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drabblesandimagines · 13 days

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Nettle Soup

Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense

It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.

It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.

Except it didn’t.

If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were.

Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.

You powered on, as you always do.

Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.

“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”

“I recall you had second helpings.”

Oh, he had you there. Think.

“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”

“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.

“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”

That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”

You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.

You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…

..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.

“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.

“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”

“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”

“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”

Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.

“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”

You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.

A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.

“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”

Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”

Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”

Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…

But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.

You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”

He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.

“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”

You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”

You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.

You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.

You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.

You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.

Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.

He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.

A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.

White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…

You.

It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.

He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.

The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.

“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.

You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...

You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.

“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”

“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.

“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”

“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.

“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.

Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.

The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”

You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.

“You have a fairly high fever.”

“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.

“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”

“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”

He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”

“But-”

“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.

“Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll try – I promise.”

He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.

You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.

“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”

“Oh.”

“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.

“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”

“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.

“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”

You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.

You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.

You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”

Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”

You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”

“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”

“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”

“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.

“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”

You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.

“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”

“I want a kiss.” You mumble.

He must have misheard. “What was that?”

“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”

“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”

“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”

You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”

He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”

“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.

It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.

“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.

“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”

You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.

Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.

He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?

“Is she sick?”

“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”

“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”

Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.

Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”

“Nettles?”

“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”

Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”

“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.

“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”

“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”

“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”

“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”

“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”

“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”

He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.

“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”

“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”

“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”

“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.

“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”

“It matters not-”

“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”

“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.

“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“

“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.

Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.

“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”

Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“

“Wilted ones, they-"

“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”

Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.

“Now, wait a moment!”

Halsin won’t look at you.

You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.

You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.

All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.

It’s driving you mad.

Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.

You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.

You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.

“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”

“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”

“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.

“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”

“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.

“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”

“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.

“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”

“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.

He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”

“I must have done something.”

“You are mistaken.”

“No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”

“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”

You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”

“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”

“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”

“A deal about what?”

“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.

“A deal about what?”

“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”

You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”

The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”

“Advantage?”

“Of your feverish state.”

“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”

“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”

“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”

He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”

“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”

He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”

“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”

“You… truly wish for it still?”

You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”

A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.

As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.

“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"

You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”

He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.

“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”

“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”

It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.

“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”

“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”

“Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”

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#ghostdogwrites #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin fluff

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soulessjourney · 3 months

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One Last Time

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: Just what truly happened during the battle with Ketheric Thorm?

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, OOC Astarion, injuries, talk of mental health, some fluff, Tav is on her journey of having a redeption arc, Confessions, some fluff, Heavy Act 2 Spoilers

A/N: Buckle up kiddies this is gonna be a long one. I did add a bit of my own spin on things in some parts just to help fill in the aspects of the fighting to make it more dramatic.

Ketheric Thorm, a man who defied death and wasn't meant to survive. He bore the responsibility for unleashing the Shadow Curse and cowardly sought refuge in Moonrise Towers, at least that's how you perceived it. Meeting him as a true soul set the stage for your downfall. Upon your arrival, your Guardian, with a hint of disgust in her voice, made you acutely aware of his identity. Being in proximity to the absolute felt like a dream, yet an unsettling feeling lingered. You sensed manipulation, as if you were a mere pawn in his game. Moonrise, though familiar, seemed to beckon you, and the guards appeared well-informed about your identity. Anger and fury welled up within you, resentful of the power he wielded. A part of you contended that this power was rightfully yours, and an irresistible urge to claim it consumed you.

As your eyes follow Thorm out of the room, Astarion clears his throat beside you. "Well, that was eventful. Say, how are we supposed to kill someone who can't be killed? Seems like a setup if you ask me." He shrugs, prompting a scoff from Shadowheart.

"You know, Astarion, I would like to go one day without your comments," she grumbles, eliciting a pout from Astarion and a breathless laugh from you. After about a month or two of being together, your group had grown close, opening up in various ways. Despite only being together for a short time, they appointed you the leader, leading to disagreements, especially with more qualified individuals like Gale.

The banter between Astarion and Shadowheart continues as you walk out of the tower. "I'm just saying, Darling, there's no way in the nine hells we can kill someone who simply cannot be killed. That's like asking a rock to walk," he shrugs, shooting a smug smile toward Shadowheart.

