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y-rhywbeth2 · 4 months

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Lore: The Bhaalspawn

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

I decided to compile all of the information I could find/remember on the Children of Bhaal in one place; drawing on the original games, BG3, WotC "canon", and a magazine article written by the writers of the original games meant for playing Bhaalspawn in pen and paper games. There's a surprisingly large amount of information.

Also prodding a bit at the distinction between a Bhaalspawn, as in a quasi-deity, and their tiefling descendants, who are also called by that name.

As with all D&D lore, sources may conflict, but nevertheless, here it is.

There are technically two variants of being that can be referred to as bhaalspawn (three, if we count the Dark Urge as something separate).

The term "Bhaalspawn" is usually applied to a Child of Bhaal, a quasi-deity who has the Lord of Murder for a father. Most are Demigods, born of a mortal parent, although Bhaal has seemingly also produced at least one Titan, who has no mortal lineage at all (hi, Durge). With the exception of that last one, they were all sired before his death during the Time of Troubles. Many, if not most, had Bhaal's priests as their mortal parent - willingly conceived as part of the greater plan to resurrect their god.

As is the norm for half-planar-half-mortals, the offspring of a Child of Bhaal will be of the planetouched (tieflings, aasmiar, genasi). As Bhaal is an evil-aligned god, his grandchildren and descendants are specifically tieflings (or some humanoid equivalent, if they have children with non-humans).

Each Child carries the divine essence of their father, woven into their very being (the god himself specifically derides them as having "borrowed" existences). This divine essence wasn't distributed evenly, and some carried more of Bhaal's taint than others. Some were aware of his influence acting on them from birth, and others never knew what they were until their more powerful and ambitious siblings came knocking to tear their essence out of them.

Being so tied to Bhaal, the souls of his children are inherently tied to him and the Throne of Blood - when they die their essence returns to him and takes their souls with it. A Bhaalspawn can worship another god and receive spells as a divine spellcaster if that deity accepts them, but there is no other afterlife waiting for them except for their father's domain. Specifically, this is the Throne of Blood, a section of Banehold (Bane's domain) which should be on the first layer (Khalas) of the plane of Gehenna (also known as "The Bleak Eternity of Gehenna"). Every single game has placed the Throne of Blood on a different Lower Plane (the Hells, the Abyss, the Grey Wastes), but none have used the one actually given in the tabletop canon, for some reason. Mount Khalas is an active volcano, hundreds of thousands of miles high with slopes of at 45° at their very flattest. The slope is generally more like a sheer cliff face, and falling may "completely shred" the would-be climber. The mountain floats in an infinite void by the border of the Nine Hells. The ground is full of bottomless black chasms and magma flows fed by "waterfalls" of the stuff, and the ground glows crimson from the heat of the molten rock. The air is clogged with pyroclastic ash and it's impossible to see further than a dozen feet in any direction. It also features the River Styx, a river polluted by all the filth and evil of existence that flows through all the Lower Planes. The next layer of Gehenna, Mount Chamada, is visible overhead, glowing faintly, "burning like a small, bloody moon." The spirits of the dead who are sentenced to this plane are those who were consumed by greed and a ruthless and insatiable lust for power in life; in death they are selfishness embodied. The domains of the deities who reside there are carved into ledges on the slopes. Banehold - also known as the Barrens of Doom and Despair - is "an inhospitable locale, filled with vast deserts of black sand and huge plains of dark granite." The sky is blood red and sunless. The only source of water on the plane is the Styx.

Some Bhaalspawn feel the pull of their father's domain so strongly that their soul can be pulled into Gehenna before they die. Should these individuals become sickened or injured enough they will fall into a coma as their connection to life weakens and their soul is dragged into their father's realm in the Lower Planes. It will return to their body once they're healed and that the pull of life is strong enough.

Some Bhaalspawn have reported the ability to "feel" deaths occurring around them, which is also said to be a pleasant experience that calls to them.

Due to their inherently divine nature, every one of them has the latent capacity for sorcery, though not all will manifest it.

It was originally claimed that all the Children perished in the Bhaalspawn crisis, however a small ttrpg supplement published by the writers in a magazine article (meant for playing Bhaalspawn as tabletop characters) claimed that while many died, including all the most powerful of their kind, many "weaker" Bhaalspawn survived the crisis.

There is conflicting information about the free will of these survivors following the foiling of Bhaal's first resurrection. As per the original game's canon, Bhaal's command over them is gone once broken, and these Children were free to act out their lives as they saw fit - bar stuff like the occasional nightmare and inherent urge to go on a killing spree. The power in their blood is their own to repurpose.

Baldur's Gate 2 presented the possibility of a Bhaalspawn being totally cleansed of their father's taint and rendered fully mortal and free of all divine meddling. 5e has retconned this in both tabletop supplements and BG3 canon, and posits that while one of the Children can (seemingly) be unchained from most of Bhaal's control, his divinity is an inherent part of them and they may still become pawns in his designs.

Judging by the first two games it seems that a Bhaalspawn's ability to resist their father's control is related to their own willpower and how tied to death and negativity they are. Being sheltered from death and suffering allows themselves to distance themselves from him, while exposure and harbouring feelings of hatred will destroy the barriers and push them closer.

One of the things Bhaal may try to push his children into doing is interfering with the plans of Cyric, who originally killed him during the Time of Troubles and temporarily usurped him as god of murder.

Bhaalspawn grow in power with age and experience. While signs can start early, by the end of their adolescence they will all have begun manifesting various abilities and signs. What defines "growing in power" is rather nebulous - in game mechanics it's tied to character levels. Technically, a Bhaalspawn could manifest the ability to create supernatural darkness and turn into the Slayer at age 17 and, by the time she's 18, have manifested as much as eleven more powers (and a plethora of dark influences plaguing her to go with them, including an addiction to killing). Or she could go her entire existence never having more than those two traits, a nasty temper, and some horrific nightmares.

Quasi-deities are immortal - ageless and unable to die from natural causes. While theoretically, a Bhaalspawn might not manifest this trait, it would conflict with other established lore on half-deities (because D&D lore loves conflicting with itself). Bhaalspawn immortality tends to kick in at any point in adulthood, at which point their age freezes. They could be in their twenties - and is more likely to manifest at a younger age, but theoretically it could kick in when they're 87 or older.

A Child of Bhaal can usurp their father and take his godhood for themselves: They must prove themselves worthy of being Lord of Murder by deliberately orchestrating a thousand innocent deaths (the method can be anything). They must seek out a portion of their father's flesh. Remnants of Bhaal's slain avatars, such as the remains of the Raveger in the Moonshaes, or traces remaining in the Winding Water from the Time of Troubles are recommended. Bhaal's actual corpse would've been in the Astral Plane, pre-Sundering. What one is meant to do with this chunk of flesh is unspecified. And then one is meant to present themselves for judgement by the overgod Ao, who will decide if they deserve the job. This seems to involve some kind of epic quest in a very dangerous location to prove oneself.

The term "bhaalspawn" also seems to be applied to the tiefling children and descendants of the true Children. Tieflings descended from Bhaal show no outward signs of their heritage the way most other tieflings do, appearing as regular members of their species under physical examination and lacking strange quirks - such as those seen on tieflings descended from the god Mask, who cast no reflections. That said, planetouched descended from deities are known to bear birthmarks in the shape of their divine ancestor's holy symbol, so that might be the exception. Like many of the non-Asmodeus tieflings, they bear the taint of the lower planes in their being, and from birth they often feel it pushing them to bend to their whims. In the case of bhaal-spawned tieflings, these urges would be murder ideation and an obsession with death. God-descended tieflings are no more inherently powerful than the regular kind descended from fiends like devils, demons and night hags.

As with all of the non-Asmodeus tieflings, after the first tiefling grandchild the blood tends to go dormant and hide itself for generations, until it suddenly manifests in a child born to an unsuspecting normal family who is unaware that the taint of the god of murder lurks in their bloodline.

There are various abilities (and side-effects) a Bhaalspawn might manifest. Interestingly, while a Bhaalspawn can manifest the vast majority of them, they will never manifest all the possible powers available to their "family." Meanwhile, the most powerful of them will manifest all of the dark urges and traces of evil that threaten to consume their kind.

There are no rules given for their tiefling descendants. Tieflings have been known to manifest a variety of quirks and spell-like abilities, such as those that have been provided for the Children of Bhaal, it's not unthinkable that their heritage may cause them to manifest one or two of them. Going off of the tiefling creation chart from 2e, a tiefling will randomly manifest one advantage, and one drawback.

So a grandchild of Bhaal might have poisonous blood and be unable to control herself from going berserk from bloodlust in battle. One might heal at an unusually fast rate and give off an aura of death that causes strangers to respond to them like they're a monster. Another tiefling may be able to temporarily boost his strength to impressive levels, but be consumed by the urge to murder.

While only the most powerful manifest every trait, the signs of being a Bhaalspawn include:

The undead can sense a Bhaalspawn if they're within 60ft of each other - so clearly that they can pinpoint their exact location. Even protective magics that should hide them from the undead's senses won't keep them from being aware of their presence, it will only prevent them from being able to know exactly where they're standing. In BG2, a vampire named Phlydian describes it as being able to "smell the murder in [their] heart."

Being around the Children of Bhaal triggers the fight-or-flight instinct and makes others uneasy; they give off an unsettling aura that causes those nearby to subconsciously pick up on them as predatory, and Bhaalspawn have a harder time convincing others to like and trust them. Divination spells that reveal alignment and intention will detect them as evil, regardless of whether they truly are or not.

Bhaalspawn are harmed by holy weapons, and those who are particularly murderous can also be harmed by holy water.

Bhaalspawn blood is black and viscous, and the divine essence within it calls out to the lower planes. A bleeding Bhaalspawn leaves a "scent" that calls to all fiends of the Lower Planes, including devils and demons. Even if it doesn't have the texture and colour, the blood is poisonous. If their blood enters the bloodstream of another being it will immediately cause weakness and fatigue. If the blood is not purged, the individual will weaken into a coma and eventually die. Of course this won't affect beings immune to poison. According to Phlydian vampires find the divine blood of the Children of Bhaal irresistibly "sweet."

