Gods Playing Dice (A 3.5 Archivist in Baldur's Gate 3)
- Thread starter Blinktwice13
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Ah I guess Ethel wished she had her immortality mushrooms set up right about now yes.
With regards to the hair, it being a known fact that their scalps have consequence free benefits is the only in universe justification I can see for taking Ethel's deal. Look I know gameplay wise, it's a free stat boost with zero mechanical downsides. However in universe I can't see how even the most credulous person can look at all the malicious genie shit going on and go "yes eating your fetid swamp hair. I'm sure you're being totally honest and I can't see how this could possibly backfire on me at all."
With regards to the hair, it being a known fact that their scalps have consequence free benefits is the only in universe justification I can see for taking Ethel's deal. Look I know gameplay wise, it's a free stat boost with zero mechanical downsides. However in universe I can't see how even the most credulous person can look at all the malicious genie shit going on and go "yes eating your fetid swamp hair. I'm sure you're being totally honest and I can't see how this could possibly backfire on me at all."
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
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It's implied that she does have it up when she offers her deal in canon, so she'll respawn. She just won't be happy about dying that messy!
And part of Torius' strength isn't just natural talent or that he's a hoarder; he's a min-maxer. The Int Book, making puppy eyes at passing Solars for wishes, snatching the whole wig of a terrifying night hag…
Just teenager things!
I am really, really liking this story, last chapter had an incredible wholesome ending, the mental image of that cuddle pile warms my heart, it makes me want to protect them, and now this? The violence was satisfing, and it couldn't happen to better creature, fuck the fey.
So, how many of the party members are horrified, how many are impressed, and how many are horny for our archivist now?
I also have the mental image of Bhaal trying to play matchmaker for Creccoth after that display of violence and it's the funniest shit ever
So, how many of the party members are horrified, how many are impressed, and how many are horny for our archivist now?
I also have the mental image of Bhaal trying to play matchmaker for Creccoth after that display of violence and it's the funniest shit ever
- Location
- Taken by the hand to a land that they understand
My favorite parts of this story is how you weave jokes and goofs amidst scene of
I know little about this game besides a few clips via social media osmosis, and I can practically envision this wonderful story as it unfolds. Good job!
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
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My favorite parts of this story is how you weave jokes and goofs amidst scene ofmurderhoboingAdventure!
I know little about this game besides a few clips via social media osmosis, and I can practically envision this wonderful story as it unfolds. Good job!
And thanks to this quote I realized I had misspelled my protagonist's surname! So that's fixed
Also, glad you're enjoying it.
The only one who Torius actually scared was Gale, and even he recovered pretty quickly. Shadowheart's still in her Stone Cold Sharran phase, Wyll's a Hero (and had no sympathy for a child-eater), and Karlach frontlined on the Blood War.
'Godless' (not her actual name of course) is multiple centuries the party's senior except maybe Astarion.
And the other three immediately got the murder-boners. Especially Lae'zel, poor girl. Wrong tree!
Bhaal would be disappointed in Torius on principle (since he has principles), and Torius... well. His idea of A Proper Death God is closer to Discworld or the Endless. Bhaal doing what he did and turning it to Murder is certainly not a charm point.
Bhaal would see Torius as the loser boyfriend, and Torius would probably just try to kill him and find a proper psychopomp overdeity. Not him, but someone.
Hopefully Creccoth and Astarion make room for Halsin in their little group
Don't think she'd be that successful given our protagonist's preferences. She does end up sleeping with Wyll (or Astarion) at the end of the Act 1 party if there isn't a conflicting romance with the PC. She is apparently disappointed/bored with Wyll's performance though, but leaves Astarion open for a future rendezvous if you talk to her about it
OctarineShrike
Avatar of Mandos
Speculation: Viconia Devir from the first 2 Baldurs Gate games.
Blinktwice13
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Thank you! I was waiting on this one. I tried to make it super obvious, and it's one of the three non-canon plot lines I decided to firmly work in.
A lot of discussion that I only understood on reading up on the character was like 'why did they take the absolute worst version of this character for a cameo' and 'there's a lot that doesn't add up here for her actions'.
Since I'm going full silly in terms of taking a Chosen-shaped mallet to the game, it shouldn't hurt if I tweak a few other details. Fanfic is a transformative work, etc, etc.
- Location
- Texas
Having a bit of trouble following who all these people are without playing BG3.
Also, him bragging about his wealth was a bit out of character
Also, him bragging about his wealth was a bit out of character
Blinktwice13
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So I went back and marked all the POV changes, and going forward I've set up to do the same. That said, as this is a BG3 fanfiction the assumption is that the game was played or VODs were watched beforehand.
