#The Ballad Of Paladin
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(via 1962 HITS ARCHIVE: The Ballad Of Paladin - Duane Eddy)
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In all the love songs Keith has heard (and he’s heard many, both his Pa and Shiro were big ballad fans), he’s always heard laughter described as angelic.
That’s how it is. Over and over again. When you fall in love with someone, when cupid’s arrow strikes, their laughter will be like musical bells, like windchimes, melodic and beautiful and entrancing, and you will never want to hear anything else.
Lance sounds like a hyena on crack when he laughs.
Keith is obsessed with it.
The love ballads got one half of it right, he supposes. He does shut the fuck up and listen when Lance laughs. It is like the only sound he can hear.
It’s just not…musical.
“Your sighs get any dreamier and he’s going to hear you,” Shiro says idly, colouring his nails with Sharpie.
Keith drops his chin from his hands, turning away from where he was watching Lance laugh with Hunk and Allura and scowling at his asshole brother. “He is not.”
Shiro snickers, not even bothering to look up. Keith wonders if it’s morally acceptable to smack the shit out of someone with only one arm, or if Shiro will call foul and convince everyone that Keith is somehow the asshole here.
“Is so. You’re so besotted that even I’m embarrassed for you, and I usually just laugh when you’re being humiliating.”
Keith decides that the potential reputation tarnishing is worth it.
“Ow!” Shiro cries, clutching his flesh arm with way more drama than necessary. “My arm!” He glances over at the scattered stares he receives, from various uniformed officers, and pitches his voice louder to get more attention. “My only remaining human arm!”
“Keith, stop trying to kill your brother,” Coran admonishes. “He’s sensitive.”
Shiro shoots him the tiniest smirk before returning to his fake pout. Keith’s jaw drops in indignation. “Wh — he antagonized me — it’s not my — Coran!”
Coran only raises his eyebrows. “Is there a problem, Number Three, or shall I get your mother involved?”
Pidge makes an obnoxious oooooooooh sound, wiggling her eyebrows at him, because she and Shiro are the worst, actually, and for good measure Coran is too.
“I hate this family,” Keith mutters, sinking into his seat. “All of you suck.”
“Okay, emo boy,” Shiro says patronizingly.
Unfortunately, Iverson walks in and starts the Atlas briefing before Keith can smack him again. He settles for glaring at his dumbass brother, who sticks his tongue out at him like the toddler he is, and then vows to pay attention to the meeting. He is the black paladin, after all.
He lasts four whole minutes.
It’s not his fault. If anything it’s Iverson’s fault. The meeting is boring as hell, and a quick glance around the meeting table shows that the only person paying attention is the note-taking robot Pidge made, and that doesn’t even count ‘cause it’s a robot. Several senior officers are outright sleeping. The MFE pilots are quietly passing around a game of dots. Hunk has blatantly pulled out an engineering project of his and is working on it in full and total view of Iverson (he still hates the man for what he did to Lance when they were cadets, claiming that since Lance has forgiven him, someone needs to hold a grudge). Pidge and Matt seem to be communicating in Morse code. Allura is directing her mice in some kind of acrobatic performance, and Coran is helping her. Shiro is trying to see how many spitballs he can land on Iverson’s blind side before he notices (he’s riding the line with 34). Lance is staring at Keith.
Lance is staring at Keith?
He startles when he meets Lance’s brown eyes, but Lance only smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave. Keith tilts his head in confusion, trying to wordlessly ask Lance why he’s staring, and also manage to keep his rapidly creeping blush under control.
(He likes it when Lance stares at him).
Lance squeezes his eyes shut instead of answering, and a moment later Keith feels a prodding in the back of his mind; a familiar presence, hot and fiery and all-encompassing.
Red.
He lets her in, lets her familiar feeling envelop his mind. She struts primly in his mindscape, nosing at Black as if to say I was here first, so just remember who’s boss.
Black lets her prance around with fond amusement.
Before Keith can ask her why she’s pushed her way through — not that he minds, he’s happy to have her, but she hasn’t felt the need to visit him in a while so he’s curious — he feels another presence almost knock on his subconscious, request access to his mindscape.
Red has…brought someone else?
Can she do that?
Red looks at him flatly, like his doubt is a personal offence. Before she can start admonishing him, the presence pushes again; not urgent, but insistent, almost as if someone is knocking on the door of Keith’s mind and doesn’t want to be ignored.
Beyond curious, Keith lets them in.
The second Keith opens his mental door, it’s like they rush in, flowing in like the white rapids of a river, strong and fast and excited, cool and bubbly. There’s so much of them that it takes Keith a good couple of minutes to conceptualise just who exactly has followed Red into Keith’s mind. The rushing water takes shape into a person; tall, gangly, broad-shoulders with a mop of curly brown hair and bright brown eyes, freckles spotted over their nose and grin wide and sparking.
Keith gapes.
“Lance?!”
“Is everything alright, Kogane?”
Keith blinks open his eyes to find the entire meeting table staring at him, expressions ranging from confused to knowing to outright teasing. He realises all of a sudden that he’s spoken aloud, and not only spoken but called Lance’s name out, loudly, for seemingly no reason, in the middle of a crowded meeting.
His face flames.
“All is well,” he chokes out. “Please carry on.”
Iverson narrows his eyes at him for a moment, but eventually shakes himself and continues. Keith stays bright red for several minutes, staring pointedly down at the table, ignoring the various sniggers he can hear with every ounce of his effort. Unfortunately, some of the teasing laughter is inside his actual literal brain, what the fresh fuck, so it’s a fruitless endeavour.