Just as she opens her mouth to respond, you cut them off. "That's enough, you two. The entire Shadow Land can hear your bickering," you grumble as Lae’zel nods in agreement. "Besides, we're almost to the Mausoleum, and it's rude to disturb the dead," you say, suppressing a smile at the pure annoyance on Shadowheart's face. It's rare for Astarion to get the last word, and when he does, he becomes the cockiest man alive.

Falling behind your group, Gale nudges you and raises a questioning brow. It's unusual for you to lag behind, considering your usual determination to lead and be the first to jump into action to protect your party. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asks, keeping his voice low so as not to draw attention.

Shrugging, you fiddle with your armor before letting out a sigh. "I just don't have the best feeling. It's like something is about to happen, and we won't be able to avoid it. I'm worried that whatever we're about to face, there's no coming back from it." Odd feelings weren't unfamiliar to you; after all, you constantly battled the urge to commit daily murders. However, today's unease had you more concerned than usual.

Gale nods, letting out a thoughtful hum as he considers his response. "It's not because I plan on blowing myself up, is it?" he asks, a laugh escaping his lips. His expression turns serious when he notices your lack of laughter. "Tav, everything will be okay. We have each other, and we're all equally dedicated to ensuring our survival. Nothing will happen, and I especially know that Astarion won't let anything happen to you," he says, giving you a knowing look.

You and Astarion shared something, although you weren't sure what it was beyond the occasional intimacy. Both of you were highly protective of each other, yet he dismissed it as shameless flirting. You desired something more with Astarion, but you knew he was apprehensive. He was new to the affection you showed him and unfamiliar with being cared for in a way he had never experienced before.

Just as you were about to respond, a figure emerges from the shadows just before you reach the Mausoleum. Astarion groans at the sight of Raphael gliding towards your group, his usual mischievous smile spread widely across his lips. "Well, well, isn't it my favorite group of adventurers?" he says, stopping just before your group. You step forward, noting how Astarion positions himself behind you, rolling his shoulders forward almost as if to appear larger—a simple act of protection that's hard to resist smiling at. "I know it's odd for a Devil to ask for a favor, but there's something I'll grant you in return," Raphael says, locking his eyes on yours.

Astarion scoffs and crosses his arms. "Just spit it out already; we don't have time for your riddles," he deadpans, shifting closer to you, ready to throw you behind him if Raphael makes a move to harm you.

"Now, now, this isn't the time to lack patience," Raphael says, standing taller. "I need you to take care of a problem, a competition, we can call it. In return, I'll give your little vampire friend answers about the scars on his back—a translation that I know you both are just dying to know." He grins, watching your eyes widen before turning to look back at Astarion. "His name is Yurgir, and dealing with him will do a lot of good. He's breaking his contract and needs to be sent right back to where he came from as a...lesson." He says, looking over your group. "Once you find him, take care of him. I will know, and it will determine if you get the answers you so desperately seek." Just as he finishes his sentence, he disappears right in front of you.

Exhaustion seeps through you as your group stays quiet. "I guess we have some work to do," you mumble, walking forward into the Mausoleum. The others hesitate as they watch you, concerned about your sudden lack of energy. Usually, you would be up for anything, even if it meant dealing with a devil. As you walk into the building, the group exchanges worried glances before following you inside.

---

The confrontation with Yurgir turned out to be surprisingly easy, given his already paranoid state. With his contract entwined in a song, convincing him to turn against his allies, including Nessa, a displacer beast you empathized with, proved to be a straightforward task. In your mind, she didn't deserve to meet her end in the manner she did. Subsequently, you seamlessly entered his paranoid thoughts, persuading him to take his own life. Lae’zel and Astarion, usually at odds, expressed their shared disappointment at the lack of an actual fight to entertain them.

Amidst the discontent, your primary concern shifted to the current state of your group. Shadowheart, driven by determination, sought to complete Shar’s Gauntlet, a symbolic act to ascend and prove her loyalty to her goddess. While you couldn't help but worry about your friend, you understood her desire to seize this opportunity. As she faced the three challenges, ultimately finding the Spear of Night, you sensed a subtle shift in her demeanor.

Standing before the Nightsong, a woman bound to this realm with no apparent escape, you noticed a spark of questioning in Shadowheart's eyes, despite her determination. Confronting Thorm, you learned that releasing the Nightsong was the only way to weaken him and break his hold on immortality. The moment of decision arrived when Shadowheart, succumbing to her doubts, threw the spear over the edge, the mentioning of the forest and the wolves.