A lot of what fanfiction is, is playing in someone else's sandbox. The characters (even when only used in name and physical description only) are pre-established. Most times, so is the world itself. I do try to expand on things for details that get lost in the shuffle, but if I just rewrite BG3 I'll have lawyers down my neck and a solid majority of the people reading this fic will probably (rightfully) leave. Also it's just not fun to write it all out!
Original fiction carries the onus of building everything from the ground up; fanfiction is by its nature transformative and applied to existing work.
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As for the wealth-brag, if one ignores the context it would be out of character. In this case it was less 'I am rich hahaha' and more 'stop worrying, I'm freaking loaded'. Astarion hates self-sacrifice, and being a good samaritan is a great way to tank disapproval hits. He's going to be considerably less pissy about losing a diamond if there's a lot more where that came from.
Not to mention, he's opening up around the canon crew. More and more of his childishness is going to come to the fore, not to mention the traditional early-twenties still-a-mess bits.
Torius Ancast is impulsive, charismatic, and barely out of his teens. He is high Int, above-average (for 3.5) Charisma, and at most slightly above-average Wis. While he's no good at playing Face without heavy magical aid (as seen in the prior chapter), he's personable and can navigate longer-term interpersonal management. Case in point: he managed to keep the peace in a party containing Selune's Daughter, the Mistress of Malbolge, a Cleric of Mystryl, and a Good-Aligned Bard. Don't ask him to talk to strangers, but give him time (hours to days) to adapt and observe and he's good at taking care of his people. Himself on the other hand...
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EXTRA: To explain how much of a crutch Glibness was, it's a third level spell that gave him a flat +30 bonus to Deception checks. Compare it to 5e, where it's reliable talent plus for Charisma (all rolls of 14 or lower are automatically 15) - and an eighth level spell. Both versions ignore lie detection, but in a world where DC 30 is the 'you can certainly try' DC, it's basically 'don't roll a 1 and your words are gospel'.
In normal d&d would be even better because nat ones being automatic fails on skill checks is unique to baldurs gate
Tome Eight: Mudslinging
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
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A second chapter to round out the weekend. I still have a backlog of one, and am mostly through a second. If nothing else, I can finish posting the 'swamp mini-arc' over Thanksgiving.
Content Notes: Torius gets a lil' "excited". There's a smooch, singular. Astarion plots. No real gore because of the fight(s)(?) that take place.
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I grunted when something wet and warm hit my face, followed by humid puffs of breath. When I opened my eyes, big brown innocent ones stared back.
"Hullo, friends! It was hard because the swamp stinks, but I found you!"
I looked sideways. Somehow after last night I'd ended up with my head on Creccoth's arm. Not quite spooning because he was on his back and I was on my side, but my spine was lightly pressed against his ribs. One good roll and I'd have had those pillowy dragon-bosoms pressed into my shoulder blades and his nose into my hair.
Damnation.
"Hullo, Scratch," I rasped. I forced myself up instead of being a bad person and rolling in to snuggle Creccoth's sleeping form. I took the consolation prize of scritching the pup's head, earning a happy tongue loll and several tail wags.
Tootsie would never.
"Staying with us, then?" I asked, taking my hand back.
"If I can. That is, you haven't changed your mind?"
"I haven't, and if anyone has I can talk them around. By which I mean I'll make sad eyes at Creccoth till he does."
"Oh, I did that to Gomwick all the time! I can help!"
"I quite literally let you sleep on me last night after you nodded off counting treasure. I think we're a bit past you needing 'puppy eyes' to convince me of something innocuous."
I looked over my shoulder. Creccoth had rolled onto his side, resting his head on one palm. Even I could tell he was smirking with the pull of his lips.
"So is there a reason you go without a shirt at night? Your scales shouldn't damage fabric, not if I woke up without any abrasions on my face." His bicep made a surprisingly nice pillow… dammit. And I didn't even get a chance to really enjoy it.
He shrugged. "The one I have doesn't fit my frame. And besides, I've yet to hear any complaints." He grinned. "Unless this is a complaint?"
"Nope!" I turned around. "So Scratch, welcome aboard!"
"Are you alright, friend? You changed colors."
"Yep! I'm totally fine!" The heat of my face was near unbearable. He was flirting, right? This was flirting?
Nobody'd ever flirted with me before! Well once, but it was pretty obvious and didn't end well!
"So darling, what did the haul come to?" Astarion draped himself across me, placing a hand right above my knee. His chin rested on my shoulder. "Anything we can use?"