They experience chronic, horrific nightmares that are traumatic enough to impair the demigod's daily functioning. These visions can occasionally be resisted through willpower, but not staved off indefinitely.

Bhaalspawn always want to kill, and may lose control of themselves in physical conflict, trying to strike at everything within reach. They struggle to restrain themselves, and limiting attacks to non-lethal damage requires will saving throws. They are reckless in combat, paying attention to little except slaughtering their opponent/s - not even caring about their own safety, The urge to kill can be a fundamental need, If not met, thoughts of murder slowly overwhelms their willpower, thoughts and their awareness of their surroundings, until they're finally driven to kill somebody. This urge cannot be sated by anything except for the murder of a sapient being. (This is similar to the effects of some hungers that affect the undead, causing them to devolve into mindless, feral animals driven by hunger - it may look the same.)

They are possessed by a constant undercurrent of rage, and when humiliated or frustrated they must keep a grip on their anger or slip into a state of violent killing rage not unlike that shown by barbarians in combat - their strength and endurance is greatly strengthened as they attempt to attack the subject of their ire.

They may actually find their sense of free will is innately weaker than that of regular mortals.

They are drawn to the sight of the dying and the dead, and take involuntary pleasure in the sight.

Bhaalspawn are also known to manifest various quirks and spell-like abilities (which they can cast as three times per hit dice/character levels a day. So a level 12 Bhaalspawn with "death knell" can cast it 36 times a day). Again; not every one of them manifests every ability, many will probably never have more than two, but powerful individuals may still manifest most of them.

They are able to boost their strength to impressive or even superhuman levels (depending on base strength) for anywhere between 1-20 minutes.

They are immune to all poisons and toxins.

They are resistant to being wounded, unless the wounds are caused by an object made of or plated in silver. Complete immunity to being harmed by unenchanted weapons is also a possibility for the most powerful individuals. (I've never been clear on what damage reduction looks like - I suppose either it's harder to break their skin, or else the wounds simply close up or at least heal up a bit automatically.)

They can cure moderate wounds like a divine spellcaster.

If they touch a dying creature they can drain the remaining life-force from them, killing them and temporarily strengthening themselves (as in physical strength and hit points, as well as boosting the power of their spells) Some may manifest the similar ability to drain the life force from a target by looking at them, stealing their vitality to heal themselves. The target doesn't need to be dying, and may be perfectly healthy

They are unaffected by any but the most extreme of temperatures, to the point where they're resistant to elemental damage of that kind (this could be cold or heat, or both). Some Bhaalspawn are also resistant to electricity and any magic cast on them.

They can strike mortal dread into nearby beings.

They can use divine energy to smite their foes - or they can maifest it as a 20ft area of darkness and tangible evil ("cold, cloying and greasy" to the senses) that damages non-evil beings within it.

They can create supernatural 15-20ft clouds of impenetrable blackness that extinguishes all sources of light, as per the darkness spell.

One Bhaalspawn manifested the (involuntary) ability to instinctually teleport to safety whenever he panicked - this is just speculation, but I would assume this works the same as the ability available to Bhaal's Deathstalker priests; they can teleport to the Throne of Blood in the Lower Planes, and from there teleport back into Toril at any location not protected by warding magic.

And, last but not least, Bhaalspawn are known to be able to transform into the Slayer when particularly favoured by their father. In one, exceptional, case a Bhaalspawn was known to manifest Bhaal's other avatar; the Ravager.

#I'll probably notice a thousand flaws the moment I hit post...#FYI the aferlife sucks if you're a Bhaalspawn #“You have an air of irresistible desperation about you”#No shit sherlock #I'm still judging you for not detecting Orin you useless vampire (affectionate)#durge #the dark urge #dark urge #orin the red

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theemporium · 9 months

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Would you consider writing part two for the last Remus story? I can't deal with them not admitting they love each other and getting together 😭

poor little james blurb got put on hold for this but oh well!! thank you for requesting and i hope this makes up for the last blurb🖤

part one

Remus Lupin had come to realise that life was absolutely horrible and pointless without you in it.

It had been almost a month since you walked away from him in the library, and Remus didn’t think his life could get much worse than seeing you not even look back at him but did. He was forced to confront the habits he gained over the years of your friendship.

He would prepare a cup of coffee in the morning for you, only to realise you were on the other side of the Great Hall.

He would excitedly rush to your dorm to tell you about a book he just read, only to be told by one of your roommates that you were out for the night.

He would hear your laugh in between classes or in the corridors, and his head would be snapping around to see if he could even catch a glimpse of your smile.

Remus Lupin was miserable without you and everyone could see that.

James and Sirius had tried to cheer him up. Lily had tried to coax him on weekends out to Hogsmeade. Marlene and Dorcas had even tried their fair hand in trying to get a peak of the old Remus back, but it was useless.

It was Mary who had the idea of trying to get the two of you to reconcile. However, approaching you was never going to work considering the fact you weren’t talking to any of them either. And they doubted Regulus would be any help in persuading you into talking to them.

It left only one reasonable option—trapping the two of you in a room until you worked out your differences.

Remus was easy enough to convince. It felt a bit dodgy to be using his general exhaustion from the full moon that just passed against him, but he didn’t put up much of a fight as they led him towards the Quidditch closet out by the field. You were a little more difficult, but it didn’t mean they hadn’t managed to do much, your fists pounding on the door the second you heard the lock click.

But it was useless. You were trapped.

And then you turned around, finding Remus sat on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. There were dark bags under his eyes and his cheeks looked a little more sunken in that they usually did after a full moon. He looked paler and you noted the new scar slashed across his cheek, fresh and not fully healed yet.

“Oh.”

But he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you. Partly because he was convinced he was imagining it and partly because he was scared that if he opened his mouth, he would ruin the first chance he had to see you in weeks.

You squirmed a little under his intense gaze, turning to try and shove the door open a few more times. But with no wand and your non-verbal spellcasting skills amatuer at best, you were forced to accept your fate.

You settled on the floor, leaning against the wall across from him so you were forced to meet his gaze. Neither one of you said anything at first and it felt wrong. It was rare you didn’t know what to say to each other, and in the moments where silence did fall, it was nothing but comfortable.

But this was tense, awkward even. And neither of you knew how to navigate it.

Much to both of your surprise, it was Remus who spoke first.

“I’m sorry,” he started and you froze, unsure if he had actually spoken or if you imagined it. But when you lifted your head, his eyes were wide and pleading and you knew you heard him correctly.

“Remus—”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he continued, cutting you off and you pressed your lips together as you listened to him. “I did trust you,” he said before pausing to correct himself. “I do trust you. And I’m sorry I never told you—”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, your voice so small you almost didn’t recognise yourself.

“I was protecting—”

“The real reason, Remus,” you said sternly. “Give me the truth, I at least deserve this.”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes falling to focus on the ground between his feet as he spoke. “People’s opinions of me change when I tell them my secret,” he confessed. “Even if they don’t mean for it to, it does. It happened with the boys, it happened with Lily and Dorcas and Mary and Marlene. The few professors that know, it changed their perspective too. I hate it.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I hate the pitying looks they give me after a full moon, I hate the way they treat me like I’m about to shatter into a million pieces,” he muttered with a bitter laugh, before he lifted his head and looked at you. “I couldn’t see that with you. The others…I could deal with but I didn’t want you to change how you saw me. I didn’t want you to stop looking at me like I was worth something.”

You swallowed the emotions that laid thick in the back of your throat. “Remus, I could never.”

“But you did,” he said with a grim smile. “And it is my fault you did so.”

“Because you were a self-deprecating idiot who should have realised I knew all along,” you murmured and gave him a soft smile, and something like hope flared in his chest.

“That I am,” he admitted with a nod. “I’m sorry, love.”

“You and those puppy dog eyes are too hard to resist, Lupin,” you grumbled as you shuffled across the small closet, making your way towards him until you were straddling his lap. “I’m still angry at you.”

Remus' face fell a little but he nodded. “I understand.”

“But I still love you so I get to do this,” you murmured and before he could even process what was happening, you were grabbing his face in your hands and pressing your lips against his.

Remus melted into your touch instantly, his arms winding around your waist and pulling your body down until you were fully situated on his lap. He kissed you back eagerly, his tongue darting out to lick and tease you like he had been dreaming of doing since he knew what the feelings he had meant. He let out a small whimper when you nipped his lip, a noise that only got louder when you pulled away.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Remus,” you whispered, your forehead pressed against his. “But you’re my idiot.”

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for my stupidity as long as you keep calling me yours, love,” Remus whispered back, lifting his head to peck your lips. “I love you too.”

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littlejuicebox · 4 months

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ahhhhhh the first installment of Midnight Chimes is so good! I can’t wait for more! I also really like the AstarionxWren series, I loved jealous Astarion in Chapter 10! Would you be willing to write another small piece about him being jealous? Thank you!

Hi Anon! Thank you. I love some jealous, angsty Astarion as much as the next person! Here you go! <3

Warnings/Tags: In-game spoilers, fluff/angst, jealous partner, possessive partner (if you squint)

Word count: 1.4 K

-----

The group had only a few days left in the Mountain Pass region before they ventured into the dreaded Shadowlands. Halsin insisted on hoarding at least a quarter cord of wood for the journey; he said he would even pull the entire thing himself, in his bear form, if he had to.

The wood elf warned the others that the journey into the Shadowlands would be treacherous, and nary a living thing would be found. As such, he'd been more than adamant they all gather as many supplies as they could find and hold in order to prepare for the unknown atrocities ahead.

No one could deny Halsin was a magnificent specimen. Everyone in the camp had been distracted when the druid removed his shirt, revealing beautiful beads of sweat glistening on his remarkably chiseled chest. The late afternoon sun was beating down his barren back as he chopped relentlessly at a thick tree trunk, hashing it with sheer force and unbreakable will. Earlier, the spellcasters had offered to help the druid with the project, but he'd quickly brushed them off with an explanation that the repetitive manual labor cleared his mind.