A surge of indescribable emotion coursed through you—perhaps pride or worry. It wasn't until Dame Aylin stepped forward, kneeling before Shadowheart, that the situation took a new turn. "Lay a hand of friendship upon me, and break my chains," she gently requested, her eyes meeting Shadowheart's before focusing on you. "Only when I am free can I aid you in taking down Ketheric Thorm." Shadowheart hesitated, glancing back at you for guidance.

Slowly nodding, she reached forward, resting a hand on Dame Aylin, breaking her chains once and for all. A portal opened behind you, and just before you could turn away, your eyes locked on Dame Aylin. Her armor began to form on her skin, and wings emitting a heavenly glow spread out behind her. Despite the look of recognition, all you received was a nod before she took off, leaving your group alone.

---

Now that Dame Aylin was free, things seemed to have accelerated much faster than anticipated. Drained and utterly tired, all you desired was to rest. Your head buzzed, and your ears rang, yet there you stood before Moonrise Towers, gearing up to face Ketheric Thorm. The urgency escalated with Dame Aylin's freedom, and a dark part of you wished she hadn't been released just so you could have some time to recuperate.

As you looked up at the towers, your body tensed when someone moved to stand beside you. A sense of relief washed over you as you saw Astarion. Smiling down, he shifted on his feet. "We're going to win, Darling. You have all of us ready to fight at your side. Don't overthink it," he said, shaking his head to silence any protests. "I can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours," he added with a teasing grin. "But before we go in, can we talk? It's rather important, just in case we do meet our doom in there," he said softly.

Giving a half-hearted smile, you felt the exhaustion seeping out of you. Astarion took your hand, leading you aside as the rest of the group looked at you in question before starting their own conversations, providing you and Astarion with some privacy. "Are you alright?" you asked, scanning him for any injuries he might have sustained.

His expression changed, as if he were at war with himself. "Oh yes, I'm fine. I just... feel awful about something," he admitted. Confusion crept over you as you tried to recall any recent events that might explain his unease. It wasn't until you saw him shift nervously that you gave him a reassuring smile.

He continued, revealing a plan to seduce you, manipulate your feelings, and use you to defeat Cazador. The revelation left a bitter taste of betrayal in your mouth. You shifted, your posture rigid, waiting for an explanation. The truth unfolded—his plan fell apart because he couldn't resist falling for you.

His confession left you grappling with feelings of betrayal and hurt. "Were you even attracted to me? Or was that all a lie as well?" you asked, unable to contain the pain in your voice. His flinch confirmed the discomfort he felt.

Astarion, now uncomfortable and terrified, admitted, "Of course I was attracted to you. Look at you, for goodness’ sake! You’re a vision and so much more than that." He hesitated, expressing uncertainty about his feelings. "I just… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what I want."

You shared your care for him, admitting your deep feelings. His face lit up at your words, and a soft 'really?' hung in the air. Without thinking, you moved forward, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle but secure hug. It felt like a silent promise of your genuine care. As he reciprocated the embrace, you sensed a change in him.

Astarion, being himself, smiled and cleared his throat. "You... You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?" he remarked, his eyes locking with yours, revealing hidden emotions. He let out a nervous laugh, pulling your attention back to him. "Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing or what comes next," he confessed, holding out his hand.

You stared at his hand before placing your palm on top of his. His cool skin covered yours as he drew you closer. "But I know that this? This is nice," he whispered.

There you stood, face flushed, realizing that, in a twisted way, Astarion truly loved you, and you loved him more than anything. Happiness mingled with worry, as he chose this moment to confess, fearing the possibility of not making it out alive. Yet, living in the now, you vowed to fight alongside him, grateful for the truth he finally shared.

Wyll cleared his throat, redirecting your attention to the group standing there, beaming at the two of you. It was evident they had overheard everything, and judging by the look on Shadowheart’s face, a secretly hopeless romantic, they had heard it all.

"Okay, you lovebirds, we have a Thorm on our side that we need to kill," Wyll declared, letting out a loud laugh at his own joke. However, the laughter died down when no one else joined in. An awkward silence hung in the air until you snorted, breaking the tension and sending the rest of your group into fits of laughter.