Are you still freaking out? the Lance inside his head (???) asks.
What in the gall brained fuck is going on, Keith thinks back at it, looking at Real Lance in a decent mix of panic, confusion, and the actual phonetic sound that an exclamation point mixed with a question mark makes in your brain. Real Lance has his eyes closed, brows creased in concentration, and the tiniest of smirks pulling up at his lips.
Close your eyes and meditate, doofus, Mind Lance tells him. I’m using a lot of energy right now so I don’t have the space to try and reign you up here.
Despite the fact that Keith is so confused that a thousand professors could not explain his current situation to him in any way that makes sense, he listens, closing his eyes tightly and visualizing his physical bond with Black, like he does when he flies. It helps him sink into the semi-astral plane of existence, usually so he can meld with his lion and the rest of the team when they’re forming Voltron, but whenever he’s trying to reach his own mindscape, too. He’s still aware of his physical body, he’s not quite projected out of it, but he’s not wholly in it, either. Most of his essence is focused on seeing as his mind sees, without the constraints of the physical plane.
“Took you long enough,” Lance huffs.
“What the fuck,” Keith responds.
He packs quite a lot of questions into that what the fuck, he thinks. Like ‘what the fuck are you doing here’, for starters. Or ‘what the fuck just happened with the water and Red and everything else’, if he wants to be specific. Or, if he really just wants to cover everything, ‘what the fuck is happening’ might just do it.
“Your internal monologue fascinates me,” Lance informs him.
Keith flushes. (Does he flush in his mindscape? Does he have the blood and physical body necessary in order to flush? Or is he just embarrassed, so his perception of himself is blushing because that’s the only way he knows how to conception use the feeling? God, Voltron magic shit is so weird. Keith lowkey misses mapping energies alone in the desert and wondering if he was delusional.)
“Stop hearing my internal monologue,” he orders.
Lance pouts. “You’re no fun. I want to hear all the juicy gossip you think about me because you’re too emotionally stunted to say it.”
Lance is only joking, Keith knows he is. He’s leaned forward slightly, like he always does when he’s teasing, and his smile is close-mouthed, unserious.
But Keith of course panics anyway.
A million snapshots of Lance flash through his mind — Lance laughing, head thrown back, barely holding himself up; Lance dancing around the briefing room at two in the morning as he plans a mission; Lance with his tongue stuck out of his mouth, concentrating hard on tiny knitting needles and tiny little mouse-sweaters; Lance with tears shining in his eyes, glancing at a projection of Earth, long before they finally made it home; Lance dirty and hurt, cradled to his chest as Keith runs him too a pod after Sendak. A thousand moments of Lance when Keith was fondest of him, when just looking at him made the ballads Keith grew up with play in his head.
He hurries to shove the memories in an obscure corner of his head and prays that Lance doesn’t see them.
“Can you actually hear my thoughts,” Keith asks, a little desperately.
Lance waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. I get emotional impressions, but that’s about it. I can’t even see anything in here expect you and Red, basically. And Black. Hi, Black!” He waves excitedly to the lion, who sits regally in the dead centre of Keith’s mindscape. She turns to the red paladin in amusement, nodding her head once. Lance beams.
Keith feels a rush of fondness for him so potent it makes his heart hurt, a little.
“Woah,” Lance says, looking at him a little wide-eyed. “I felt that, Willie Nelson. Holy softie.”
“How and why are you here,” Keith says, blatantly changing the subject and not giving even one single shit about being subtle about it. Lance is looking at him too closely.
Luckily, Lance indulges him, or is too excited about being here in general to resist talking about it.
“Isn’t it so cool?” he gushes. “I’ve been working on it with Red for ages! I figured since we all have that emotional bond with each other and the lions during Voltron, and we keep our lion bonds outside of Voltron, we should be able to communicate with each other outside of Voltron, too. Red wasn’t sure if it was possible but she helped me try, and I figured I’d try with you first because it would be the easiest, since we’re so close and all. And you’re more likely to let me in your head.”
He says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s obvious that they are so close, and that Keith loves him so much that he wouldn’t mind Lance in his head, not really.
The worst part is that he’s right.
With anyone else, this would feel like an invasion of space. Keith would be defensive immediately, angry even, throwing them right the hell out of his head and yelling at them as he does it.
But with Lance?
He’s a little shocked, sure. And worried, that Lance is going to see all the parts of him that Keith isn’t ready yet to show him; the parts that he doesn’t yet know how to say, how to show. The parts of Keith that soften every time Lance smiles at him, the parts that light up with gleeful competition whenever Lance eggs him on, the parts that chafe and ache but smooth over when Lance sits with him quietly when he’s hurting.
Keith knows that Lance knows that he loves him. He doesn’t exactly hide it. He’s not sure he would, even if he could.
But he’s not ready to tell him. Not yet.
He takes a deep breath. (Or whatever the mindscape equivalent is).
He knows Lance won’t go looking.
“And you decided to pull this telepathy shit in the middle of a random meeting?” Keith teases, allowing some of the worry to slip away.
This is, after all, cool as shit, even if it’s weird.
“It’s not an important meeting!” Lance defends. “It’s boring, and I needed entertainment! Besides, Pidge’s bot will give us all the notes anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah. Slacker. Some right hand man you are.”
Keith spends the rest of the dead-boring meeting teasing and chatting with Lance in his mindscape, which is great because he both gets to mess with Lance, which is always a net positive, because he has the upper hand in his own head, and because he gets to look like he’s paying attention in the meeting and actually be completely checked out.