"There was a nice batch of healing potions, some surprisingly potent strength potions- likely Karlach or Lae'zel would get the most use of them. A few invisibility potions, which aren't super common… Sadly, the staff didn't really have much. It stores one particularly weak spell that I don't think Creccoth or Gale would find useful." I tapped my chin. "And then there's the staff that enhances unarmed combat. Really, the potions and ingredients are the most useful if only by volume. The wand of Animate Dead will raise more questions we don't want in polite society, the unique brews are mostly some flavor of harmful if not humiliating, and she must have sold her wares for pittance given there was only three hundred gold."
"Only three hundred." Astarion's incredulous tone made me look at him. "Darling, that's enough to put all of us up in the Elfsong for a solid tenday, if not longer. Room and board. I think your perspective on what is a pittance and what is a neat windfall may perhaps be skewed."
I grumbled. "All the stuff is so weak though. I figured you'd want to do stuff all traditional and just get stuff as we went, but now…"
"Yeeesss?" Astarion's nose brushed my cheek, and his breath tickled my neck. He always seemed so touchy-feely, but this was a bit more than usual.
"OI."
Astarion grunted as Tootsie shoved him aside, the badger waddling into my lap. "Wh- how dare you!" he squeaked, eyes wide.
Tootsie glared up at him from her sprawl. "Leave some bloody room for Selune. Just 'cause 'e gave you 'is blood in a sippy don't mean you need to go panting over anything else."
Eh? I blinked rapidly. "Huh? Tootsie, Astarion's just like that. He's a cuddly guy."
The sound the vampire made could not have come from a mortal throat. "I'm what?" The pitch managed to raise even higher.
Scratch tilted his head with a confused whine. "Does the shining one not approve of your mate?"
"My what?"
Tootsie glared daggers at Scratch. "Do you have any idea how much harder you just made my job? How'm I supposed to keep unsavory sorts from luring him into bed to use him if he can tell when someone's making a pass?"
Deep, booming laughter echoed from behind me where Creccoth lay.
Astarion made aborted rasps, and from the corner of my eye I saw him twitch.
"Oh, and here I thought you were simply playing hard to get," Shadowheart quipped, rolling her bedroll and affixing it to her pack with a sidelong smirk.
I flailed from under Tootsie. "How am I supposed to play hard to get when I'm already hard to want? I'd like to experience a multi-participant orgasm before the next empire collapses, thank you!"
Karlach's squawk of bawdy laughter was expected.
"Is he alright?" Wyll whispered to Gale on the edge of my hearing.
"Erm…" Gale did not respond.
In a blur of motion, Lae'zel knelt before me. She gazed deep into my eyes, intent. Intense.
"Um…?"
"I wish to taste your sweat."
I sputtered. "Miss, I am a homosexual!"
Tootsie snarled, drooling holy ashes to the left of my lap. Scratch started barking in solidarity.
Shadowheart's bell-like laughter was simply the candle on the shit cake that the morning devolved into.
And all the while, Godless watched while sipping a mug of some hot drink. "Almost as entertaining as watching the berserker happen to someone else," she murmured to herself.
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Creccoth
Torius glowers at all of you, face tucked into the neck of his robe. It is simultaneously hilarious and endearing.
Though with your understanding of his upbringing, you now understand why he was utterly unable to read those particular non-verbal signs. With the arcanomagocracy, his birth caste, and the way such empires ran- on families of arcane talent- it was unlikely he would have found anything approaching acceptance. The thought that the closest he had come to an interlude was near enslavement to The Lord of Forbidden Pleasures is an upsetting one.
You tighten your robe, and are gratified by the way his eyes track the movement of cloth over your shoulders. It took a little time for you to make up your mind, but he's proven to be an interesting sort. Definitely worth seeing if anything romantic is possible.
"Now darling, don't be upset. It was never anyone's intent to harm you, I swear." Astarion's soothing tones cause the archivist's eyes to narrow at him, but no other movement is taken. Emboldened, the vampire creeps closer. "Admittedly, we did get off on a rough start. But rest assured, my advances were fully genuine." Astarion's liar's smile is on full display. Calculated to charm and disarm.
You would happily pass time with Astarion, but of the two Torius is the safer, more genuine choice. But you have seen flashes of a long-buried… something in Astarion when he approaches Torius. It is less frequently offered to you, but you have a feeling that Astarion does not disapprove of you. Interestingly, your choice to entrust Torius to his direction seems to have paid unforeseen dividends.
Torius stares Astarion down. He looks to the rest of you, still sulking. "So. Gear?" His voice is clipped.
You consider him carefully. After a moment, you easily understand: he isn't hurt, he's embarrassed. And somewhat confused. And beneath all of that… his cheeks are somewhat pink. He's flattered.