Even in the face of potential doom, moments like these made you grateful to have them by your side. Wyll looked around, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is. It’s only funny when you put me down," he grumbled, prompting a genuine laugh from Lae’zel. The sound, rare and cherished, resonated among your group, appreciating the unexpected moment of joy.

---

The echoes of your laughter felt like a distant memory as you stood before Ketheric Thorm, anger seeping through you at the sight of him. The yells of your party echoed behind you as they fought against his soldiers, while he remained solely focused on you. Despite being mortal, he carried himself with immense confidence, as if convinced you could never truly defeat him. His smug demeanor fueled your desire to rip his head from his shoulders, yet something kept you rooted in the spot where you stood. Your attention shifted when something hot grazed your arm, prompting a pained yell as you gripped the wounded area. Thorm looked down at you with a smug smile, his eyes darkening.

"Who knew that you would come crawling to my doorstep? Why have you returned? Do you miss the throne in which you once sat?" he taunted, his words striking you like poison.

Although you had been here before, the realization that you used to occupy the throne he now warmed was a revelation. "I’m here to kill you," you declared, your hand warming with the blood seeping from your wounded arm. "I’m here to witness your downfall, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it," you spat, dropping your hand from your arm as you reached for the staff positioned on your back.

Thorm responded with an amused laugh, scanning the surroundings. "You? Kill me? I suppose you didn’t learn your lesson from the last time we had a falling out. Your father would be laughing at you now, seeing his perfect child turning her back on him," he seethed. Your eyes widened slightly before you shook your head. He was trying to toy with you, attempting to make you drop your guard, but you refused to let that happen.

You felt the fire spread through your palms before it traveled across the room toward Thorm. The lack of any reaction from him made you second-guess whether he was truly mortal now. Ascending the stairs, you stood face-to-face with Thorm, narrowing your eyes into a challenging glare. Swinging your weapon, the sound of steel clashing filled the air.

"You have the opportunity to surrender, Thorm. You don’t have to live like this," you declared, your voice stern as you pushed your weight into your weapon.

Thorm laughed and glared down at you. "You’ve become so weak. Your father has done nothing but brag about you, and yet here you are, offering me mercy. You are no daughter of his; no wonder you were cast out," he seethed, lifting his foot to kick you back. Tumbling, your weapon clashed against the ground beside you, and your eyes filled with fire. The urge to rip him apart from the inside out consumed you, and the taste of blood filled your mouth as your body became rigid.

The staff next to you vanished as a long sword with intricate designs slowly appeared in your hand. Standing slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his once more, and a smile settled onto his face. "There she is—the killer your father raised you to be," he said, rolling his shoulders back. A snarl escaped you as you raced forward, only to be thrown back as Dame Aylin slammed down into the area next to you and Thorm.

"Ketheric Thorm, your time is over. Here, you will fall by my hand," she declared as you stood up, your body shaking in rage. "My friend here has kept you busy enough; now it is my turn to aid her in this fight. You should’ve stayed dead," she snarled, leaping forward and landing a hit on Thorm, causing him to stumble back. Seizing the opportunity, you ran from beside her, slicing at him and making him groan in protest as your blade sank into his arm. The two of you fought in sync, one striking after another, knocking Thorm back with each blow.

Just when you thought things would finally be over, Thorm's soldiers stopped fighting, and the room grew quiet. Clutching your side to put pressure on the wound Thorm had given you moments prior, you spat the blood that filled your mouth onto the ground.

"You should’ve just let things rest. We wouldn’t have to go through all this fighting if you just let things remain the way they did," Thorm remarked, glancing toward the side of the roof. As if on cue, a large tentacle sprouted from the side of the building, knocking you off the platform. Landing on the ground a few feet away from Shadowheart, you struggled to suck in the air that was knocked out of your lungs. Helpless, you watched Dame Aylin try her best to fight the tentacle before being wrapped up and taken under the tower.

Shadowheart dropped to her knees beside you, holding a vial up to your lips. "Drink this; you’re in no shape to move," she said, her eyes scanning your body, taking in every wound. "Gods, Tav, you’re going to overwork yourself like this. We can take Thorm while you rest," she suggested gently, attempting to tend to your wounds. Pushing her hand away, you shook your head before sitting up, finally able to catch your breath.

"No, I need to take him down. I won’t leave you guys to fight alone," you grunted, wincing at just how sore your entire body was. Muffling the whimper that left your mouth, you stood before hobbling over towards the hole left in one of the pillars. The others walked up behind you, peering down from beside you. Looking at the others, you nodded before jumping down into the hole, listening as they followed behind you.