“Oh, hey, I think the meeting’s ending,” Lance says. “I can hear Iverson winding down a bit.”
“Time to get out of my head then, you squatter?”
Lance rolls his eyes, waving to Red to get her attention. She stalks over, nosing him in the head like a mother cat to her kitten. Lance bats her away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll head out. But only because I’m not practiced enough at this thing, so if I stay in your head it’ll look like I’m frozen or something. Once I figure out how to look normal and still beam my thoughts into your head, you’re never going to be without me even once in your life.”
Lance is teasing again. Keith can tell. But still, he’s totally helpless to stop what comes out next.
“I’d be okay with that.”
He sounds so besotted he wants to smack himself. But before he can even have the space to be embarrassed, he feels a wave of emotions that aren’t his — Lance’s, from the other end of their connection, a mix of embarrassment and selfish pleasure so thick that Keith can feel it even though they’re in Keith’s mindscape.
His jaw drops.
Lance wants Keith’s undivided attention. He’s preening over it.
“I gotta go,” Lance says hastily. “Uh, meeting ending and everything.”
Before Keith can so much as stop him, he feels the same strange feeling as before, the cool, rushing water of a river, only this time it’s flowing out of of his head rather than into it. Lance has retreated hastily from his mindscape, and Red follows, much slower and much more smug, visibly laughing at her paladin.
When Keith opens his eyes again, Lance is bright red, and won’t meet his eyes.
Keith smiles. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s not quite ready to spill his guts.
———
part two
#okay idk what the fresh fuck this is but it’s fun so#vld#voltron#keith#keith kogane#lance#lance mcclain#klance#pre klance#pining keith#pining lance#shiro#takashi shirogane#broganes#shithead shiro#teasing#team as family#post canon#fluff#bamf lance#smart lance#keith & red#keith & black#black paladin keith#red paladin lance#my writing#fic#longpost#whipped keith#whipped lance
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So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?
Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.
If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.
Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's.
Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.
What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).
On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.
Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.]
Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like?
Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.]
Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.]
Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you.
Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures.
Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]
The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.
Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again?
Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.]
Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.
Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]
She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.
Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.
Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.]
Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess.
Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.]
Player: My pleasure. He had it coming.
Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same.
Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.]
Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything.
Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved.
Player: Hopefully he'll be the last.
Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.
Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin.
Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side.
Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.
If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:
Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.]
Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won.
Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.]
Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out.
Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]
Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth.
Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]
Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin.
Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same.
Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.
So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.
And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.
Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:
Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse?
Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.
Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]
Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness.
Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]
Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.
Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break your OoV.
#sorry this took so long!#baldur's gate 3#bg3#dame aylin#isobel thorm#lorroakan#datamine#voice lines#audio#i'm stopping myself here but i could go on about this FOREVER#time for the comfort part of the hurt/comfort let's goooooooooo#oathkeeper replies to things
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you've mentioned the saints and the churches a bit, do you think they have hymns and songs?
I do, yeah! Hymns and songs are such a big part of worship, it would be hard for them not to have them.
The two big churches I've done worldbuilding for are Order of Remembrance, and Saint of Blood and Steel, and both of them would make use of music.
The OR would use it as a tool for memorization, both for names and people, as well as poetry and song from cultural icons. They have a lot of poets, songwriters and historians decorating their church, and I feel like memorizing their works through hymns would be a feature of their weekly services.
For SBS, the Saint is primarily concerned with acts of heroic bravery tied to their paladins. Many enterprises taken on by their paladins are turned into ballads, battle hymns, and epic poetry [and I figure it's the epic poetry that got Helsknight started on his own poems]. They would also probably make use of marching songs, and other team building chants, and their blacksmiths would use chants for timing swings [an act of service for SBS involves helping the blacksmiths forge, and having someone give you a beat to swing to helps.]
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Prompt: Paladin (Discord Drabble)
Eddie stops, foot halfway out of the bathroom, and frowns. He secures the towel around his middle, water dripping from him. He was going to fetch the towel he uses on his hair – which Steve chides him for using because it makes his hair frizz too much... or something.
But first, he needs to find out why his boyfriend is listening to his uncle's Old Man radio station and singing along The Ballad of Paladin. A song he only knows because it was in Stand by Me, which they went two towns over to see last month with Dustin. The kid sobbed like a baby most of the way through it.
"Steve..."
He watches as Steve taps his foot to the rhythm, muttering along to the words too as he flips a page of The Hawkins Post, presumably reading the local sports section.
"Paladin... paladin... far from hooommme."
Eddie rolls his eyes and steps closer, raising his voice.
"Steve!"
Steve calmly turns his head and smiles, "Yeah?"
Eddie gestures to the radio – he'll chance dropping his towel in order to prove a point.
"What the hell are you listening to?"
Steve shrugs.
"Wayne left it on. Besides, I like this song," he smiles, eyes growing brighter as he sets the newspaper on his lap, "Y'know, like a Paladin from Dungeons and Dragons?"
Eddie pinches his nose and huffs.
Goddamn it, he is more than a little impressed with that one...
"Yes... but..."
He trails off, distracted by the sound of brass bugles and a fiddle.
#this one might be a little flimsy *crawling my way to writing one a day for a week#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#stwgdailyprompt#lilys drabbles
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Could you do some headcanons for Xenk Yendar with a bard s/o who lives in the same town?
🥰 aww that's so cute
♤ Xenk x gn bard headcanons ♤
He met you when he was relaxing after long day in the main tavern of the city he was riding through.