You meet Astarion's eyes, and the vampire seems to pick up on your thoughts immediately. "Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with us, my dear." His smile turns down a few notches, but is still present.
Lae'zel, to her credit, looks utterly unbothered. "Had I known you exclusively preferred men, I would have contented myself with admiring your carnage," she comments.
"I'm unsurprised you missed it. After all, it's not as though he was openly ogling our dear leader's buttocks. Or Astarion's hands." Shadowheart's tone could turn a lesser man into a pile of dust.
The sound Torius makes at this resembles nothing so much as a dog subjected to a sudden bath.
You cough into your fist to hide a smile, though with the shape of your head you are uncertain of the maneuver's success.
"Sorry lad, but you were fairly obvious," Gale chimes in. "Though 'hard to want' - I would gladly sit down whoever poured that codswallop in your ear and give them a stern talking to." He plants a hand on his hip. "You have many charms applicable in the modern day, and it would take no long time for you to have a slew of admirers, I'm sure!"
Torius simply claps his hands together, mutters something indecipherable, and opens an oval of light. "Gear. Right. Gear." He is now a fetching shade of scarlet, which clashes prettily with his rosé-colored eyes.
"Truly, though. You are a valued member of our group, and if such thoughts overtake you again- please reach out to us," Wyll volunteers you all. "For all our short association, I consider you a most worthwhile friend."
Godless, inscrutable as yesterday, manages to exude an aura of dour amusement despite having every feature hidden.
Karlach claps Lae'zel on the back companionably. "No fear, Lae'zel. I almost made the same mistake before Soldier gave that as why he'd never make a pass at Glasya."
"Not because she's an Archdevil, but because she has a va-" Astarion begins, grinning lasciviously.
A sheathed dagger slaps into his chest, quickly followed by a second.
"Ooh, shiny!"
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I folded my arms as they all equipped the arms and armor I provided.
Creccoth and Gale seemed rather taken with the staves and robes, and I personally kept my fingers crossed they wouldn't abuse the staves in particular.
Wyll got a new rapier and lightly glimmering studded leather, while I pulled out a nice breastplate, shield, and morningstar for Shadowheart.
Astarion checked over the dual daggers and bow in his mythril shirt, and Lae'zel admired her maul while clad in the silent full plate I'd cobbled together years ago for Aylin.
(She hadn't needed it, but an option other than 'fly in and hit it until it stops moving' seemed nice to offer.)
And Karlach turned to me. "So! What do I get?" She rolled her shoulders. "Armor and I don't mix, you know."
I looked at Godless.
"I am content with my equipment," she demurred. And truthfully, it was nearly on par with anything I could offer- if limited in number.
"So…" I shuffled.
Karlach smiled. "C'mon. No need to be shy."
"Maybe? I um. Didn't exactly… dispose of…"
Her brow furrowed. "Of what?"
I tapped her sternum, right under her collarbone. She froze.
"Yeah. I uh, made a thing. You have first dibs, but-"
"How!?" She spread her arms. "That thing was spewing fire and smoke and shit before it went in me! How'd you work it into anything!?"
I pointed at the glimmering portal. "I have a demiplane where my word is law, and distorted time and causality before conking out on Creccoth for a night?"
"Without food and drink?" Shadowheart frowned, but under her consternation was real concern. I think.
I shook my head. "I have supplies in there too. I'll haul out provisions if we need them when we camp next."
"How long did you adventure?" Wyll asked, sliding his rapier into a sheath at his waist. At least they didn't ask about my abuse of the flow of time.
I ticked off my fingers. "I left home at twelve, met Aylin at fourteen, we traveled a couple years, I picked a fight with Karsus at nineteen and ended up with Tootsie, then we met Sunshine, then LaBelle, then Glasya. Tiamat was the last big call before I went in the Archive. Jergal had named me his Chosen right before that. So… eight years? I was a very busy boy, you see." I nodded.
"...twelve?" Astarion rasped, eyes wide. "You were a bloody child."
"A lowborn child. Nobody outside my mother cared what I got up to. At least, until I swat a cult plaguing one of the barbarian communities." A thought occurred to me. "Wait. Tootsie, that chieftain's son-"
"He asked you to join his family. He quite literally was asking for your hand in marriage." The badger gave me a gimlet glare. "You didn't want to be tied down, so I kept my gob shut." Her stare swung to Scratch. "As should we all, to keep the peace."
I stared at her. Scratch whined.
"Right, cockblocking badger later, infernal engine now." Karlach pat the top of my head roughly. "C'mon, Soldier! Don't leave me hanging!" she wheedled.
I pulled it out.