---

The path to find Thorm once again was long and grueling as you made your way through the mind-flayer colony. Along the way, you enlisted the help of a small brain that you had saved on the ship when you were first kidnapped. Now, you stood before the door separating you from Thorm. Upon your entrance, you noticed two other individuals with him—the same ones from your visions, but something about them seemed familiar. A chill ran through your bones when you heard her name: Orin. Hearing that name sent waves of anger through you, and you could even taste a small hint of betrayal as you looked at her. Something snapped you from your trance when you noticed Gale step forward. You had completely forgotten that he promised to carry out Mystra’s request, and the anger towards the goddess filled you once more.

“Whatever you are thinking of doing, Gale, it’s not worth it,” you said, meeting his gaze. He looked determined, and the sight broke your heart. “I won’t let you blow yourself up. We can find another way to please her or even save you, but ending your life like this isn’t worth it.” Part of you couldn't figure out why you were determined to save Gale, but the other knew that you needed him there. He was a friend and someone you knew how to talk to, seeking comfort when you weren’t sure how to open up to Astarion.

Astarion stepped up next to you and brushed your fingers with his before looking at Gale. “For once, I agree with our Darling leader here. We can’t afford to lose you just yet. You can blow yourself up another time, but that time isn’t now,” he said, meeting Gale’s eyes with determination.

Gale sighed and nodded as he looked at his two friends—one who was nothing but worried about him and the other begging him, in the most twisted way, to stay alive. “Alright, you’re right. Maybe this isn’t my time to go just yet. We have other opportunities for me to blow myself up. I’ll stay and fight beside you, and I promise to give it my all,” he said, smiling as your body relaxed, and relief filled your worn-down body.

As you stepped forward, Thorm met your gaze, his eyes hardening. "I see you all made it here alive—a shame, truly. I never wanted to hurt you, and I certainly never wanted to kill you. You all had so much to live for," he said, pity filling his voice. Your mind raced as you thought back to the letters you found in the tower. The letters from his wife and daughter gave you a chance at an attempt to convince him.

"Thorm, you don’t need to do this. You could be with Melodia again; you can be with the one you love without consequences," you said softly, stepping forward and wincing as you raised your arms to hold up your hands. "She’s waiting for you to come back to her, and you can finally use this as a chance to see her again." The battle in his eyes was evident. Looking towards Gale, you signaled him to go free Dame Aylin from the hold Thorm had on her. Gale nodded in silent agreement before disappearing from the spot next to you.

If Thorm did see Gale, he paid him no mind. "The goddess wouldn’t allow that to happen, not with what I have done," he said quietly, almost as if he was thinking it over. "Selûne would never allow me to be with her, not after the things that I have done." You couldn’t help but hear the pain in his voice as he spoke. He truly wanted to be with her, and you could see that internal war happening in his head.

"But you can. You can show Selûne that you’re willing to give this all up and give yourself to her. You can show her that you’re willing to sacrifice power just to be with the one person that you truly love." You didn’t know why your voice wobbled or why it felt like you would cry, but then it hit you. You would give everything to be with Astarion; you would sacrifice yourself to see him if he had been taken from you. You would destroy the world or give yourself to a goddess just to see him one last time.

Thorm looked at you for a moment before nodding, and nothing but relief filled you. You weren’t sure if your body could take another fight right at this moment. “You’re right,” he said, “I can be with her, but I apologize for what happens next. I can’t stop it.” You froze at his words. What did he mean by those words? Before you could continue to think, Thorm threw himself over the edge into the green abyss.

Astarion scoffed as he looked at the others. “So you’re telling me all we had to do was convince him that he could see his wife, and he would just end any and all fighting for us? Why didn’t we do that sooner?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Just as he spoke his words, a rumble vibrated around them. Astarion opened his mouth to say something when a large skeletal hand reached up and slammed itself down in front of you, causing you to stumble back to avoid being smashed.

Another rumble sounded, but this time it sounded more like a groan. “I am the haunt of mausoleums, the god of graves and age,” a loud booming voice grumbled as a large figure started to emerge where Thorm had thrown himself. “Of dust and dusk. I am Myrkul, and you have slain my Chosen.” Your eyes widened in recognition. The god of death. You were about to go head-to-head with a god, and part of you just wanted to drop then and there. With your injuries, you had no idea if you would survive this. “But it is no matter, for I am Death. And I am not the end–I am a beginning,” it finished.