Your voice captured him into abandoning his drink.
He sits in silence through the whole ballad mouthing the words where he does them
At the the end among clapping he comes up to you and asks if he can buy you refreshments.
Of course you say yes you're being hit on by a gorgeous paladin.
He trues very hard to make small talk but being Xenk he really can't.
Doesn't matter because you agree to ride home with him anyway.
You reveal to him that you to have traveled to the town you were preforming at and right there and then you two decide to travel togther.
From here you two grow close.
Other than his Paladin duties Xena enjoys nature and the arts.
You two spend most of your free time caring for the animals in forests and valleys.
He also intrusts you with many powerful artifacts under his protection.
You've become a highly respected and wanted bard with your new reputation.
Xenk is the sweetest, most caring human alive even if he a bit slow to catch on to things.
Like the time you bought a flying snake and called him your son to just have Xenk say "no love that's a reptile he can't be your son."
Totally serious the poor angel.
But he loves you with everything and he'll make sure you get to play anywhere you want.
You're the only bard not trying to get something for all of you're listeners.
In truth you and Xenk are happy with your simple lives and both live in harmony in your professions.
#dungeons and dungeons#dungeons and dragons honor among thieves#dnd#dnd movie#dnd honor among thieves#xenk the paladin#xenk yendar#xenk yendar x reader
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Who Rules the World- Three
The Longest Promise- Two
Moonlight- Two
Heroes- Two
Joy of Life- Two
Legend of Yun Qian- Two
Stick to the Script!- Two
Oh No! Here Comes Trouble- Two
The Legend of Shenli- Two
Someday or One Day- Two
Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace- Two
My Roommate is a Detective- Two
Royal Rumors- Two
Lighter and Princess- Two
A Dream of Splendor- Two
The Sword and the Brocade- Two
FANDOMS WITH ONE SIGNUP:
A Familiar Stranger
A Murderous Affair in Horizon Tower
Ace Troops
All these Years
An Ancient Love Song
Arsenal Military Academy
Ashes of Love
Being a Hero
Bloody Romance
Blue Whisper (The)
Chinese Paladin 3
Day of Becoming You (The)
Demon Girl
Derailment
Destined
Dong Lan Xue
Duoluo Continent
Eternal Love of Dream (The Pillow Book)
Everyone Loves Me
Fly with You
Gank Your Heart
Go Ahead
Hidden Love
I am Nobody
Imperial Coroner (The)
Journey of Chongzi (The)
King’s Avatar (The)
Knockout (The)
Legally Romance
Legend of Yunxi
Legends (The)
Letter from the Cloud (The)
Long Ballad (The)
Lost Love in Time
Lost You Forever
Love and Redemption
Love in Between
Love is Sweet
Luoyang
Marry my Dead Body
Marvelous Women
Meet Yourself
Murder in Kairoutei (The)
Parallel World
Rebirth for You
Scarlet Heart
Starry Love (The)
Story of Yanxi Palace
Sunshine by My Side
The Disguiser
The Oath of Love
Three Body
Tiger and Crane
Unchained Love
War of Faith
White Cat Legend
Wolf (The)
Wonderland of Love
You are my Glory
Young Blood 1
Youth Memories (The)
If I made any errors in how I listed these, please inform me. Contact info is on our CARRD, or you can just send an ask or DM.
If you’re a creator and you’d like to add a fandom to what you’re willing to do, contact me via one of the communication methods listed on the CARRD FAQ.
-Cdrama Action Team 🍉
#cdramasource#!modpost#the untamed#love between fairy and devil#till the end of the moon#the spirealm#mysterious lotus casebook#romance of tiger and rose#legend of fei#word of honor
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Glorious Anthem
"North and South meet and angels sing. Voices resound with a righteous ring." —"The Ballad of the Paladins"
Artist: Terese Nielsen
TCG Player Link
Scryfall Link
EDHREC Link
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xenk/edgin fics i need
modern au where xenk and edgin play at a dnd table
where xenk heals everyone for 1 hp and edgin for like 60
edgin the bard goes a courtin'
edgin somehow writes the best xenk yendar ballad that tops neverwinter top 40
xenk's paladin pals coming to vet out xenk's new beau
xenk wooing edgin with acts of service
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Note to self, the protagonists' themes should play as a background motif in the bosses that correspond to them
Stolen themes being:
At Hell's Gate (spellbook)
Ballad of Paladin (halberd)
Lots of Little soldiers (warpick)
These themes should also be in the back of areas associated with certain characters or be added to the overworld theme
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˚₊𓆩༺ Protect My Love Till Break of Day ༻𓆪₊˚
Fandom; Baldur's Gate 3 | Pairing; Minthara/Alfira | Rating; General | | Tags; Rare pair, Hurt/comfort | Length; 1.2k | Ao3
Summary; "As the bard continued to scribble on her parchment, the gentle plucking of the lute strings accompanied her in the night. Minthara, leaning against a sturdy tree, gradually relaxed, reassured by the soft melody and the heartfelt words of the novice ballad. She allowed herself to be drawn into the comforting embrace of the night, feeling a sense of peace settle over her troubled thoughts."
Lying next to the crackling campfire, Minthara's eyes remained closed, her mind a whirlwind of tumultuous thoughts. Memories of her capture by the Absolute, the moments she had blindly followed Orin, and the weight of responsibility for the slaughter of the grove weighed heavily on her consciousness. Sweat dampened her skin, and with a heavy sigh, she turned onto her other side, seeking in vain the elusive embrace of sleep, a luxury rarely granted to one burdened by the weight of their past.