The bastard sword hummed with power, the engine compacted down into the hilt. The blade was studded with small vents I'd taken care to reinforce and enchant, and on the grip was something like a pump. The blade itself glowed a sullen cherry-red amongst the silvery vents, and the whisper of moving air could be heard.
Karlach hefted it, and squeezed.
The engine revved with a roar, and flames spouted out, the blade vibrating with inanimate bloodlust. The steel went white-hot, and a thin trail of gray smoke poured from the engine.
Karlach made a sharp squeal. "Oh. My. Gods. Now that it's not in my chest, I love it!" She beamed at me. "Soldier, are you sure you're not making a pass? This is the sort of thing that makes people wanna ride you 'till you see stars."
I flushed. "I, well, I mean. No? No. I'm flattered, really, but. No." I swallowed. "It's not you, it's very much me. I thought women of your, ah, stature were to my tastes once but Aylin and I discovered our mutual ah. Lack of heterosexuality. Together. Our friendship survived the stronger, but the details are sealed in a pact of wine and silence."
Lae'zel raised an eyebrow at me. "And what of my stature?"
I pointed at Karlach. "You're strong, but wiry. I'm an avid fan of mountain-climbing."
Lae'zel inclined her head gracefully. "An acceptable answer."
"Ayo!" Karlach held a hand up with a brilliant grin. "I resemble that remark!"
I slapped her palm with my own, standing on my toes.
"So does our fearless leader. Alas, where does that leave me?"
I peered at Astarion, and despite the joking tone I could tell the question was at least partly honest.
"You're bendier."
His eyes widened. "How… forward." He was taken aback, but certainly not displeased.
I raised my arms in agitation. "I've been celibate for eighteen hundred years! If anything besides dust comes out in the next week, it'll be an act of divinity! Backed up is an understatement!"
He gave a slow smile. "Duly noted."
Creccoth cleared his throat. "If we're quite done poking fun at Torius?" His tone indicated more amusement than anything.
"Never darling, but we can take a pause," Astarion shot back.
"Good, because we need to go find that meeting spot and I want to try out this new staff." He lifted it, admiring the gem shards that melded together into its focus. "One wonders what it does, really."
"Oh, it intensifies spell power, and after you hold it for a week and it finishes attuning it allows you to learn spells like a wizard from scrolls, whether you're one or not. Not many though, like... seven? Sunshine, LaBelle and I knocked our heads together over it because Sunshine found several bardic scrolls and wanted to learn from them despite-"
"Wait. How will he remember them?" Gale asked. "Even I need my spellbook."
"Oh, that's easy. The staff acts as a translation device first and foremost, so it's simply added to what you know! Also- hm. Not sure how it works with Mystra's restrictions, but it treats your casting ability as several notches higher for calculating how many spell slots you receive. I added that one myself." Mystra, not Mystryl. Must remember.
Creccoth stared at me, and the way his eyes resembled an inferno never seemed more appropriate.
"I chose that because I have more than a few Sorcerer's scrolls that I just can't use and it seemed like a nice-"
It was then that I discovered what it was like to kiss a dragonborn, right as he stormed up to me, bodily scooped me up, and ground his muzzle into my lips.
He certainly had a bit of tongue to work with!
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I was getting a lot more uncomfortable looks after I explained just what everything did.
"So these daggers can be thrown, come back, and seek out vitals? And I can throw them that often?"
"A rapier that detects if the target is evil, tells me, and enhances its own power in that condition!?"
Uncomfortable for me. After the revelation that I was in fact desirable in this day and age, I now had to contend with, well. Being desired.
I didn't know how Creccoth handled the party's admiration of him, but lucky me the only ones who were serious about it were him and possibly Astarion.
Tootsie grumbled as she plodded along, keeping a close eye on Scratch. "Now I have two idiot pups to look after," she muttered.
"I've been considering, and we've reached a number where we can comfortably tackle multiple priorities at once." Creccoth cast an eye over us.
One sorcerer, one wizard, one cleric, one rogue, one warlock, one fighter, one barbarian, one archivist, and (possibly) a second cleric. Add in Tootsie and Scratch and it was getting to be a full house, certainly. And this was before anyone else joined. We were on a quest to unearth illithid nastiness that was entirely possibly tied in with a cult. More hands were going to join.
He held up a fist, and we came to a halt.
"For now, we have a singular objective. With that in mind, I want to pick a smaller number of you to engage with whatever inevitable confrontation awaits so we don't trip all over each other." He looked at me. "You and Godless will be kept in reserve. Outside of an army, enemy encampment we need cleared quickly, a foe likely to threaten Toril on its own, or you acting unilaterally this will generally be the case."
Godless folded her arms. "I am unsure whether to be insulted or flattered. If you wish me to remain outside of conflict, I can instead utilize my ties to the Weave to grant boons to those who fight."