Beside you, you heard a gasp from Astarion and the others. “What in the nine hells is that thing?” he asked as you began to back away. The large skeletal figure reached out his hand, and a large scythe flew into his grasp. Sweat began to collect at your brow as the stinging in your side grew. You could taste the bile starting to rise in your throat, and the loss of blood started to catch up with you.

You didn’t miss how Shadowheart looked at you; she knew you were in pain, but you were relieved that the others were oblivious. Biting back a groan, you stood taller, letting your eyes focus on the being before you. “That is a god,” you grumbled, listening to Astarion let out a string of colorful words. Before you had any time to react, Myrkul swung his weapon down towards you, the tip of it catching your leg, causing you to let out a pained yell.

You weren’t sure if it was your yell that set them off or the sudden attack, but as you caught your balance, spells and arrows began to fly through the air toward Myrkul. The moment Dame Aylin was free of her confines, she let out a roar as she aimed to take down the god in front of you. Your head was spinning, and you felt as if the world would go black, but you kept pushing, determined to help your friends. Missiles shot from you, landing their mark as Myrkul let out a screech, swinging his weapons towards everyone. The fight felt as if it went on for hours, years even, before the sight of Astarion and Karlach were thrown off the raised area in which you were standing.

The sight of the lack of movement from Astarion sent a blinding rage through you. A loud and violent scream tore through you as panic filled your very being. You swung your weapon, landing hit after hit on the God of Death. It wasn’t until there was a loud screech from the god that you realized that he had fallen. The sight of Thorm now lying a few feet away from you put you in another blind rage. Stomping towards him, he looked up at you helplessly, fear filling his eyes at the sight of you. He was terrified of dying by your hand, but you paid no mind to the thought. Letting out another scream, you sunk your dagger into him, only to pull it from him and repeat the motions over and over. “This is your fault,” you seethe over and over, the blood coating your face in the process. The feeling of hands on your shoulders and a large body dragging you away had you kicking and screaming as you thrashed in their grip. “No, I need to send him back to where he came from, he doesn’t deserve to see her.” You scream, your eyes focused on the body before you.

A hand cups the back of your head as you’re spun around in the individual’s arms where they press your face to their broad chest. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, but you need to breathe, calm down.” Halsin. His low voice works to calm you as he massages his fingers into the back of your head just above where the now loose knot of your hair sits. You begin to feel your body relax as every ounce of rage leaves you and sobs begin to rack your body. “It’ll be alright, go to him, see if he’s okay,” Halsin whispers, slowly letting you go. You back away and welcome his touch as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, swiping away any tears you had. He looked at you like you were his daughter, and he worried just like any father would.

Nodding, your gaze falls on Astarion before you scramble over to him, falling to your knees. Grabbing his face in your hands, you caress his cold cheeks before shaking him. “Astarion, wake up,” you grumble, shaking him again. “Wake up, or I swear to the Nine Hells I’ll sell my soul to make Raphael bring you back just so I can kill you myself.” You whimpered, when there was no response you let your head fall to rest on his chest as you squeezed your eyes shut.

A hand moves and places itself on the back of your head before you feel his chest rattle with a cough. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Darling, threatening to take my life all over again.” Your body snaps up as he keeps his head on the back of your head before moving it to rest on your cheek, caressing the skin gently.

Smacking his chest, you let out a sniffle as your muscles and wounds scream in pain. “I thought you died,” you sob, looking away from him. His laugh sent a wave of relief through you as his hand took yours.

“I couldn’t leave you, not after threatening to have Raphael bring me back just so you can do the job yourself; that threat was more terrifying than the god we just faced.” He jokes, causing you to let out a breathless laugh as you lean into his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, my sweet, you’re stuck with me.” Nodding, you help him to his feet as you turn to the others.

“Let's get out of here; we deserve to celebrate, especially since we finally broke the shadow curse. A night of drinking and sleep sounds perfect right about now.” You say, watching as your group, no your family, smile and let out a loud yell of celebration with Dame Aylin as she leads the cheers. This was your family, and one you would fight thousands of gods for, even if it means losing yourself in the process.

A/N: She was a long one, but I do hope you guys enjoyed it. I will be turning this into a small series as we get to explore the events that have taken place throughout thier adventure.