The mountain of a man paused to drink water from his canteen and then lifted the bottle over his head. The cool liquid spilled through his locks before flowing in thin rivets down his face, following the force of gravity and ultimately dribbling down his barren torso. Astarion himself had been sitting with his mouth agape, watching the salacious scene. Honestly, it was a nearly impossible vision to ignore.

But then the silver-haired elf became absolutely engrossed in the event, unable to look away as you practically sprinted over to Halsin with a fresh canteen of water and a few damp cloths. You were fussing over the druid as he took a brief respite from his self-assigned chore. Astarion rolled his eyes in exasperation when he heard you lament the fact that it was so hot and insist you could help the druid chop wood.

Oh, please. He was certain you never lifted an axe in your life.

But, of course, Halsin was humoring your antics and absolutely devouring your attention. The druid took a few more sips of water, and then you two fell into what must have been a very pleasant conversation, judging by the flush of your cheeks and the giant grin on your face.

Astarion felt a pang in his chest as your laughter rang across the camp; coquettish giggles that had been previously reserved solely for him. Was he actually jealous?

No, impossible, he couldn’t be! The rogue could have bed anyone in the camp, Halsin included, if he so wished. You had simply been a matter of convenience. So what if you two spent nearly every night wrapped in one another's arms, it was merely transactional!

Wasn’t it?

“Your move, Astarion.” Wyll prompts with a small, mischievous chuckle.

“Huh?” The vampire responds dazedly, jerking his head back to the human man.

Oh, right, they were still playing chess.

Astarion glances at the pieces on the board, but he’s preoccupied by visions of you and Halsin his peripherals. The rogue picks up his remaining knight and moves it to E4. Wyll laughs in lofty delight and pushes his bishop forward, claiming Astarion's knight with ease.

The vampire groans in dismay before examining the tiny wooden pieces again. He and Wyll had made a bet: the loser had to leave camp and forage for a basket full of wild crops before returning for the night.

Astarion abhorred the thought of performing such a menial task, and he had been winning mere moments ago, before your little rendezvous with Halsin distracted him. He sighs and brings his hand to rest on the side of his face, trying to focus on the game, but your ridiculous laughter is ringing in his ears. Finally, the elf picks up his queen and moves it a few spaces to the left.

When he's completed his move, Astarion’s eyes wander over to you once more. Halsin is leaning into you with his muscular arms wrapped around your torso, broad chest flush against your back. He’s showing you how to properly swing the axe, the two of you moving in unison.

“Oh, come on!” Astarion shouts, no longer paying attention to the chess game at all. His fists tense into tight balls upon his lap; you had to know what you were doing.

Wyll is laughing. He's just won the game and misinterprets the vampire's exclamation as a response to the loss. "Hah! You have to be more careful with your queen, Astarion! Or else she'll be stolen away by the better player."

The pale elf snaps his eyes back to Wyll and then down to the board. Only then does he realize that he's lost the game, perhaps in more ways than one. Astarion frowns in utmost displeasure; the parallels of the warlock's statement are not lost on him.

Wyll is cackling as he hands the basket to the pale elf. Astarion growls and grabs the woven piece of wicker; as he walks out of camp, he is perturbed to see you still chopping wood with everyone's favorite druid.

Over an hour later, the vampire returns to camp with a basket full of foraged food, as agreed upon. He drops the basket in Wyll's lap with a huff and then stalks off to his tent without a word. When you pop by a couple of minutes later, Astarion is absolutely brooding, and pretending to occupy himself with a book he hasn't read a word of.

"Can I help you? I'm quite busy." The pale elf grumbles, barely lifting his eyes from the page to acknowledge you.

You don't take the hint and let yourself into the rogue's tent with a contented little smile. You move to sit next to your lover, and he dramatically leans away from you, turning his head to avoid your gaze entirely.

"Aw, come now, Astarion... are you still upset that you lost that bet against Wyll?" You murmur, cocking your head slightly, "He warned you that he was quite good!"

"I wouldn't have lost if someone hadn't distracted me." Astarion snarls, snapping the book shut and scowling at you, white eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"Distracted you? I wasn't anywhere near you!" You respond in surprise, eyes widening at the elf, "How can you blame me for losing, it's not my fault you--"

"You distracted me because you were practically drooling all over the druid!" The vampire hisses, no longer able to keep the boiling bits of frustration from spilling out of his mouth as he points the book at you in accusation.

"Are..." You pause, eyebrow raising slightly, copying the habitual expression of practiced cockiness normally displayed by your companion, "Are you jealous, Astarion?"

"Of the druid? Hah!" The vampire retorts, feigning disgust with a crinkled nose, though he realizes it's not too convincing, "Hardly, darling."

"Hmm... shame." You drawl, eyes narrowing slightly. You sigh and begin to shift, as if you're about to exit his tent, “For a moment I was beginning to think you actually cared."

"And where do you think you're going?" Astarion asks as you lift the flap of his tent.

Since entering the Mountain Pass, you two had shared a tent almost every night. Often, it was for sex, which he found himself expecting in a confusing state of yearning and apprehension. But sometimes it was simply for cuddles and conversation, and perhaps a little snack on his part. He found that he'd grown quite fond of your frequent interactions and the feeling of your warm body curled up next to him as you finally drifted off to sleep.

"To my own tent," You murmur, eyeing the vampire with a devious smirk, "Come and find me when you're ready to admit that you were jealous."

And then you're gone, and Astarion is left seething, watching as you saunter away.

Less than a half hour later, the vampire is at the entrance of your tent, his threadbare blanket draped around his arm. You lift your gaze from the dagger you'd been sharpening and eye him with a self-satisfied smile. You sheath the blade and bring your arms across your chest, waiting expectantly for the rogue's confession.

The pale elf groans in frustration, rolling his eyes up at the heavens, "Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Oh, absolutely!" You respond near-instantaneously, "No entry until admission is paid."

Astarion sighs and shifts uncomfortably on his feet, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I guess..." He starts, and then his tone drops into a barely audible whisper, "I guess I was a bit jealous."

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you. You'll have to speak louder, darling, as I don't have vampiric hearing." You say with a teasing, overly saccharine smile, "Could you please repeat that?"

"I was jealous!" He hisses, now thoroughly flustered by your mockery and pulling anxiously at his own ear, "There! Are you happy?"

This time you beam, and the smile is sweet and genuine. He feels the knot that was growing in his chest relax as your gaze softens. You scoot yourself over in your tent and chuckle slightly, patting the spot next to you. "Yes. Very happy. Now get in here, you sweet idiot."

Astarion enters the tent, immediately taking his place by your side. A smooth, pale arm wraps around your torso, and he presses a soft kiss to your temple before dropping his head and whispering into your ear, “The next time you're looking for wood, my sweet, it would be my pleasure to provide you with some. You needn't look elsewhere; I'm sure you'll find that the wood I can provide you is hard and ready to fill you with warmth every single time."

His hot breath tickles your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. You feel your face grow flushed at his overt innuendo, and the vampire chuckles at the splashes of red spreading across your neck and cheeks. He brings his tongue to run along your ear lobe, which rips a small, delightful gasp from you.

"Astarion!" You squeal, pressing a hand to the elf’s chest and moving away slightly in a half-hearted attempt to avoid the vampire's advances. Your tent is still wide open, and you don’t particularly relish the idea of everyone in camp witnessing your private life, no matter how nice it feels.

"That better be the only name I ever hear cried from your lips.” The rogue murmurs before moving forward and gently nipping at your lobe, grazing it between fanged teeth. He smirks and then hums contentedly before purring into your ear once more, “Now, be a little lamb and close the tent, won’t you? I believe we have some serious making up to do.”

#astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion fluff #astarion jealous #jealous astarion

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talenlee · 26 days

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Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#DnD 4e #Dungeons &amp; Dragons #Games

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ostrichmonkey-games · 6 months

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And we have a winner!

So let's talk about the TECHNOCCULSTIST, how it fits into Stampede Wasteland, and the anatomy of a class in general.

TECHNOCCULTIST

mage-priests of the Wastes. sorcerers who bargain with tech-devils. preachers who spread the impact words of the Crash Saints. +LVL when rolling with TECH: when you're dealing with logic, construction, crafting, ritual, tech-devils, magic

Technoccultists are the spellcasters of Stampede Wasteland. They're the only class who can actually cast spells due to both their connections to the Crash Saints and the tech-devils. If you have levels in Technoccultist, you get to add your level to any roll that has you dealing with anything that falls within the purview of the class.

Aesthetics

Countless charms worn across your body

Tattoos of Crash scripture scrawled on your skin

Incense emitting, heavy cloak

The mark of a tech-devil upon your brow

ABILITIES

Here's where we start to get into the meat of a class: its abilities. Currently, there's no limit to how many times you can use a class ability, though some do come with built in narrative restrictions. The Gunslinger for example has to consume a bullet (really just the gunpowder inside it) to use an ability and the Wildwander needs to have their symbiotic beast with them to access some of their abilities. The Technoccultist is a little special in that it has only two kinds of "abilities": Learn a Spell or Pledge yourself to a Crash Saint.

Learn a Spell: This ability can be taken multiple times. Each time it is taken, roll + Spells known. On a success, you are corrupted by the tech-devil you are consorting with. Gain the mark of this tech-devil in a visible location upon your body. Tradition teaches caution when consorting with the tech-devils. Proper rituals and offerings to your Saintly patron will protect you.

Technoccultists are really the only people in the Wastes who can learn spells, and for good reason. The only things out there that can grant the power to cast spells are the tech-devils: ancient, pre-Crash AI that have been changed by the Warp. They're dangerous, powerful, and capricious. Some orders of technoccultists have half-shackled tech-devils enshrined within their monasteries. But far more common are tech-devils that wander the Wastes or inhabit ancient Crash Sites, waiting to tempt the unawares with powerful bargains. Or at least that's what the orders teach. Spells are, within the fiction, complicated. Like psychic brainworms, pieces of sacred digital code, ancient executables transmuted into something else by the psychofield of the planet. No one's entirely sure, and most folk don't ever want to find out. The full mechanics of spells are still in-progress, but they're gonna be wild. Powerful and dangerous. Though technoccultists don't have a ton of abilities compared to some of the other classes, the spells they can learn more then make up for that.