As Minthara heard the sound of movement nearby, she slowly opened an eye, immediately noticing Alfira, the party's resident bard, stealthily sneaking away with her lute in hand. Suspicion gnawed at the drow, and with a dagger clutched firmly in her hand, she silently followed after the overly cheery tiefling.
Despite the darkness, tracking Alfira was relatively easy, and Minthara found herself not too far behind. Finally reaching her destination, the drow observed as the bard sat on the edge of a nearby cliff, gazing up at the stars. Holding her breath, Minthara listened intently to the tiefling's work-in-progress ballad, her curiosity piqued and her guard still firmly in place.
"Oh shining star, in skies so far, Grant thy grace, keep nightmares... Ugh," Alfira's voice trailed off in frustration, followed by a soft sigh and some muttered words to herself. But soon, a triumphant note returned to her voice as she resumed singing:
"Oh shining star, in skies so far,
Grant thy grace, keep nightmares char.
In dreams where shadows dance and play,
Protect my love till break of day."
As the bard continued to scribble on her parchment, the gentle plucking of the lute strings accompanied her in the night. Minthara, leaning against a sturdy tree, gradually relaxed, reassured by the soft melody and the heartfelt words of the novice ballad. She allowed herself to be drawn into the comforting embrace of the night, feeling a sense of peace settle over her troubled thoughts.
As Alfira worked through another verse, the song continued to take shape, the soft melody weaving a sense of comfort through the night:
"With gentle light and soothing gaze,
Banish fears in moonlight's haze.
Whisper peace through endless night,
Chase away the demons' fright."
Minthara, having decided it was an opportune moment to reveal her presence, carefully shuffled the leaf litter underneath her, causing it to crack softly as she approached the bard.
Alfira turned toward the source of the sound, her eyes widening as she recognized Minthara. A faint blush painted her cheeks, and she greeted the drow with a warm smile. "Oh, Minthara," she exclaimed, the surprise soon giving way to genuine pleasure at the drow's arrival.
The paladin settled next to the bard, drawn in by the beauty of the melody. "That was quite beautiful. What is it about?" Minthara inquired, her tone gentle and curious.
Nervously, Alfira rubbed her hand against the smooth wood of her lute, her cheeks flushing with a deeper shade of red. "Oh, just um," she stumbled, clearly flustered. "I'm wishing someone I care about sweeter dreams. Life has not been kind to her," she explained, her fingers plucking a few more soft notes before she gently set her instrument aside.
As the two sat next to each other, the bard attempted to inch closer, her hand brushing against the paladin's. Minthara initially paid no mind to the first touch, but as Alfira's hand brushed against her again, the drow turned her gaze toward the bard.
Alfira, seemingly absorbed in studying the stars above, appeared to be deliberately avoiding the drow's gaze.
"I want to hear you play once more," Minthara requested, surprising Alfira. The drow's unexpected interest in hearing her play was enough to catch the bard off guard, considering Minthara's previously known indifference toward bards and music.
Alfira reached for her lute once more. Her fingers danced across the strings as she began to sing,
"Oh shining star, in skies so far,
Grant thy grace, keep nightmares char.
In dreams where shadows dance and play,
Protect my love till break of day.
With gentle light and soothing gaze,
Banish fears in moonlight's haze.
Whisper peace through endless night,
Chase away the demons' fright.
Guide her through the realm of dreams,
Where darkness reigns, where nothing gleams…"
The bard paused abruptly, her nerves evident as she glanced nervously from the drow to her lute. "Uh, that's all I have so far," she admitted, brushing a stray hair from her face. Vulnerability in her voice.
Minthara couldn't help but smile as she observed the bard's behavior and contemplated the lyrics of Alfira's latest song. The paladin had a sneaking suspicion that the song was inspired by her recurring nightmares and the way she tossed and turned in her sleep. However, Minthara chose not to press the nervous woman any further, respecting her privacy.
Deciding to stand, the drow stretched her limbs before turning to leave. As she began to move away, Alfira suddenly grabbed her hand, her eyes filled with anxiety and anticipation. The unexpected gesture caught Minthara's attention, and she turned to look at the bard, her curiosity piqued.
Alfira felt herself melting under Minthara's gaze, her heart quickening as she spoke, "Let's go back to camp. Maybe we can share a bottle, if you're not ready to sleep, that is." Her voice carried a hopeful note, an unspoken invitation laced with anticipation.
Meeting the tiefling's gaze, Minthara felt a spark of mutual attraction flicker between them. The warmth of their joined hands further accentuated the budding connection as they made their way back to the camp. Stealthily acquiring a bottle of wine, they settled outside Minthara's tent, sharing the drink as they engaged in a candid and open conversation.
Alfira spoke about her experiences traveling with the grove, recounting her narrow escape from the goblin attack, including Tav's unconscious attempt on her life. Minthara listened intently, her curiosity piqued by the bard's tales. In a rare moment of vulnerability, the drow found herself opening up to the bard, sharing fragments of her own past and the circumstances that led her to become entangled with the Absolute. However, she conveniently left out the details of her leadership role in the goblin army, carefully crafting her narrative to reveal only what she was willing to disclose.
Alfira's face was flushed the effects of the wine evident as she leaned onto Minthara, seeking the comfort of her warmth. Her fingers traced gentle circles on the drow's thigh, the touch evoking a surprising tenderness from the typically reserved Minthara. Despite her usual guarded demeanor, the paladin found herself allowing the affection, having developed a soft spot for the bard, who had made her feelings abundantly clear.