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animentality · 5 months

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Durgetash is important to me not because I think the dark urge is themselves the best written character, or even that Enver Gortash, hit by the rushed act 3 curse, is either, but because I see the thematic potential of their romantic relationship.

Orin destroyed the dark urge because of their relationship with Gortash. I'm not projecting that, she literally said it herself in a note. Whether it was romantic or platonic is subject for debate.

But is there a more beautiful way for an evil character to die, than destroyed by their own humanity, the very thing they thought they had abandoned long ago? Is there any more fitting way for evil to be conquered, than by love itself?

Lord of the rings, our genre defining fantasy epic, from which all fantasy must borrow, always proposed the idea that evil always destroys itself in the end. Evil betrays evil. This is why Frodo is not the one to cast the ring into the fires of Mordor in the end.

Baldur's Gate more openly suggests that evil defeated evil, by the conventional way of backstabbing. Orin kills the Dark Urge out of jealousy and lust for power. Whether they die because you pick a Tav, or survive, doesn't matter because it destabilized the plan, it ruined it. Gortash and Ketheric and Orin fall into infighting, just as Saruman betrayed Sauron, just as evil often does in fantasy, and in real life, when dictators and tyrants fight off would be replacements and opportunists.

If the dark urge survives, they become the greatest thorn in the side of evil, if you do the good run, they don't just destabilize the plan, they destroy it. They end it. They save the world from their own destruction.

And that's all well and good. Evil defeats evil, yes, alright.

But if Gortash and the Dark Urge loved each other...

That adds another complex element to that theme.

It suggests that at the end of the day, even the two worst people in the world, the most evil of despots and killers, could still be fallible, vulnerable to the powerful force of goodness and morality that is love.

It could never change them, couldn't truly save them, in fact, because gortash always dies and the dark urge dies in most runs, when you don't pick dark urge as an origin.

But it was still powerful enough to destroy everything they worked for, all the evil they wrought together. It put a stop to their madness.

Evil lost, because of that critical weakness.

That flaw, in Bhaal and Bane's plans.

The fact that humans (you know what I mean) can't live without love, no matter how well groomed they are for death and destruction and cruelty. That humanity, this great, warm sliver of compassion and camaraderie and genuine affection...is just that powerful. All it took was a little slip, a little snip of threads, a small crack, to shatter completely.

It's cheesy as fuck, and it's been done to death, but love truly does conquer all. Who the fuck cares how played out it is?

I'll die for stories that say, over and over, that love will always defeat evil.

Even if it's not in the way you'd expect.

Whether it resulted in the dark urge's complete demise, or was merely the first stepping stone on their path to salvation...

Evil defeating evil is appropriate. Love defeating evil is not as boring as you'd think it would be.

And using two evil characters, who should not love, but did anyway, and allowed themselves to be ruined by it in the end...

Well.

I think that's neat.

I'm utterly demented for even thinking so hard about this, because I think the developers just meant for Gortash to just be this asshole you just have to kill, and the dark urge was just this edge lord asshole who got off on mutilation.

But I can pretend.

#dark urge #durgetash #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash

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orchid-n-petals · 8 months

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So I've already shared parts of this on a discord server, but I have to scream about Ketheric Thorm on here as well. Obviously spoilers about the character under the cut! It's a long one.

The entirety of act 2 is about him, right? Jaheira, Shadowheart and numerous other NPCs shit on him for his fickle faith. First Selune, then Shar, then, as we meet him, Myrkul. You hear about his changes of faith on a whim, you hear that he's the person responsible for the shadow curse, he is painted as a villain, plain and simple.

You can figure it out pretty early on that Isobel was resurrected and that she is his daughter; the detail as well that he wants Isobel alive is so on the nose, it gives him away completely but there are still a few questions that remain unanswered, mainly about his faith.

And then you get to the mausoleum and the picture assembles; this entire tragedy, the death of hundreds if not thousands and the complete ruination of a landscape was all, ALL because you had this absolutely wrenched, heartbroken father who had lost everything and nobody answered his grief. He was left woefully alone, the Goddess whose daughter his daughter was involved with did nothing to save Isobel.