Pledge yourself to a Crash Saint: Each time this is taken, choose a new saint. Gain one minor relic or icon of the Saint. When you wield the relic or icon, roll+LVL when dealing with anything that falls within their domains.

Technoccultists are also the only class that have this level of flexibility in their "skills", effectively making them the "skill monkeys" of Stampede Wasteland. It is not easy to get bonuses to dice rolls in this game (you can lower the difficulty in other ways though)! But if you ever wanted to round out some "skills", then you can pick up some new patron Saints. How does this work in the fiction? The different orders all have slightly different theories, but the best working one is that the Crash Saints left "impressions" of themselves within the Warp, and when a technoccultist wields an icon or relic of that Saint, they can wrap those impressions of the Saint around them, effectively tapping into the powers of that Saint. Allegedly. Outside of the orders there's plenty of other ideas.

There are many Crash Saints, here are but a few.

PREREQ: Make a sacrificial offering at a notable Crash Saint holy site.

The last mechanic that each class has is their prerequisite. The prereq is something that only becomes applicable as you start gaining levels outside of character creation and want to invest some of those levels in new classes you have no levels in yet. All prereq's are entirely narrative and can form the basis for future adventures.

And that's the TECHNOCCULTIST! Of the four classes, it has a fairly unique structure, but honestly, each of the classes has their own special quirks.

If you want to know more about Stampede Wasteland, you can check out the other posts in the tag, and follow along as I continue development! It's getting decently close to being text complete, so hopefully we'll see a release in the next couple of months.

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpg design #stampede wasteland #osr #together we go

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 30 days

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A Cat in the Kitchen

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel) | Part 10 (ft. Jack and Vil)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Ready for a short supplementary cooking class?🌟 A day in the life of Prefect Gordon and his familiar Grim, told in three parts: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After all, food is tastier when it's shared with friends and family~

Imagine this…

Gordon Ramsay stirred before the rats and the ghosts of Ramshackle dorm did. He was up by 5 am most days, first exercising and then rustling around in the kitchen fighting the gas stove to light (and stay that way!) and taking inventory of the dwindling ingredients in the pantry. At 7 am, the delicious smells would start up, rousing his housemates from their slumber.

This was the magic of a human incapable of spellcasting or sorcery.

"Mm... You're up super early again," Grim muttered from the doorway as he rubbed at his eyes. He yawned, still struggling to shake off the last remnants of sleep that clung to him. "I dunno how you do it."

"Not so hard once you've got the hang of it," he grunted in response. Gordon wiped his hands off on a dish towel before sliding a plate toward Grim. "Eat up now, we don't have much time before classes start."

"I dunno, I'm not too hungry."

"You? Not hungry?" Gordon's brows raised. "That's new. You feeling under the weather?"

Grim leapt, looking as though he had been caught with his entire body stuffed into a cookie jar. "N-No, I'm not! Yup, there's my hunger comin' back to me!"

He hurriedly yoinked a tuna sandwich and chowed down.

"See?! Ah'm jus' fine," Grim insisted, cheeks stuffed.

"Hmm, alright." Gordon tucked into a small bowl of oatmeal--prepared with baked bananas, almond milk, and dried cranberries.

"You got class today too or what?"

"Yup. Ashengrotto and the smaller Shroud this time."

“Think they’ll drive ya mad like the rest of them did?”

“I’ll hold my tongue until I’ve seen how they are in the kitchen for myself.”

“Keh, you’re no fun.”

The beast’s ears flattened. The blue fire that burned so brightly seemed to dim. Something weighed on his mind—of that, Gordon was certain.

“That means you'll abandon me before lunchtime again..." Between chews, Grim complained, "How come I gotta be just a student and you get to be a teacher too? The great Grim-sama oughta be showin' these newbies a thing or two!"

"I only teach what I know. I'm still a student in some ways, learning new things about food every day." Gordon shrugged, giving his friend a rough ruffle on the head. "You can be a teacher when you've mastered everything there is to master--neither of us is quite there yet."

"Why can't it be? I wanna fast forward to the part where I become an archmage already!!"

"Don't be impatient about making progress. I’ve made hundreds of dumplings in a day and still came nowhere near the level of perfection of a dim sum master.“

“Tsk, that sucks. Didja at least get to eat the bad dumplings?”

“It was all I had that day. They weren’t fit to serve to customers.” Gordon shook his head. “My point is, you’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He spooned up the remainder of his oatmeal, then deposited his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink. Gordon plucked up Grim, who still had a mouth full of tuna, and tucked him under one arm.

“M-Myah?!“

“Right then, let’s head out. Brisk morning jog to wake up the senses—it’s a brand new day!”

“Lemme finish my breakfast first, sheesh!!”

Three classes before lunch, and they all went about as well as Gordon had expected them to. (That was to say, not well at all.)

During first period Alchemy, Grim had earned the ire of Crewel by disregarding the potion recipe. In spite of Gordon's reminders and warnings, Grim had taken one too many missteps. The wrong ingredient, the incorrect amount, the temperature too low or too high, the stirring too much or not enough.

He was then caught catnapping during Magic History and extensively told off by both Trein and Lucius. (The meowing had gotten very intense.) Gordon had apologized profusely in Grim's place.

Flying had not fared any better--Grim struggled to concentrate, his unsteady magic causing his broom to wildly buck, attempting to chuck him off. Gordon had to stop his rep of 100 push-ups to fetch his friend out from a shrub. Twigs poked at him, leaves caught in his fur.

By the time they were dismissed back to the locker rooms, Grim had melted into a furry puddle on Gordon's shoulder. "Maaan, I'm beat!! That was rough!"

"Rougher than usual." Gordon crunched on an apple. He had taken to the habit of eating small platters or snacks throughout the day over whole meals—it was more efficient for his lifestyle. “Something you want to tell me, or…?”

“N-Nothing’s up!” Grim snapped. "Quit worryin' about me. It's the boss's job to do that for their minion."

The chef rolled his eyes as he set Grim down on the floor beside him. He handed off a boxed lunch wrapped in a checkered cloth. "I'm off to teach. You'll be fine on your own, right? Find Trappola and Spade, settle down with your food, and don't cause trouble."

"I got it already!" Grim huffed. "Catch ya after...?"

"Always." His smile was strained, a bit tired but true. "Maybe I'll bring back some disastrous stories to share with you over dinner."

One last pat on the head, and then he was gone. Hustling down the hall, the white of his pristine chef’s jacket vanishing behind a corner.

Grim managed the rest of the hike to the cafeteria, balancing his lunch in his paws. He squeezed past the legs of various mob students, emerging safely on the other side. They rushed to line up for trays of food.

Suckers, Grim thought, paying in cash for food. Luckily for me, I’ve got something way better than whatever they’re serving.

“Oiiii, Grim! Over here!!” someone called to him. He looked—and there they were, the duo of troublemakers, marked by a heart and a spade upon their faces.

“Ace! Deuce!”

He scampered over to the two Heartslabyul freshmen. They had already secured their lunches, as well as an open seat for him.

“Hard night? Looks like you didn't get much sleep," Deuce commented. A fluffy omelet wobbled atop a mountain of ketchup fried rice on his plate.

“He's right, you really do look awful," Ace added cheerily--blunt as ever. He had opted for a slice of some savory pie, vegetables and meat oozing out from a buttery crust.

"Sh-Shuddap! The great Grim-sama was up all night cookin' up something big!" He slammed a paw down on the table. "Just look at your sorry lunches. They can't compare to what I have!"

"Did Prefect make your meal again? You should try to not trouble him too much.”

"’S not like I tell’m to! He does it on his own!” Grim snickered to himself. "He takes all these cheap ingredients and throws'm together to make these tasty dishes."

"Well, don't keep us waiting in suspense," Ace groaned. "Show us what you have already."

“Let’s see, let’s see!”

Grim undid the fabric knot that held his lunch in a swathe. The checkered pattern peeled back and the lid, once removed, yielded a creamy, cheesy bed of tuna bake.

Gordon had taken his beloved canned tuna and fried it down into flakes. It was then combined with a special mixture of seasonings, pasta shells, melted cheeses, onions and broccoli, and topped with bread crumbs. After a generous bake in their ancient oven, the dish had come out golden brown and bubbling.

“Whoooa, smells delish!!” all three of them drooled.

“Lucky bastard,” Ace muttered. He quickly put on a cheeky grin, his spoon prepared. “Ne, ne~ Lemme try some, Grim!“

“D-Don’t be cheeky, Ace! You can’t demand to mooch off of someone else’s lunch,” Deuce scolded his peer. “… Even if it does look really good.”

“Paws off!!” Grim shielded the box with his body. “My minion made this for me and me only!”

“Tch.” Ace’s expression dropped. “You get to eat like a king for free while the rest of us have to shell out and make do with whatever’s on the school’s menu.”

“It’s not that bad,” Deuce pointed out. “It’d be nice to be able to eat for free but I’m happy with the quality of food we get for the price.”

“This comin’ from the guy who was running low on pocket money for a snack the other day?” he smirked.

“H-Hey, I need to budget, okay?!”

While the duo bickered, Grim had started to shove his face into the box (silverware was too difficult to maneuver) and wolf down his meal. Cheese sauce painted his fur, bits of broccoli and tuna dotting his jaw.

It was heaven—or as close to heaven as he could get on the earth.

He licked his lips appreciatively, mopping up what was left on his face. Not even a little could go to waste. Grim was determined.

As he went back in for another mouthful, he felt a phantom hand cascade across his head, his back. Advice from that morning filled his mind.

“You’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He shut his eyes, making a silent vow.

I’ll definitely… definitely pay ya back for all the hard work you’ve been puttin’ in too, partner.

Gordon bid farewell to the ghost chefs on his way out of the kitchen. The day’s leftovers and unused ingredients overflowed from his arms—a perk of the teaching gig, which helped to feed him and his feline roommate. He mentally parsed through what was available, dreaming up new dishes for the days to come.

There was a nice chunk of fresh tuna (Grim would love it) in his brown paper bag. Perhaps he’d sear it with a sesame crust, then drizzle the seafood in a yuzu-lime dressing to brighten it. He’s plate it with a microgreens salad. Chives, arugula, celery, radish, and ruby sorrel to encourage Grim to eat a variety of vegetables.

He made his way out of the school building and down the long, winding path to Ramshackle dorm. The sun was still out, warming the worn Prefect.

On the front porch, he rustled around in his pants for the keys. When he finally fished it out and inserted the teeth into the lock, Gordon swore he heard a series of suppressed giggles from beyond the door.

Odd.

The door swung open, and he was immediately accosted.

"Welcome baaack," the Ramshackle Ghosts chirped. One ushered him in from behind, another too his groceries off of his hands, and a third tugged him along by the arm.

"Come this way! Grimmy's got a treat for ya!"

"He's been working hard on it the second he got back from his last class."

"Oooh, you're gonna LOVE it!"

"What about dinner?" Gordon protested, watching his beloved ingredients sail off.

He was thrusted into their dingy kitchen--which doubled as the dining room, thanks to the table and chairs set up in one cobwebbed corner. The same old Ramshackle he woke up to every day. Rusty knobs and hinges, chipped cupboards, electricity and running water that blinked in and out.

But there, set on a table with uneven legs and splintered wood, was something extraordinary.

It was a stout cake, iced in light blue with a layer of dripping white and several lit candles stuck into the top. Black frosting formed the vague shape of a fish, TUNA piped over it in white. A single lollipop--pale blue, and in the shape of a paw--casually rested against the cake, as if it had been tossed on top for an extra flair.

A furry mass tackled and hugged Gordon's leg.

"Grim?!"

He was suited up in his own little chef's uniform. It was deep gray, verging on black, his apron tied with a striped-purple ribbon. A tiny toque--a chef's hat-- sat between his ears, a bandage over the bridge of his nose. A smear of white icing decorated his left cheek, and he carried with him a telltale piping bag squeezed thin.

Gordon blinked. "You did this?"

"Nyahahah! Were you surprised?"

"You told me you couldn't cook to save your life."

"He can't," a ghost piped up as he deposited the groceries onto a counter. "He's worse than I was when I was alive!"

"That's why Grimmy's been getting up in the dead of night lately. Been, what? Gotta be a few weeks now."

"He's been practicing his baking and then cleaning up the traces of his crime before you get up."

"What..."

"I wanted to pay ya back, yanno! For all the cookin' and cleanin' and whatever," Grim mumbled shyly, kicking at the ground. "So I figured I'd treat ya for once! I was thinking of a sticky toffee pudding at first since that's your favorite, but... it gets so sticky, it was hard to work with!"

He patted his stomach. "I couldn't put my stuff in the trash can or else you'd notice, so I had to eat up all my mistakes too! It was a lotta effort and way harder than it looked, so you'd better be grateful!!”

Grim looked away, rubbing at his bandage.

“… It helped me better understand and appreciate all the things you do on the daily.”

It clicked.

Everything suddenly made sense. Grim's tiredness, lack of focus, decreased appetite, defensiveness—it was all for this very moment.

"... I see." Gordon bent down, a smile taking shape on his mouth. A steady kindling in his chest. “This is your way of saying ‘thank you’.”

“M-Maybe! An archmage has gotta take good care of his minion,” Grim muttered.

The prefect laughed softly. “And you’re doing a great job at it. Hang tight, I'll get the stove going and whip us up some seared tuna to go with the cake."

“Myah?! Y-You’ve got tuna? Like, the real stuff?!” Grim’s eyes were wide and sparkling. A line of drool ran down his chin. "Fancy tuna...!!"

"Yeah. We can plate some for the ghosts too--so they can join us for a meal in spirit." Gordon nodded at their other roommates. Their pale faces brightened with excitement.

"Can we really?"

"It's been so long since I was last invited to a celebration like this!!"

"Oh, but we can't eat... Ghosts don't have digestive systems. The tune would pass right through us."

"... Grim, you have eat their shares. More importantly, it's being together for the occasion that matters, right?"

"Whoo-hoo!! You're the best minion an archmage could ask for!!" Grim cheered, leaping into the air, furry fist pumping.

“Let's get this dinner party started…!”

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incandescentsims · 7 months

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Magical Mythical Creatures Legacy Challenge

Play through all the sims 4 occult life states and develop your legacy across seven generations.

Feel free to change anything to fit your own gameplay/storytelling style and above all have fun!

Parts of this challenge were inspired by the Simblr Halloween Challenge created by @spacenez and @daddy-winter

You can also find the full seven generation legacy challenge HERE (Google Doc).

Generation 1 - VAMPIRE

Aspiration: Master Vampire

Traits: Music Lover, Erratic, Gloomy

Career: Freelance Artist

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Vampiric Lore

Pipe Organ and/or Violin

Cross-Stitch

Painting

Objectives:

Start as a vampire or be turned into a vampire.

Live in Forgotten Hollow.

level up to Rank 5 – Grand Master Vampire.

Grow at least one plasma fruit tree and Sixam mosquito trap.

Earn the Night Owl trait from the reward store.

Marry a vampire. (vampire spouse must be in the Criminal career)

Have an affair with a werewolf from Moonwood Mill.

Have three children, your decision who sired them (vampire or werewolf), but the heir must be sired by the werewolf.

Generations 2-7 are under the cut

Generation 2 - WEREWOLF

Aspiration: Pick one of the following - Emissary of the Collective, or Wildfang Renegade

Traits: Bookworm, Active, Loyal

Career: Vet Clinic

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Wellness

Veterinarian

Fishing

Objectives:

Live in Moonwood Mill (move in with your werewolf parent as a teen).

Have at least one pet dog.

Level up to Rank 5 – Apex.

Join one of the wolf packs - Moonwood Collective or Wildfangs.

Explore the underground tunnels in Moonwood Mill.

Read werewolf literature and unlock the Lunar Epiphany ability.

Catch at least one luna fish and display in an aquarium or mounted on the wall.

Marry your fated mate.

Have as many children as you wish, but the heir must be a dormant werewolf.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 12 Moonwood relics.

Collect all 12 feathers.

Complete the fish collection.

Generation 3 - GHOST

Aspiration: Soulmate

Traits: Foodie, Cat lover, Clumsy

Career: Freelance Paranormal Investigator

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Medium

Cooking

Gourmet cooking and/or Baking

Objectives:

Move into a haunted house. (your choice of world)

Have at least one pet cat.

Grow at least one death flower plant.

Earn the Brave trait from the reward store. (purchase after they've lived seven days inside the haunted house)

Have a friendship with a ghost that turns to romance.

Make ambrosia and resurrect your ghost partner from the dead.

Have 5 children.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 10 sugar skulls. The Sims 4: How to Complete the Sugar Skull Collection

Collect Paranormal Rewards.

3 specter buddy jars

6 bizzare totems

7 hello dahlia dolls

3 clay hands

3 specter sips

1 ectocake

4 strange overgrowth

12 soul pieces

10 candy jars

Generation 4 - SPELLCASTER

Aspiration: Pick one of the following - Purveyor of Potions or Spellcraft & Sorcery

Traits: Goofball, Adventurous, Romantic

Career: Social Media

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Mischief

Charisma

Rock Climbing

Skiing and/or Snowboarding

Objectives:

Live in Glimmerbrook.

Become a spellcaster and level up to Rank 6 – Virtuoso.

Regularly duel with other Spellcasters.

Holiday in Mt. Komorebi every winter and reach the mountain peak.

Earn the Iceproof trait from the reward store. (purchase after their first holiday in Mt. Komorebi)

Have a new romantic partner each life stage from teen - elder.

Never marry.

Have 2 Children.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 25 frogs.

Collect all 26 magical artefacts.

Collect all 12 simmies.

Collect all 5 spirit dolls

Generation 5 - PLANTSIM

Aspiration: Super Parent

Traits: Unflirty, Loner, Loves Outdoors

Career: Gardener

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Gardening

Flower Arranging

Nectar Making and/or Juice Fizzing

Objectives:

Move into a Micro Home with a very large garden. Lot sizes must be 30x30 or bigger (your choice of world)

Collect all 7 Magic beans.

Enter the Mystical Magic Bean Portal Tree and obtain the Forbidden Fruit.

Regularly eat forbidden fruit to turn into a plantsim.

Grow at least one Forbidden Fruit Tree, Cowplant and Money Tree.

Earn the Super Green Thumb trait from the reward store.

Have no romantic or sexual relationships with any sims.

Have no legitimate children. Once they reach adulthood, either adopt or use the Whispering Wishing Well to wish for a child (this child will be the heir).

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Complete the gardening collection

Create all 13 nectar varieties

Create all 15 scented flower arrangements

**How do I turn my Sim into a PlantSim?

Have your Sim reach level 10 of the gardening skill. With level 10 unlocked, you can buy rare seed packets using the computer, or in Build Mode.

Each rare seed packet contains one magic bean. To plant this, buy the Magic PlantSim Stump in Build Mode.

When you have six magic beans, your Sim can plant them in the Magic PlantSim Stump.

After watering, the Mystical Magic Bean Portal Tree will grow from the Stump and your Sim can travel through the portal.

When your Sim returns with the Forbidden Fruit of the PlantSim (they don’t always return with this, it may take multiple tries) they can eat it and turn into a PlantSim.

Generation 6 - ALIEN

Aspiration: Nerd Brain (*Optional - StrangerVille Mystery)

Traits: Socially Awkward, Genius, Recycle disciple

Career: Engineer

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Handiness

Robotics

Logic

Knitting

Objectives:

Live in Oasis Springs (*Optional - Live in StrangerVille and complete the StrangerVille Mystery).

Build all Utili-Bots and a Servo.

Build a rocket ship and travel to Sixam.

Be abducted by aliens at least once.

Marry an alien.

Have as many children as you wish.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 20 metals.

Collect all 20 crystals.

Collect all 4 space rocks.

Generation 7 - MERMAID

Aspiration: Beach Life

Traits: Child of the Ocean, Green Fiend, Outgoing

Career: Conservationist

Skills: reach maximum skill level for each.