I perked up. "Ooh! I have plenty of spells for that!"
Creccoth nodded. "Then we're in agreement. As this is in a swamp, I fully expect mud, filth, and general uncleanliness."
Astarion raised his hands. "Well darlings, with such expectations I find myself forced to bow out. Have fun!" He smiled, but his eyes flickered with unease. "Let me know if we get to kill something in more sanitary environs."
"Chk. I do not fear dirt. If I did, I would get nothing done on this pebble," Lae'zel scoffed. "I eagerly await the chance to regain face lost against those phase spiders."
I cringed. "You fought what?"
Shadowheart shook her head. "Never you mind. It's over and done." There was a surprisingly gentle tone to her admonition this time. She thought, and hefted her new shield. "I think I would like to test these. I can tell the weapon is strong, and the shield and armor empower me. It will be an experience to fight with relics from the Netherese ages."
"Ooh! Ooh! Me? ME? ME!" Karlach waved a hand excitedly. Her new blade let out puffs of smoke, resonating with its former host.
Wyll held his hands up. "As much as I'd like to partake, if Karlach insists I will gracefully yield," he demurred with a chuckle.
Gale winced. "Even after a few nights recovery, I still ache from that encounter. I must regretfully abstain."
Creccoth nodded. "Very well. Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae'zel- with me. Torius, you and the rest hold back at the village."
Okay, sure. They've got gear, it should be fine. Right?
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Creccoth
The four of you observe what was once a swamp. 'Was' being the operative word.
The staff fits in your hand, and the rays of flame you channeled through it were surprisingly some of the less disruptive effects. No, the charred hellscape before you was mainly the work of Karlach and her 'Toasty'.
What remains of a Wood Woad crumbles with a wisping sigh.
A quartet of Mud Mephits, small implike earth elementals, hover near a large stumplike growth. Fire encroaches closer to them with each moment.
"I would wager what we're looking for is in there. True?" Shadowheart turns to you.
"Most likely," you agree.
"And that fire would not be useful in obtaining what we're searching for?"
Karlach swings 'Toasty' once more, shearing through the Woad's sibling. A shield tumbles from its grasp onto the ground, where the fire washes over it. The blade's engine roars its victory. "YEAAAAAAH! FUCKIN' CRY ABOUT IT!" As does its wielder.
Shadowheart lets out a huff of exasperation and raises the morningstar in her grip. With a twist of her wrist and sharp utterance, water sluices from thin air, creating a fire-break between Karlach and the deformed tree-object. Fire licks at it, but the air itself seems to rebuff it.
The mephits begin to separate, something like hope in their demeanor.
Lae'zel's leap, maul over her head, puts paid to those hopes. The weapon gleams in the low light, head streaming sparks of electricity. With one strike, a mephit goes careening into the muddy water on the far side of the isle, its death burst only managing to trigger once submerged. A second sideways swipe sends another directly into the fire, where the eruption of dampened soil brought by its expiration aids in banking the flames further.
With a quick twist of your staff, a cyclone of bladed weaponry springs into existence. The two remaining mephits, close as they are to each other, are immediately snared and sheared down.
The last thought in your mind as the combat decisively ends is that it is very fortunate that Lae'zel is unafraid of dirt.
The death throes of the two lingering mephits coat Lae'zel in a thick layer of mud. She is unharmed, but the sight of her blinking through the mask of earth forces you to stifle an abrupt laugh, lest you be the next target of her new weapon.
With a twist of will, the daggers you conjured fade. Not so the small flames that continue to bake the swamp into ceramic beneath your feet.
Karlach pats Toasty's engine. "Good girl." She sheathes it with a wide grin. "Gods, this is going to be so. Much. Fun!"
Tootsie's head breaks the ground, bow untouched by dirt or flame. "You lot done, then?"
"We are," you reply.
Tootsie's lip curls, showing her fangs. "Feckin' good for ye then." It seems the incredibly strange, unidentifiable accent has come back again. It seems to be a mishmash of whatever seems the most uncouth and/or violent - roughneck, perhaps - that would come to one's mind. To be honest, you find yourself quite curious. Why the discrepancy?
"So… the. Accent?" Shadowheart raises an eyebrow.
"Wot."
"Exactly. What is it? Netherese? Somewhere else from back then?" You add your voice to the chorus as Lae'zel focuses on scrubbing the impromptu mud-pack from her face.
Karlach does a little happy dance, entranced with her new weapon.
Tootsie's gimlet gaze locks on your own. "Not many bold enough to question, so I'll humor you. Common's my second language, so I go with whatever sounds funniest. You two-leg shitstains flap lips for minutes when five seconds ought be all you need."