The subtle intimacy between them hung in the air, the sounds of their companions’ snores and the gentle night breeze creating a cocoon of tranquility around the pair. Unspoken emotions and uncharted desires seemed to dance between them, each moment brimming with unspoken potential.
Minthara hummed the tune Alfira had played, the gentle melody mingling with the peaceful ambiance of the night. The tiefling, now at ease, began to doze off, her head resting softly against the drow's shoulder. As they neared the end of the bottle, the crackling of the fire and the sound of the breeze seemed to lull them both into a quiet, contented slumber.
Thank you for reading :)
This was 100% inspired by Stomes4's fic, I loved it so much and decided there needed to be more Spider's Lyre content!
Writing for a pairing like this is super unusual for me so hopefully nothing reads as awkward <3
I am currently taking F/F requests :p
Divider Credit - @cafekitsune
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Secret Santa gift for my friend @offsidekineticist. Happy Holidays! 💕☃️💕
I hope you know I had to enlist the aid of both Ophenia and Woljif to piece this story together. Oh, that reminds me—(Siavash digs in his vest pocket and produces one silver bracelet, twelve gold pieces and a Chelish noble house signet ring)—with Woljif’s apologies. No questions asked about the ring.
I hope I got the main story beats right enough for art.
The half-orc druid I eventually tracked down in the Aspodell mountains told me Qweck was involved, but even my utmost attempts at diplomacy couldn’t prevent Qweck from slamming the door in my face, so I’m not sure where she fits into the story. There was also apparently a dinosaur? Or a golem made of dinosaurs? Anyway, here it is, as promised.
(He takes a sip of mulled Andoren wine and gives you a wink as he begins.)
🎶 The Ballad of Bellflower Hellfire 🎶
The Devil went down to Cheliax, she was lookin’ for a soul to steal
She was biding her time at the scene of the crime
In a gem that was magically sealed
When Gil came across that necklace, offering vengeance and serving it hot
And the devil grabbed hold of his heart in her claws
And said boy lemme tell you what
I guess you’ll do ‘bout anything to give them slavers their due
And if you vow to serve me now I’ll lend a hand to you
Now you’d make a damn fine Bellflower, boy
All I ask is a soul or two
I’ll bet the slaves you’ll free are worth that fee
And it was true for all he knew
And so the halfling set about with the fury of Hell in his hands
Without a regret started paying his debts
Freed his folk from their iron bands
(Chorus)
Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard
Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards
And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed
But if you lose the devil gets your soul
Twas a rainy night in Brastlewark and Thay sat with his book
And he heard the sound of rustlin’ around and went to have a look
There stood Gil ‘bout to catch a chill
And Thay in his distress, said come on down, you look half drowned
And bundled Gil up good
And thus began the heart-bond ‘tween the halfling and the gnome
In the shadow of Thrune their sweet love bloomed, over cocoa snug at home
(There’s a break with romantic picking, then a shift to an ominous chord)
Til one dark day the news reached Gil that made his heart stop cold
The iron glove of Hell came down and crushed all Gilly’s hope
The Hellknights came, they were taking names, Mister Theo was their prey
Gil shed tears of grief and rage - the Rack had taken Thay
And Gil like Hell’s own vengeance on the wings of dragon black
Rained down on Rivad fury and fire and laid to waste the Rack
The only reclamation that was glorious that day
Was Gil who stormed the citadel and rescued poor dear Thay
(Chorus)
Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard
Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards
And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed
But if you lose the devil gets your soul
Thay in gloom of dungeon hoped for nought but Ph’rasma’s grace
He held his ground, made not a sound as tears fell down his face
The Rack had wrought their cruel work and yet his lips were sealed
All he cared to pray for was an end to his ordeal
When a signifier’s shattered mask was tossed between the bars
And Theo raised his eyes and hope rekindled in his heart
A little short for a Hellknight, Theo said through tears of joy
Though they were trapped within the citadel the righteous would destroy
In a desperate race for freedom the heroes stumbled toward the gates
Paladins and Hellknights laid the citadel to waste
As knights closed round Gil stood his ground o’er Theo’s tortured form
As in his breast the fires of Hell let loose in violent storm
(from this crescendo the tempo slows, becomes soulful)
When Theo felt the heat of Hell and raised his heavy head
And saw that Gil had rescued him but damned himself instead
With failing limbs he lifted up and braved the flames of Dis
To wrestle Gil from the Devil’s grasp and free him… with True Love’s Kiss
(Chorus)
Gilly sharpen up your wits and fight that devil hard
Cause Hell’s broke loose in Cheliax and the devil deals the cards
And if you win you get the peace and freedom that you’re owed
But if you lose the devil gets your soul
---
Note: Modeled after “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels Band
#help i am neither a bard nor a poet (hiding behind my oc)#happy holidays!!#friends' ocs#pwotr pals#giliys#theo#theo & giliys#reading back through the breakup arc to prepare this was SO much fun#what a beautiful story ❤️#i love these two dearly#and qweck who got a bit short changed i'm afraid sorry qweck#Spotify
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Names and Titles Related to Being A Character / Hero in a Story . . .
