of Protection and whatever Cloaks of Resistance turn into.
deadcrystal
Slaaneshi Cultist
- Location
- The Warp
So I've had a thing for a while where I play around with the idea of having my version of the Pathfinder Kingmaker PC get dropped into settings decades on from the end of a game from ritual spell backlash, dying. I've played around with the concept a bunch but never come up with enough to make it ever actually worth writing, just isolated scenes and moments. But I did imagine dropping her into BG3 much like Torius has been, and did come up with a plan for how to resolve Cazador and that whole situation that I liked.
The ritual is designed to feed 7000 odd souls to Mephistopheles (or possibly they're consumed, unclear) and then refine the vampire into an ascended form with the advantages but no disadvantages. In other words, the ritual is designed to receive something from 7000 sources, and is linked to the big M. What if you subverted the ritual. Let it happen, but instead of siphoning the whole soul, just siphon the blood curse attached to it. Probably you don't get an Ascended Vampire at the end, just like, a half-ascended or something, but suddenly you have 7000 cured vampire spawn. Probably you also deeply piss off Mephistopheles, but that's just a bonus as far as I'm concerned.
Makes sense. There are so so many quests in the game, and other little notable things that shoving most of them off-screen unless they're important or work with the character is the only rational approach.
They could prioritize. Sure, they hated everything the others stood for, but by ignoring that they achieved their goals, and that was all that mattered. Pragmatism.
Heck, even just from saving Arabella in the previous chapter you get a necklace that casts...dancing lights. If that's not Gale fodder I don't know what is.
I did burst out laughing when it happened in game. She's the very archetype of the formal, almost Shakespearean Paladin, and then she just goes, 'Sorry, I can't answer any more questions until later, first I need to fuck my wife for so long she forgets how to walk'.
Last edited: