ofc I also made Daccapri too
Lolth Sworn Drow Archfey Warlock Dark Urge,,, she is plagued by the voices
I made her to romance Shadowheart. It started as her as Selune worshipper and I got carried away(don’t worry about the Halsins I was fighting demons)
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“𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔…𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒆.”
Yay first post!
I am not finished with the game and I'm over 120+ hours into it! I am in love with every aspect of Baldur’s Gate 3. Still trudging my way through act 3.
I had this idea of my Tav (her name is Camilla) and Astarion telling the group they're exclusive, even though the timing couldn't be worse. Like…we’re about to fight a literal demon and this is what you two are doing?
I love my mischievous little babies. 🦇🧚
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Fey Presence.
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hello everybody and welcome to artsytober, where i try to draw something high-effort for at least half of the month.
here's an oc of mine for day 1: the same oc i use as a pfp! bea fletcher, more well-known as calliope, a pact of the archfey warlock theatre kid who moonlights as a vigilante at night. i thought the first subclass feature was really cool, soooo have something based on it!
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I somehow have never posted about my CoS boi so here's Ulysses who was, at the time of drawing this, just an archfey warlock but later multiclassed into a circle of stars druid.
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“And how am I to trust you?”
She reached towards me, slowly, her withered hand trembling. I could hear the creaking of her bones. She spoke again, the voice agony, a chorus of damnation.
“The bargain is known, Mortal. I grow weaker with every second you falter. Make your decision. Accept while I am still able, or kill me, but do not waste time I no longer have.”
Her words reached through my ears, wanting nothing more than to scrape out the inside of my mind. As she finished, her eyes flared a deep, silvery green. I dropped to my knees, choking, my hand around my neck. I do not remember raising it, or even being without air.
I rose again, gasping and hacking, my ears ringing. My head screamed in protest as I pressed further. My voice, a mouse’s in her gnarled, rotting presence, was barely audible.
“Take you…. to the Font. You-“ I lost my breath and hacked again, heaving.
“You…. You need to be taken to the Font. You’ll provide me an arm, if I take you to the Font.”
“I will. No trickery. A promise. A rare bargain for a filthy Midworlder like yourself. Time is slipping. Make your choice. I will change no part of the bargain, I do not have the power to. The journey will be treacherous, and I have hidden nothing.”
Her arm worked out from beneath her robes, twisted and knotted. Wisps of silver and green drifted from her palm. Her skin was waxy in its sloughing, and thin enough to see her shape through as it clung to her arm. I began to reach outward, and then froze.
“No. The other.”
I felt my other arm began to move. My soul pleaded it to not. I pressed what remained into her hand.
“You… have my thanks.”
Her eyes began to ripple once more, and she laughed, a deep, cavernous sound that cut into my skin and drove me to the ground again, the sound of a thousand hells laying claim to a soul.
“Never give something you don’t know the value of, Mortal…”
My eyes rolled as my bones became a conduit for suffering.
When I woke, she was gone. My arm, knotted and mottled, drew itself across my face. Her voice peeled the enamel from my teeth as it echoed through my body.
“You have given us thanks… now reap the rewards of your gratitude.”
_______
Rule #1: Never give something intangible to the Fey, as part of a bargain.
A hard lesson every feylock must learn.
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