NAMES ,, Saga , Lyre / Lyra ¹ , Yarn , Tome , Myth , Fable , Quest , Page / Paige , Bleddyn ² , Song , Perceval / Percival / Percy ⁴ , Harp / Harper , Hero , Cassander ² , Story / Storia / Astoria , Clely ² , Lyric , Taliesin , Ballad / Ballade , Corentyn ² , Legend , Rhapsody , Bard , Quill , Poet / Poe , Conlan / Connley ² , Pen / Penn , Cymbre ² , Forever / Ever ³ , Gawain ⁴ , Eternity , Bertille ² , Elysium , Finley / Finlay ² , Uther ⁴ , Blade , Halbert / Halbart / Halberd , Lannie ² , Paladin , Author , Pendragon / Pendraeg ⁴ , Arthur ⁴ , Oberon ⁴ , Lancelot ⁴ .
¹ like a story told in song ; ² meaning hero / heroic or related { i'm not even including all that i've found } , ³ reference to the timeless nature of stories and storytelling ; ⁴ related to Arthurian legend
COGNOMEN* TITLES ,, the {fabled / foretold} hero / heroine , the protagonist , the {young} lover , the dutiful , the regal , the eternal , the undying , the adventurer , the protector , the {righteous} sword / blade / other weapon , the unconquered , the romantic , the valiant {hero / heroine} , the lionheart , the glorious {hero / heroine} , the beacon , the champion , the chivalrous {hero / heroine} .
*meant to be used following a name , but can also be used in isolation ( ex. "hello, foxglove the undying" or "hello, the undying" ) .
SOBRIQUET* TITLES ,, the hero / beloved of [fictional place] , [lord / king / god-king / etc. **] of [fictional place] , the [noun] of great renown , [prn] of the paracosm / paracosmic fantasy , [prn] who is conquered by none .
*meant to be used purely in isolation ( ex. "hello, he of great renown" ) .
**can be terms of any gender or identity .
#O1 : starlight.#names#name list#name help#name ideas#name suggestions#titles#title list#title ideas#title suggestion#title suggestions
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i just binged all of little blade and i am so happy i did, it’s incredible and i adore the characterization and all the world building it’s beautiful. before i go and read all your other fics, i wanted to pop by and ask a silly little question.
in one of the earlier chapters, lotor refers to keith as being extremely attractive by empire standards and i wondered if the paladins (maybe specifically lance lol) ever find out that he is - essentially - a fair representation of the empire’s beauty standard.
just. room full of aliens and lance asks who’s the most attractive and almost the whole room looks at keith. oof.
in a similar vein, when the empire settles down under lotor’s reign with keith as a member of his household, does keith become some kind of muse? the kind where artists fill entire sketchbooks with studies of him, the color of his eyes gets featured in the works of contemporary poets regularly, if it were earth i’d say they stamp his profile on currency, maybe there are statues built? galra mona lisa is a keith portrait.
historians will later state that he was one of the empire’s greatest beauties. earth historians liken him to helen of troy.
all of the paladins are absolutely screaming internally. they have seen keith brush his hair maybe once. he does not care about getting his hands dirty and his nose bloodied. and yet when keith shows up half dressed and streaked with rain to an important function, it becomes a galran fashion trend. why do they even bother getting dressed up is a common lament.
((This is the exceedingly long masterpost from a year ago in which I compiled all the "Keith Kogane is pretty" content I could find, so if you've not given that I read then I'd very much suggest that you do so!))
I do imagine that the paladins would find out eventually, yes! At first they think it's just Lotor's preference, of course—they've already sort of put that together given the the prince's apparent penchant for galra hybrids, combined with all his terribly obnoxious fawning over Keith—but the more time that passes the more obvious it becomes that Keith's Imperial popularity is of the distinctly Romantic sort; whispered anecdotes turn to lengthy ballads that turn to full-blown theatrical productions, all of which praise the sole galra-paladin of voltron with fervent zeal!
#naturally it's not uncommon that any and all members of the imperial household be the subject of art#but it does become rather rapidly apparent that the general public have a particular bias in Keith's favour#Keith himself isn't quite sure how to feel & the paladins range for personally outraged (Lance) to intensely entertained (Pidge)#Lotor of course is not remotely surprised and deems it entirely fitting—after all how could anybody //not// adore the littlest Blade?#Ao3 Little Blade#sa screams back#keith kogane
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Whirling Mummy One-shot
(Art by Sam Mameli)
Have been deathly ill for most of this month, with barely the focus to do anything. So I've been in the dumps.
Last Wednesday I ran a one-shot for my regular TTRPG group, just to feel like I could do something---anything. I didn't have much of a voice. Just a low rasp. So all my characters that night were kinda husky, sultry folks, the kind you might find in a bar.
Apopros to the game, I suppose. I ran the Whirling Mummy, a dance-hall adventure I created for Prismatic Wastelands' ENNIE-winning bar-crawl campaign setting, Barkeep On The Borderlands:
THE WHIRLING MUMMY
Madam Smiling is the never-seen proprietress of The Whirling Mummy, an undead-themed dance hall, named after Madam Smiling's ancient, still-animate consort.
+
Before the Keep, before goblins lived in caves – a goddess cursed a king to dance. He danced all night, he danced all season. He danced and he died. They buried him dancing. He danced in his tomb of jade mosaic. A quake split the Iron Fens, and cracked his tomb, and spat him out dancing.
Tonight, in the mummy's honour: a dance-off! Various crews compete to win their hearts' desire. There has never been a wish Madam Smiling could not grant.
+++
Got my players to make characters using Barkeep's evocative background packages. The party:
Frederick the Foppish Dandy, with a big hat, dueling pistol, and a wealthy fiance called Giorgio ("Georgie!");
Alejandra the Ebullient Dancer, with a tambourine, vial of poison, and her patron the noble chanteuse Lady Gaga;
Melan the Troubled Musician, with a flute, a cymbal-playing pet monkey, and a broken heart.