"Five se-"
The sound that comes from the badger's throat is like nothing you ever heard. It's a high-pitched hiss, a growl, a shriek. It rattles your bones and curdles your marrow. Gratefully, you register that it indeed only lasts five seconds.
"Means 'fuck off and die', and then some." Tootsie gives you a sharp nod. "Also, you left Our Torius unattended for too long with no one inclined to curb him."
At that, you pause. "...and?"
"You never did tell him that village was under a goblin occupation, did you?"
Oh. Oh dear.
____________________________________________________________________________
Astarion
"You know, Godless, I feel like this was an excellent bonding experience!"
"Indeed. Perhaps some day this village will be rebuilt."
You observe the archivist and (confirmed) cleric as they sift through the ashes of what was once a blighted village.
"Personally I prefer ice, but one should always work with their partners in harmony, right? Those Flame Strikes were a thing of beauty, I say! And Gale's almost re-mastered Fireball, glory to him."
You honestly feel compelled to agree. The sea of flames the three loosed upon the village didn't even leave a chance for its occupants to cry for help, let alone fight back.
"It's a shame Shadowheart didn't come along. You seem to like her?"
"She reminds me of a… younger, less worldly version of myself. I would not see her make my mistakes. Perhaps there are gods worthy of loyalty, but the record of those I pledged myself to fell somewhat short. If she does not speak her divinity's name aloud, one wonders who she serves."
"Right, right. Ooh, bones! Is there… ah! Jawbone! I'll keep this; Gale will be able to make use of it when I give him this scroll later."
"What scroll?"
"Maw of Chaos!"
The name itself sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "And why not use it yourself?" you ask.
Wyll looks up from where he is coaching a surprisingly calm deep gnome through where he may have left his backpack. "Let me guess: it's for wizards and/or sorcerers only," he remarks. He ran out of juice two fireballs in, and was left to sulk at your side after. Warlocks may have eldritch blasts on tap, but they simply lacked the staying power of more traditional mages.
Stamina issue. Shame.
Gale hobbles out of a smoldering wreck with a sigh of relief. "And the books are mostly safe. Abhorrent as the man may have been, his knowledge of Necromancy is not something lightly discarded."
"Always good to see a man with priorities," you say with a fanged grin. You were left on 'observation' duty by the badger, and the dog seems content to sit near you and sniff the air. Plenty of cooked meat, nothing edible. Poor thing.
"Erm. Are you ruffians going to extort me, or may I leave?" The gnome raises one of his over-large hands.
"We'll send you on your way once we've gotten you some supplies. If there isn't enough here, I'll give you some potions and rations. Including a good few invisibility potions; you really don't seem like a fighter." Torius flashes him a grin. "Though you are rather cute."
"Cute? Good sir, whatever my stature may lead you to believe, I am a grown man!" Though with the pitch his voice hit, you could believe otherwise.
"That's… the point?" Torius makes a show of moving his eyes slightly up, then down. "Hel-lo."
It occurs to you that the shock of the 'brave new world' post-Netheril has worn off, and either you or Creccoth should make a definitive move before Torius inflicts himself on someone wholly unprepared. Or you could try to snare both. Both suits your plan best.
Well, he's hardly your first virgin. Given his disposition you may even attend in spirit as well as body. Mostly. It's a sacrifice, but hardly an unwilling one. And at worst, Creccoth looks like a man who knows what he's about. Especially with that kiss earlier…
And your train of thought is immediately derailed by: "Astarion, are you jealous enough to jump my bones yet!?"
Oh. Oh the sweet lamb. "Try harder, darling!" you coo with a grin.
Poor thing must be pent up something fierce.
"We're back, we've got letters regarding Cloakwood usurping the gro… Lady of Shadows preserve us."
Not something you'd expect a Sharran to say, but this truly is a strange world you live in.
"Torius? What did you do?" Creccoth manages to loom over the lad with alacrity.
"She helped!" Torius chirps, smiling brightly as he flings Godless under the metaphorical wagon.
To her credit, she takes the betrayal with aplomb. And a quiet, dainty wave. With smoking fingertips.
Creccoth takes a deep breath, and you observe the badger give him the most smug look such an animal can produce.
"Wait. Lady of Shadows? Shadowheart, you serve Shar?" Wyll gives the cleric a concerned look.
Shadowheart, already pale at the destruction, freezes. She slowly places a hand over her mouth.
"It seems 'shady cleric' truly is an appropriate appellation, then!" you chirp sadistically. "You really do fit in with the rest of us, darling!"
Torius nods like a raggedy doll. "She does!" Oh, lamb.