Singing

Photography

Fitness

Objectives:

Live in Brindleton Bay as a young adult with a mermaid roommate.

Get into a romantic relationship with your roommate only after you become best friends.

Move to Sulani after visiting for a holiday (*Optional - live off the grid).

Become a Mermaid by obtaining and eating Mermaidic Kelp (either from exploring the cave in Mua Pel'am or befriending a dolphin).

Earn the Heatproof trait from the reward store.

Marry a mermaid (can be their roommate or someone else)

Have as many children as you wish.

Collections: optional - complete them all or pick n’ choose.

Collect all 13 seashells..

Collect all 18 buried treasure.

Collect all 10 underwater photos.

#MagicalMythicalCreatures #ts4 legacy challenge #s4 legacy challenge #ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 occult

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jaypea00101010 · 7 months

Text

A single design problem I have for each D&D 5e class

Made this a thread over on bluesky and figured might as well bring it over here. Not really big problems in most cases, but just, small things that I feel WotC should tweak in all current 5e classes.

Artificer: No clear weakness.

A single class that can make great a great support character, DPS character, tank, single target attacker, stealth character, etc

Obviously needs to be built spesifically for each of these, but every other class has at least one thing they can't do.

Barbarian: No force resistance

Slightly cheating because it's not inherently a problem with Barbarian, but recently more monsters have been using Force damage instead of B/P/S, and barbarians should absolutely gain resistance to it while raging at higher levels.

Bard: Full-casting

Bards are designed to be a jack of all trades, it's right there at 2nd level, but they seem to have missed the 'master of none' bit.

Full spellcasting up to 9th level, a pretty solid spell list, and spells they don't have they can take with Magical Secrets anyway, even 9th level ones.

Cleric: Turn Undead

A holdover from older editions, turn undead in my opinion just doesn't make for a good universal option on clerics.

I'd much prefer something like spirit guardians or spiritual weapon be reworked into their universal channel divinity.

Druid: Universal Wildshape

Probably controversial, but I have similar problems with wildshape that I do turn undead, it's good, but a weird universal option.

If I'm a druid getting my powers from stones, plants, or the stars, why can I also turn into a ferret? There should be a few options to pick from instead.

Fighter: Action Surge at Level 2

Action surge is such a good feature, usually it's just some extra attacks, but the fact you have the chioce is great....

That said, I think it coming online so early incentivises unintentionally incentivises multiclassing, casters dipping for 2 spells a turn mostly. They've somewhat fixed it by limiting what actions you can use it for in OneD&D, but I personally just feel it should be later level rather than limiting it.

Monk: Ki Dependancy

This doesnt' need explaining, everything for monks costs ki and it really doesn't need to, they should get resource free disengage and dash, or have ki recover faster.

I had an idea for a ki recharge of 1 min, but less points overall, so you have all points for every fight

Paladin: Oaths at 3rd level

You get your power as a paladin from a sacred oath you swear, so why do you only choose that oath at 3rd level?

That's like a warlock only deciding their patron at 3rd, or a cleric only deciding their god at 3rd (Yes 1D&D does this and I hate it).

Ranger: Spells Known

Why do rangers, the class that's meant to be about being the best prepared for the wilderness and natural areas not have prepared spells?

It just seems so obvious to me, and I've got no idea why it's not done like that already?!

Rogue: Is Pretty Good

If anything I'd say that I'm not a fan of skill floors like reliable talent, and expertise not letting you use it on other tools is a bit strange, maybe the large subclass level gap?

Yeah overall I'm a fan of rogues though, they're just solidly made.

Sorcerer: Spells Known

They tried to fix this in Tasha's with subclass spell lists, and I think that's good idea generally, but letting them swap them for (admittedly limited) options from 3 different spell lists is also weird

Just give them subclass spells they can't swap, or maybe can swap fron one list and you're good.

Warlock: EB is a Cantrip

Eldritch Blast is a good spell. Too good to be honest with multiclassing at least, it's one of the reasons PalLock is such a good combo.

EB should scale with Warlock level so be a feature not a cantrip, or cantrip scaling with warlock level like it was in that One D&D UA that they then reverted.

Wizard: Subclass Theming

Tying wizard subclasses to schools was a bad idea, and what we've gotten outside the PHB seems to be an attempt to go back on that.

It also means they don't have room to explore all of each school, I'd love a teleport or summon focused wizard but school of conjuration smashes them together weirdly

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thisisnotthenerd · 8 days

Text

justification below the cut because it got long but is probably valid to read before you answer anyway:

battle of the brands:

the gunner channel are a 6-person party with the assistance of a large creature/mount (aurora nebbins, CR 3). while they are level three in terms of ship deployment, they are not using those skills in this encounter.

at this point they were level five. they had access to third level spells for the spellcasters, extra attacks for the gunners, uncanny dodge for skip and multitasker for margaret.

they had the opportunity to shop for items before the encounter: this included shield generators, armor, lots of grenades, new weapons, extra psychodrones, and critically, the charge fragmentation used in operation slippery puppet

they were fighting in the battle of the brands-- a free-for-all against other brand champions in an arena with a significant drop; one of the win conditions against each opponent was sending them over the edge to suffer max falling damage.

objectives: fulfilling their contract with acme-ashmun as brand ambassadors, surviving the fight, and defeating the other brand champions

they faced four opponents: smaggy squirrel, brobbin bunny, brutus the corn brutie, and the triangle mint plinth.

smaggy squirrel and brobbin bunny were at the very least 9th level rogues--this puts them at a CR 5

the plinth was a homebrewed statblock--i evaluated it at a CR 14, similar to an elder brain.

brutus the corn brutie was based on an adult green dragon, at a CR 15.

if we go by XP with no multipliers, they would get 28100 for the encounter. well into deadly, with an overall encounter CR of 22.

the last stand:

the bad kids are a 6-person party with the assistance of 4 CR 1/2 summons (mephits) and 2 CR 3 mounts (daymare and hangman)

at this point they are level 13. they have access to 7th level spells for the full casters, paladin smites and functional smites (fandrangor), 7d6 of sneak attack, and the new barbificer subclass, which allows non-concentration spells to be held while raging

they also have access to many magical items: the infaethable bass, the heavy metal ax, the sword of sight (sword of the elven oracle), fandrangor (sword of the elven kings), the teddy bear of helpfulness, the sword of shadows and arquebus, all of which grant unique abilities, including +5 to performance and retaliatory damage, crits on 19 and 20 and max damage to objects, bonus action divination cantrips granting the dodge action (true strike), added d6s of damage using spell slots, the ability to hold multiple concentration spells, misty step, magical tranq, net, and signal flare bullets.

they were fighting in the last stand; a simultaneous academic exam and fight against an endless horde of monsters.

objectives: answering questions correctly, protecting the proctor, and lasting as long as possible. the bad kids were granted a preparation round for spellcasting and ability activation and a surprise round on the first wave of creatures. read my notes here for their academic preparation.

they faced a total of 39 opponents of varying CRs. these are sorted below into the waves that the bad kids faced them in.

first wave: otyugh (CR 5), 3 ochre jellies (CR 2), gorgon (CR 5), hydra (CR 8), 8 skeletons (CR 1/4), and a mimic (CR 2)

second wave: manticore (CR 3), shrimp dragon (CR 7), roper (CR 5), umber hulk (CR 5), and 8 stirges (CR 1/4)

third wave: wyvern (CR 6), crab man (CR 5), 8 rust monsters (CR 1/2), pentacorn (CR 6), and a purple worm (CR 15)

if we go by XP with no multipliers, they would get 37500 for the encounter. well into deadly, with an overall encounter CR of 27.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #battle of the brands #the last stand #the gunner channel #the bad kids #a starstruck odyssey #fantasy high junior year #d20 #dimension 20 meta #thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats #battle episode of all time #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #d20 fhjy #d20 poll

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bluerose5 · 1 month

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Hmm how about Halsin and Iron Bull (in whatever relationship dynamic you like!) commiserating after a fight with some goblins?

The kind of ship that snuck up on me out of nowhere. These two 100% took control of the fic and made it longer than what I intended, although I'm not complaining. 😌

...

One thing the Iron Bull never expected was for Halsin to admit to being a lightweight of all things.

While the tieflings' party was in full swing, he made his rounds throughout camp, took note of where everyone else's minds were at, his companions' especially, and he drank.

That was, until Bull realized the liquor on hand was some of the weakest shit compared to back home.

Still, it was a celebration, so he accepted drinks when offered, disgruntled by the fact that he was barely breaking a sweat over it.

Sobriety aside, he waited to speak with Halsin last, mostly because he wasn't quite sure what to make of him yet.

For one, he was big. Probably a little shorter than your average Qunari, but bigger than any elf Bull encountered in Thedas at least.

Secondly, he wielded magic different from most that Bull was familiar with, and the fact that majority of spellcasters in Faerûn didn't have to struggle against demons and possession in order to control their power...

Strange. Reassuring in a sense, but very strange.

When all was said and done, Bull figured no harm could come from getting to know the newcomer. This esteemed, knowledgeable "Archdruid" of theirs.

Who happened to be easy on the eyes —well, eye, singular— as well, but that was neither here nor there.

The Iron Bull sauntered up to him with a friendly smile, his head held high in a show of confidence.

"Well, it looks like I saved the best for last!" Bull greeted. "Settling in okay?" Before Halsin could answer, Bull interrupted. "Wait! Wait." He gave a dramatic pause. "I couldn't bear it if you said 'no.' Haha!"

He beamed at Halsin, who couldn't resist a snort of amusement, the corners of his eyes crinkled in delight.

Bull could practically hear Krem grumbling from there.

"Do not concern yourself with me. I am settling in just fine," Halsin assured him. "Of course, it always helps to have a host as gracious as yourself."

"Let's see if you still think that by the end of the night," the Iron Bull joked. He stood at Halsin's side, giving him a playful nudge with his elbow. "Seriously, though, that fight at that temple was great, yeah?" His heart raced at the memory. He leaned in, his voice low, appreciative. "You were incredible."

"Oh, come now," Halsin said, brushing off the compliment. "I don't know about that. You and your companions did most of the heavy lifting, after all."

"Don't downplay your role in our victory," Bull told him. "The sheer amount of goblins alone would have proved a challenge for anyone, but you cut through them like it was nothing." Try as he may, Bull couldn't help it, his eye trailing up and down Halsin's body. "All of that fury and rage, unleashed, directed at our enemies. You were a sight to behold, but tell the truth. You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Halsin glanced at him, not even bothering to hide how his eyes raked over his frame in return.

"Perhaps," he allowed, taking a second to clear his throat. "I must admit, I have come to expect at least a hint of fear from outsiders in response to my wild shape."

"Heh," Bull chuckled. "I fought dragons before, pal. It's gonna take more than a big teddy bear like you to scare me away."

"Is that so?" Halsin raised an eyebrow at him, surveying the area around them. "Maybe I should work on that then. Everyone should maintain a healthy balance of fear and respect for nature."

"Trust me, I respect it plenty," Bull said, "but by all means, do your worst."

Halsin shook his head, smiling to himself.

"Tempting as that is, you surely have others to go mingle with. Don't let me keep you."

"Nah." Bull waved off that concern without second thought. "I've done more than my fair share of mingling for tonight. I want to get to know you better."

He gave him a playful poke to the arm.

"Hmm..." Halsin hummed in contemplation. "I wouldn't want to be selfish and rob others here of your company. I can wait until morning to speak with you at the very least."

"Which is fine, if that's what you want," the Iron Bull whispered, "but what if I want you to be selfish?"

Halsin searched his expression for any sign of deceit.

When such scrutiny proved fruitless, his entire demeanor shifted, more open to the idea compared to before.

"In that case," he responded, "will you tell me about one of your dragon hunts then?"

"Fuck yeah, I will!" Bull exclaimed, his excitement radiant like a flame.

He clasped a hand onto Halsin's shoulder, giving it a warm, companionable squeeze.

A small shiver shot down his spine, one that Bull was quick to watch with keen interest.

The Iron Bull reckoned that Halsin didn't know many people who towered over him. It was almost funny how often his gaze would level with Bull's pecs or wander farther below before darting up to his face yet again, as if he had to constantly remind himself that he was the shorter one for once.

Then again, maybe he just liked the sight of his chest. Bull couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's see. Let's see," Bull said, rubbing at his chin while he thought it over. "I could go simple. The first dragon I ever hunted alongside the Inquisitor was terrorizing the countryside we were in at the time. It was a Fereldan Frostback."

Already, his eye was glazing over at the tale, his voice taking on a tinge of admiration that bordered on reverence. Or as close to it as he could get.

"Extremely territorial, those ones, and damn if she wasn't a beauty. All of that raw, untamed power, but unfortunately for her, her territory happened to include a few defenseless villages that couldn't ward her off on their own. That's where we came in."

He wrapped his arm around Halsin's shoulders, drawing him in closer as he spoke, staring off towards a faraway land that was well beyond their reach for now.

"That sharp burst of air that rushed past as she swiped her tail at us. That loud ringing in our ears when she screeched at the skies. That molten heat that radiated in the air when she snapped her teeth at us, so close that we would have been her next meal, had we not rolled out of reach in time."

He bared his teeth into a grin.

"That was a good day," he all but growled. "A good day, indeed!"

Halsin shifted in place. Of course, it didn't escape Bull's notice how he eased closer to him in the process.

He stared at the Iron Bull with a mixture of heat and shock.

"You almost sound excited," he said, hesitant, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

Not that it deterred Bull in the slightest.

"That's because I am," Bull stated, unashamed. "Even now, something about it gets my blood pumping and my heart racing, more so than any other fight." He grunted loudly as he lingered on the memory. "Maybe it's in my blood."

"Your blood?"

"Yeah," he said, "rumor has it that there might have been some dragon's blood mixed into the Qunari's somewhere along the way." He shrugged. "No one knows for certain. Would be pretty badass, though, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, now it's your turn."

"My turn?" Halsin questioned.

"To share. Come on," Bull encouraged. "You can't tell me that you don't have some wild stories stashed away."

"Well," Halsin launched into his tale without missing a beat, "it's not too different from yours. Back in my youth—"

"Nuh-uh, none of that," Bull interrupted. "You're not that old."

"I'll have you know that I am three hundred and fifty years young."

"Hot."

Bull smirked when that got a laugh out of him.

"I can admire anyone who is so open with their desires," Halsin said, "but shall I continue the story?"

"Oh, alright, I'll behave."

"Somehow I doubt that," Halsin teased, "but as I was saying, I was young and impulsive at the time, traveling and exploring the world to my heart's content. After indulging in nature's gifts on land for so long, life led me to the sea. Throughout my journey, I heard about a string of pirate attacks, led by a rogue band of water genasi. Their greed had already impacted several coastal villages by the time I caught wind of it."

Bull made a mental note to ask more about the race later, too intent on listening to the current story to venture off on another tangent.

"People were being taken from their homes, everyone from their children to the elderly. Those who relied heavily on fish as a staple found themselves on the brink of starvation. Resources were being drained. Their valuables were looted. Any who fought against the genasi were executed or enslaved, made an example of."

"But you stopped them?"

"Eventually," Halsin sighed, it obviously taking a toll on him that he couldn't save more than what he did. "I studied their movements, their tactics. At first, I would rally others behind me, wait until the genasi tried for an ambush, and attack then. But there were still too many deaths for my liking, so I went on the offensive. The locals provided me with a vessel of my own, and I sailed out into the open waters. I took the fight to them, grew more and more cocky with each ship I took down. I believed myself to be invincible, and that made me reckless."

"What happened next?" Bull asked, although he already had an idea.

"You clearly survived, though."

"I was taken prisoner. One of my attacks went exactly as I planned, but I didn't know that the genasi had others lying in wait, holding back until they saw the perfect opportunity to strike. They outnumbered me, enough so that they were able to overpower me, and that was that."

"That, I did. With me as their trophy, the band that captured me left the coastland for quite some time. About a year and a half passed, give or take a few months, but I forced myself to be patient throughout that time of servitude, difficult as it was. I earned the trust of the crew. And later, the captain.

"Then one day, I felt it. There was something stirring in the water, restless, massive in size. I could sense it, and part of me knew that it was my time to act.

"I convinced the crew that there was treasure, worthy of the gods, in some nearby wreckage. I made up a lie, said I recalled the area from my studies, and they believed me."

"You led them right into a trap," Bull said, impressed.

Halsin nodded.

"It was a kraken's territory," he explained. "A sea monster of great power and might. It rose up from its dark depths to confront us. The waters turned rough and formed a large, gaping vortex that threatened to consume us all. The winds whipped at blinding speeds. Storms formed that spewed lightning everywhere you looked. The kraken even managed to charm some of the crew into fighting under its thrall, so you can imagine how everything turned into a bloodbath from there."

"Damn." Bull released a low whistle, recalling a few stories he heard of dreadnoughts encountering an aban-ataashi —a sea dragon— while out on their patrols.

He imagined this creature must have been similar to cause so much destruction.

"Nothing against you or your skills, but I'm surprised you survived."

"You and me both," Halsin agreed. "I was so weak that I couldn't switch forms all that much at the time, but I managed to rely on some basic spells to keep me safe long enough to escape. I fought alongside the crew for a while to discourage any suspicion, but I stole one of the ship's work boats the second it was clear that the crew and the kraken were going to go down destroying each other. Through the gods' mercy alone, I managed to make it out of there. I watched both ship and kraken sink into the sea from afar, and I somehow survived until I found land once again."

"Okay, now that story deserves a drink," Bull said. "Or several. Care to share one with me?"

"In truth, I rarely imbibe," Halsin answered. "The stuff goes right to my head."

The sounds of the party returned to them then. Voices rose and fell. Squeals of delight and the clink of tankards greeted their ears.

People danced and swayed, stumbling around without a care in the world.

"Wait, really?" Bull asked, incredulous. "You're telling me that you can't hold your liquor?"

Somehow, that was even more unbelievable than him fighting a kraken.

Halsin laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"All I'm saying is that it won't take long before I'm breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I lay eyes on."

"Well, I mean, if you need a target to focus that energy on..." Squeezing him up against his side, Bull flexed his free arm, waggling his eyebrows at him. "I'm your guy."

"A tempting offer, I'll admit," Halsin said, admiring him openly.

"Plus, I've also been known to break into song here and there."

"Now, that, I have to see."

"Find me something stronger than the swill they serve around here," Bull challenged, "and you're on."

"Ah." As understanding dawned on him, Halsin flashed Bull a secretive smirk. "You thought that I meant that I can't handle the spirits such as those at this party." At Bull's confused look, Halsin clarified. "I keep a, uh, personal flask on hand for special occasions."

"No shit," Bull said, watching him closely, unable to keep his curiosity at bay. "You have your own recipe or what?"

"Something like that, and I have my pipe on me too, if you're interested."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Let's go make a little music, yeah?"

Amused, Halsin readily agreed.

They didn't even try to hide it as they ditched the party in favor of the surrounding forests, neither of them the type to sneak about in such a manner anyways.

They spent the rest of the night in high spirits under the stars, drinking, smoking, trading stories. And yes, singing rather terribly as well.

They fell asleep bathed in moonlight, and only when the rising sun bid them to wake did they return to camp together to discuss their next move.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #dragon age #dai #halsin #the iron bull #the iron bull x halsin #halsin x the iron bull #ironbear #bluerose answers #bluerose writes #crossover

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simarcana · 1 month

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First || Prev || Next

Transcription under the cut!

Alika: My head hurts like hell… What just… Happened?

??: You’re already awake! That’s promising… In some way ??: I guess it’s time for the courtesies. May I have the honor?

Ebe: My name is Ebenezer Schuster. The Spellcasters next to me are Morgyn Ember and L. Faba. You are now in the Realm of Magic, in the presence of the three Sages to be put on trial for Faustian bargain.