Serendipitously appropriate, for an adventure featuring a dance contest!
Melan decides they have history with Kril Mouser, leader of the club's musicians.
Ironically, Alejandra spends her whole night off the podium, gassing up the crowd to win over their support.
Frederick ("Freddie!") plays out a rivalry with one of competing dance crews: a trio of voguing toffs.
Freddie ends up being the night's star dancer. "This is the kind of music Frederick plays in his room," his player says:
youtube
+++
I rolled a new event for every turn / round of the dance-off, for maximum shenanigans:
A skeleton flapper loses her head on the dance floor. The Dancer turns that skull into a ball the cheering crowd can bounce around. Poor skelly!
A gang of electric-lute-wielding bards storm Kril Mouser's band stage in an attempt to take it over. Melan spends the round fighting them off, earning the musicians' favour. (Alejandra throws her skeleton skull, knocking a bard out.)
A paladin raid on the club for illegal necromancy. This coincides with the last round of the dance-off; Freddie is too drunk to continue, so Melan takes the stage, and duels Master Mocking Of A Million Eyes, the peacock demon and final boss.
Melan's player describes their dance as "Lizzo with a flute, but while performing a Celine-Dion-like ballad".
This means they beat an eldritch horror with a combination of this:
and this:
youtube
Nice.
+++
So the party won the dance-off. They are entitled to wishes from Madam Smiling.
Frederick asks to be the richest person in the world;
Alejandra wants to retroactively swap places with her patron Lady Gaga;
Melan selflessly asks for land back for the indigenous lizardfolk. (The industrial district in which the Whirling Mummy sits used to belong to the lizard-people; there were lizard nuns handing out pins outside the club.)
I was very pleased with this game. I think it was my first successful, self-contained one-shot? We played for about three hours, and I felt buoyed by endorphins after.
I love my players. Thank you Am, Ai and Vesha for playing with me; you have kept my love for this game stuff alive.
I lost my voice again, the next day.
+++
Final scene, one year later:
Melan is the opening act for a concert by Lady Alejandra, in a city ruled by Prince Frederick the First.
All of this happens a continent away; the city in which Barkeep is set has been totally erased. A trade agreement has been signed with the lizardfolk queendoms, however---and ambassadors report an incongruous-looking dance hall, in the middle of the marsh.
Inside, it is said, a mummy in jade shoes endlessly dances. Inside, it is said, a dance contest is held, and its prize is whatever your heart desires.
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Why I am blocked on Thick as Thieves
Or: Help! I need help! 😫
Okay, you know what? I hear you. I did the NaNoWriMo poll and you folks really want me to finish Thick as Thieves. And like, I get it. So, let me tell you about why I am right now blocked on the story and what stops me from continuing on it.
The answer is short: Xenk. Xenk is stopping me. Or rather... the lack of more official backstory for him is. Or to be even more specific: My lack of knowledge of Faerûn's history is stopping me a bit.
Let me explain.
One of my framing devices for the romance in the story is supposed to be about the "Ballad of Xenk Yendar". Basically: Ed, crushing on Xenk, starts the story out writing this ballad about Xenk. Given what he knows from Xenk himself, he focuses mostly on the tragedy, which Xenk then is not much of a fan of.
The general idea was, that there were going to be four total versions of that ballad, that kinda symbolize Ed getting to know Xenk better. The first one (at the beginning, where they have not interacted since Neverwinter has been saved) focuses on the tragedy, the second one was going to focus on the hero Xenk, the third one on the paladin (mixing both tragedy and hero), and finally the last one on the man that at that point Ed admits to loving.
Soooooo, the next chapter is supposed to feature the second version and herein lies my problem.
I need some good heroic stories about Xenk (that are not played for laughs) that I could write verses for. But I cannot think of any. Because there is no official stuff on him for the most part - but, well...
I am still fairly new to DnD. Like, I have played some DnD, yes, but always with homebrew worlds, never with Faerûn. Sure, like back before 2010 I played the old Baldur's Gate games and Neverwinter Nights, but... Look, I would lie if I said I remembered much more than the general feeling. Like, I for sure do not know anything about the story of those games.
Now, yes, I am very aware that the general rule for worldbuilding in DnD is: "Just make shit up!" Buuuuuut... My brain blocks me on that front on regard of feeling to badly informed. (This is a general hang up of mine, mind you. It is the general reason why I always had a hangup about writing for giant fandoms with lots of lore like Marvel of Star Wars, because I felt there was too much I didn't know.)
Like, by now I have a general feeling for what the Sword Coast looks lke in the late 15th century. Alright. But that does not help me much with Xenk and what his life looked like between "Szass Tam takes over the Thay" and "plot of the movie happens".
So, yeah... This is what is blocking me right now.
And even with all my nerd friends... I somehow do not have a single one who is super into the lore of Faerûn, whose mind I could pick about this.
Soooo, what I am saying is: Say, is there anyone here, who knows a lot of shit about Faerûn and the Sword Coast, so that I might pick their brains for ideas?
Or alternatively: Do you have any great ideas about heroics that Xenk Yendar could've gotten into prior to meeting Ed, Holga and Co.?
#dungeons & dragons#dungeons & dragons: honor among thieves#dnd:hat#xedgin#fanfiction#dnd:hat fanfiction#dnd#faerun#sword coast#lore help#thick as thieves
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