Shadowheart gives a slow exhale and drops her hand. "I truly don't know what I expected," she murmurs in a defeated tone.
Karlach skips past her after a hearty clap on the back, and Lae'zel says nothing- utterly unbothered.
You notice the githyanki trailing crusted earth, but decide not to comment.
Godless… remains silent. Observing Shadowheart, but neither speaking nor (openly) judging.
"Shadowheart, we won't make a fuss if you don't. And on that note: Grove, Kagha, Zorru, Goblins." Creccoth pauses. "Torius?"
"Yessir?" The archivist looks up at him with a faint light of adoration.
"You're staying at my side for the foreseeable future." Creccoth glowers downwards.
The gnome still appears to be in shock.
"Do we have a new traveling companion?"
"Barcus Wroot, no, thank you for getting me down from the windmill, and good day." The minute man snatches a pack that somehow just appeared, and stumbles down the road.
Torius watches him leave. "Oh, we're definitely meeting him again."
The laughter that wrenches itself from your lungs is entirely expected.
…perhaps you can make your offer at camp tonight. To both of them. The clearing you found isn't that far, after all.
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- Location
- Who knows?
Pfffttt hahaha Lae'zel and her reaction to being shot down is great. Mountainous indeed.
Also I love your Creccoth, pretty hear the narrators monologs for Durge whenever he's the PoV. Astarion also continues to be spectacular. I see the massive piggy bank Torius has access to has greatly increased his tolerance for altruism. (I remember being shocked at him approving of giving food to a refuge in act 3. Then again most players ought to be swimming in gold by then)
Also I love your Creccoth, pretty hear the narrators monologs for Durge whenever he's the PoV. Astarion also continues to be spectacular. I see the massive piggy bank Torius has access to has greatly increased his tolerance for altruism. (I remember being shocked at him approving of giving food to a refuge in act 3. Then again most players ought to be swimming in gold by then)
- Location
- New Zealand
Torius: "I'm an avid fan of mountain-climbing."
Halsin: Exists.
Torius: ...."Oh, that's just not fairrrrr...."
(Although, I wonder if the issue with Halsin and Torius connecting might actually be on Halsin's end, he doesn't really do a deep emotional connection. So, an EXCELLENT one night stand for Torius and then good friends, perhaps?)
Halsin: Exists.
Torius: ...."Oh, that's just not fairrrrr...."
(Although, I wonder if the issue with Halsin and Torius connecting might actually be on Halsin's end, he doesn't really do a deep emotional connection. So, an EXCELLENT one night stand for Torius and then good friends, perhaps?)
Blinktwice13
Underpaid Struggle Bus Attendant
- Location
- Eastern US
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'll write up the magic items handed out in this chapter tomorrow, but Creccoth's staff is essentially a +Casting Stat stick with 'learn spells like a Wizard' stacked on. In his case, as he is a Charisma caster, he now has a +10 Charisma staff. So a net +5 to DCs, Spell Attacks, Skill Checks...
And since Mystra's rules (5e) are in effect, he just gets a flat two extra slots of every level he can cast. This goes up to 9th level, which is well above what Mystra intended but she can deal. (As of this chapter he can cast 3rd level spells. The party is level 5 between killing a cambion on the Nautiloid and Ethel happening.)
Halsin isn't aromantic, just very polyamorous. As Creccoth and Torius are already forming a triad with Astarion, there will
- Location
- USA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Out of curiosity, do those two extra slots break the normal 4 slot limit per level? Even if it's not (theoretically) uncapped like it is in Pathfinder, a flat +2 that breaks the cap would still be as good as, if not better than anything less than stacking your casting ability to a (pretty far into Epic level play) value of 45, on the upper end. Well, you'd outpace the benefit on lower level spells much sooner, but not on those 9th level spells, which is where the real power's at.
Speaking of 9th level spells though, it does make me wonder if Torius will ever feel the need to really strut his stuff by breaking out the Miracles. Then again, in a setting where the god aren't dead like the one I mostly played in, casting Miracle does have a whole lot more strings attached.
- Location
- New Zealand
Torius: "Hey Jergal, do me a solid will you? Kill them"
Jergal: "Very well, fates spins along as it will" *Knows full well that Torius can kill them regardless
Torius: "Thanks buddy, call that 10 years off the 1000 year debt (of paperwork).
Oh that was more a comment on the... intensity of the three, compared to Halsin. Like, they seem the ride or die, with you til the end (of you or me) sort of throuple.
Side note: "I personally kept my fingers crossed they wouldn't abuse the staves in particular" - Considers what it would take to have a Staff of Power effect on each.... yikes.
Oh my god I can't breathe, everyone is horny and I love it!