Alika: Mo-Morgyn?! I didn’t recognize you at all. What’s the meaning of all this?! I didn’t do anything with any Faust guy!! I swear- please we’re friends. Help me out of this.

Faba: Look kid, we have nothing against you directly. But the way your magic exploded… It can be explained only by a trade with a demonic entity. We don’t intervene for mundane trades, but we must eradicate Faustian spellcasters since they are made to haunt and harm our people. Ebe: The last time I witnessed one was in … 1890. She ate ten spellcasters before the Order captured her.

Morgyn: Put down the act! Your magic exploded in the blink of an eye during a full moon. Just tell us what you trade, and I’ll try to intercede with the Council to at least spare your life. Given the situation, this is the only gesture of kindness I can offer you. Faba (whispering): Shouldn’t he be more concerned about the existence ofa magic realm? Ebe (whispering): Kids these days are hard to impress.

Alika: So you’re accusing me of some big ass crime out of thin air? You have no idea how I got any magic! Do I have the right to some kind of wizard lawyer, or the trial is just a formality before sending me right the stocks?

Ebe: *Unintelligible whispers* Morgyn: Mh- It could easly do the trick.

Morgyn: You're in luck, we currently have something much, much better than a lawyer- Alika: Oof, you’re such a show off-

Morgyn: There’s a powerful soothsayer in the Realm. He will see what precisely happened during the last full moon. If what you say is true, we’ll drop everything. I hope you’re not playing games. I don’t want to lose another friend.

Alika: Losing? You’re so pessimistic, love. When this buffoonery of trial comes to an end be sure to buy me a drink. Now let’s see this soothsayer, and let’s set this thing for good.

#simblr story #save: arcana mundi #simblr #c: alika diamandis #ts4 screenies #c: ebe schuster #l. faba #morgyn ember

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dreadfutures · 6 days

Text

impressions from the hades ii technical playtest

absolutely chock full of spoilers but also theories

Amazing gameplay, feels just as good as Hades 1 with improvements and creative changes. So many different builds/play styles will be possible. in the dev stream they talked about melee close quarters vs sorcery ranged, but I find myself doing HEAVY spellcasting while also stacking in heavy melee boons on the knives, and mixing and matching.

The boons have a few familiar perks but so many of them are new and creative, even for gods we know from the first game. All of them feel really good.

The SOUND EFFECTS are amazing. The sounds of your weapons change based on the boon equipped to each attack. the sounds of the arena change depending on the god at the end (if any). Nothing and I mean nothing makes the dopamine go off more than the sound of Hephaestus' boon blasts when I do my fan of knives and they all explode. PING PING PING.

I find myself doing "resource runs" and "story runs." they do overlap. It's tough to only have one harvesting item equipped at a time and I spent so much time looking for silver and looking that my eye has started slipping over the lone spirits who gives you psyche, even when Selene leads me to them lol. I do like that they have her guiding light, but it is subtle. I also like the way you can pin certain items when you're in a run so you can remember what you needed for a recipe.

Unfortunately I did so many harvest runs that I actually got all the recipes before I had a chance to USE forget me not on a run so.... woops on that fated list lol.

We are maybe going to romance Moros or Nemesis (probably both are options?) but maybe not both at the same time? since they're siblings technically (technically) (I wouldn't mind though). I love all these children of nyx and want to protect them and smooch them all.

EXCEPT. Mel is a Silver Sister, with Artemis and Selene. Does that mean she's gotta be a virginal girl squad? lol

I love sister Artemis. I love that she throws snacks!!!!! which is even more endearing bc it's fried and a chocolate bar and soda. I wonder if sometimes I hear a note of disapproval from her and I wonder where her plot will go later. Selene it's said may not be able to reach us in Tartarus, but Artemis might.

Speaking of found family.

I fucking adore Odysseus. I love Od. So. Much. Like I loved Achilles but Od is such a good girl dad for Mel, and his pep talks are the best and so sensitive ;_; what a guy I love him.

I think? that Hecate's familiars must be placeholders, since they're just little statues that vibrate when you give them treats. I can't wait to see where they go in the full game.

It's an interesting take on Hestia, that she hates everybody. It makes me wonder if we'll see Hera or not, since I kind of expect that behavior from Hera.

Hephaestus and Demeter and Aphrodite remain my favorite boon givers.

As far as I can tell there is no fishing rod in the playtest but there will be in the full game and I'm excited.

Arachne's self esteem hurts me 😫 I love you little bug!!!! I wonder if we'll find her shop in Olympus or in Tartarus -- and I worry about her. At least Athena is too busy to bother her! I hope! I love Mel's different outfits.

The amount of pets that Mel gets to have is delightful. I love her frog so much.

Hecate is fascinating. She is SUCH a mother, she is SO compassionate to Mel and trying to build her up! She is wry and dry but never cruel or negative. I love her sm. Poor Mel has some low self esteem and understandable doubts and is putting so much pressure on herself. And I really wonder about Hecate's relationship with Persephone and the house of Hades and with nyx. Nemesis says something that makes me wonder if Hecate is innocent. Either way I don't think she'll really be a villain. My heart would break if so. Mel would break.

Mel is so sweet and pure. ;_; and she says "death to chronos" so coldly. When she says "Hence I go" I just hear her as a little baby playing hide and seek with Hecate and it gives me so many feelings.

I want to know about Mel's arm!

I can't wait to see the other regions just from the Crossroads, since there's currently two doors we can't enter.

Also what are we going to DO with the fish?

Very exciting stuff.

#hades 2 spoilers #hades 2

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silverskye13 · 2 months

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(sorry if this got sent twice, internet is very spotty at the moment) Rotating RnS Helsknight in my mind. I keep debating what dnd paladin oath he'd swear. Glory is fitting but also seems TOO obvious. I almost want to say Devotion just for the irony/contrast of it, and since he genuinely wants to make Hels better, and it would make RnS Wels lose his entire mind if he found out

Oooo I have a soft spot for this, because in my Curse of Strahd campaign right now, my paladin Ashborne is just beginning-of-RnS Helsknight. I couldn't think of a good character so I just built Helsknight as a fire genasi, except instead of Tanguish he has a shadow god sitting on his shoulder telling him to kill people, and instead of a crippling fear of death its a crippling fear of never being used to his full potential by his god.

........ Anyway.

DnD Paladin Helsknight rambles under the cut!

In my opinion, I kind of have to agree that Helsknight best matches Oath of Devotion. The oaths especially line up almost perfectly with his knightly tenets:

Courage. Never fear to act, though caution is wise. [May you meet every obstacle with courage, for just as all that emits light must endure burning, all the courageous must make a brother of their fears.]

Honesty. Don't lie or cheat. Let your word be your promise. [May your word be binding as chains.]

Compassion. Aid others, protect the weak, and punish those who threaten them. Show mercy to your foes, but temper it with wisdom. [Any sword raised to the innocent or unarmed in cruelty is blackened by its shame.]

Honor. Treat others with fairness, and let your honorable deeds be an example to them. Do as much good as possible while causing the least amount of harm. [May you respect the honor of your fellow helsmet, that none may know you cruel or slave to vice.]

Duty. Be responsible for your actions and their consequences, protect those entrusted to your care, and obey those who have just authority over you. [May you persevere to the end of any enterprise begun, for the folly is theirs that, through unfinished business, never gain wisdom from deeds done.]

There's also stuff that hasn't been breeched in the plot yet that are... Eerily similar to plot points I have planned. Holy Weapon, for example, I think in the Colosseum Helsknight uses a flamed sword, which is functionally the same as enchanting your weapon with holy damage for the coolness factor [Channel Divinity: Sacred Weapon]. And if you outright asked Hels if he was inspiring, he would probably say no. But anyone within 10ft of him probably wouldn't be charmed against him by someone persuasive like the Demon [7th level Aura of Devotion]. Given how handily I think Helsknight fights Welsknight, and how I think he negates Wels's... For the sake of DnDing I'm going to say fey energy and persuasiveness, Purity of Spirit is a good match.

[Don't have a lot to say about the Lvl20 Holy Nimbus, because tbh that's one of the weakest level 20 paladin boons I think there is. Flat 10 radiant damage every round for enemies within 30ft of you is handy, but the saving throws only have advantage if the spellcasters are fiends and undead, and there are many, many big angry critters in DnD that are neither of those two monster types.]

I do think a Helsknight with access to the spell Flamestrike would be absolutely terrifying though lol.

On a more vibes level, when I started the story, I thought Helsknight was a lot closer to Oath of Conquest, with how he treated Welsknight specifically [which is, incidentally, why my CoS paladin Ashborne is Oath of Conquest]. The tenets don't match Helsknight's too terribly well [they're mostly to the effect of "kill all your enemies so dead that everyone is too terrified to stand against you."] However the Channel Divinities of Conquering Presence [everyone you can see is terrified of you now] and Guided Strike [I'm so pissed at you specifically that I will kill you supernaturally easily] align well with angry chapters 1-8 Helsknight. And one could argue every time he's angry, Tanguish is cowering under the Aura of Conquest [anything scared of you is now too scared to move and takes psychic damage.] And I think in text Helsknight does Scornful Rebuke on the regular [anytime something hits you, they are psychically punished for their audacity up to your Charisma modifier.]

[Level 20 Invincible Conquerer basically turns you into a barbarian paladin, which is badass. Helsknight can't do that, but that's so so cool.]

For the spells, Armor of Agythis as Helsknight's thorns armor is compelling to me, and Command, Hold Person and Fear are just things Helsknight can do to people when he's angry enough [also Compelled Dual, but all paladins get that].

If anything, I feel like Helsknight started RnS as Oath of Conquest, and then when he became friends with Tanguish, switched immediately to Oath of Devotion.

[Meanwhile if I had to make Tanguish a paladin, I think he would be Oath of Redemption, but I'll save that rant for some other time.]

#answering asks #recherche-raptor #dnd paladins #redstone and skulk #helsknight #tanguish #unrelated to the above but last session i got to have Ashborne drop the phrase “i was made to be a sword in the hands of a god.”#which i feel like i wrote almost word for word in RnS last chapter XD #if my DnD table only knew #rns asks

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