Imagine outliving your wife and your daughter. Imagine dedicating your life to fight the Lady of Loss, your Lady of Silver's enemy, and then be left so completely alone and in silence with your grief, with your loss. It's so, so poetic how and why he turned from Selune, and it's so understandable as well; he broke. His spirit completely broke. He couldn't deal with that void of having lost the only two important people in his life, seemingly undeservedly so. He was going mad with this and a lot of his ire was likely targeted at Aylin who, in his eye, represented Selune; she's literally her daughter, after all, and it was implied that even before the deaths of his family, he sort of saw Aylin courting Isobel as Selune taking his daughter from him, despite his service. This relationship was clearly not seen by him as a boon of "giving his daughter to the Moon-maiden".

His ways in the past clearly didn't spare him from tragedy and having to cope with it (which he clearly didn't, he snapped under the weight of his grief). He was clearly angry and unable to do anything, furious and helpless, which is a dangerous combination. A good part of his first change of heart must have been fuelled by a sense of revenge.

But then Shar didn't provide any balm to his aching heart either. If you read his letters in Grymforge and in act 2, he is so focused on enacting the will of Shar because he believes that healing lies in oblivion. Everything would be easier if he could just forget, if the damn world could just forget, if nothing was remembered because without Melodia and Isobel, nothing was worth remembering.

Then came Myrkul. Literally the only god who was not only able, but WILLING to give back his daughter to him. Imagine spending your all, EVERYTHING you have to serve two gods who would not give a single shit about the greatest suffering in your life. You were basically nothing, your loyalty didn't matter for shit, everything that was taken from you amounted to no recognition whatsoever: you should simply cope and seethe. Your grief will not simply go unanswered (which is not inherently antagonising) but ignored.

And then comes this supposedly evil entity who can alleviate your pain just like that, snap of a finger and it's a done deal.

I am so serious when I say that I believe Ketheric's main incentive was to extend Aylin's immortality to Isobel as well. You can read in her diary that she feels a taint after having came back, and there are things not even Selune can cleanse, but at this point, Ketheric doesn't care about Selune, vengeance is secondary if not tertiary, he's done that war during his Shar years and what did it give him? Literally nothing.

He doesn't even care about the fact that Isobel is still her cleric. He cares about the single most important fact: Isobel is back. Life is worth living again, there is something for him, and it was not Selune or Shar who gave it to him but Myrkul, and for this singular gift, he would raze the world for the Lord of Bones. Like people can clown on him for being disloyal but the man has the loyalty of a dog bonded to its owner.

He is powerful and is willing to go to insane lengths for crumbs. What is raising a single life for a god? Nothing. It has happened and it will happen again. But Ketheric will go to the ends of the earth to serve the single god who actually listened to him. The one god who didn't ignore him.

He knows that what he does is not the morally upright thing! He is so insanely self-aware that allying with Orin and Gortash and doing this entire plot with them only to then betray them is morally reprehensible at the best of times, he knows that people hate him, etc-etc. He was a Selunite at one point and he's not stupid. He just doesn't care; it could be literal Asmodeus and he wouldn't care as long as he got what he wanted, no matter the price.

He is probably the only one from the three of the chosen who has complete clarity over his situation, he almost sways (if you pass the check during his confrontation), he is not an inherently evil man blinded by power.

But he is inherently loyal to those deserving, and as of the story's standing, completely broken by his grief. In his eyes, at this point, the only one deserving loyalty is the one who actually listened to him. Isobel lives. It doesn't matter that she hates him, that his entire life has fallen apart, that literally nothing else that is good has come of it, because Isobel lives.

I don't think he regrets a single thing. His consciousness might tear at him at the end, but I believe he would do everything over again, exactly as he did, because in the end, his daughter was brought back. Because what would a grieving, broken parent give to bring back their child? Everything. Absolutely everything. And it's such a simply given answer, no second thoughts, no doubts.

Nobody can tell me that this man is fickle. Nobody. This man was willing to burn the world to the ground, create a Boudica destruction layer all by himself for the one single thing he wanted. For any God that would listen.

I don't know, I just have a lot of thoughts about his character.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #ketheric thorm #and I also have a lot of thoughts of how Aylin foils him #I fully believe that he was in the right in the capacity that he switched around his gods when he was literally ignored despite his life's #work. despite all that he has given. I think it's reasonable to expect in the world of gods who actively meddle in mortal affairs on their #whims and make shit worse that in just one single case they would. idk. NOT expect one of their devotees to remain blindly loyal to them #after their prayers go unanswered. like yes; go and try your luck elsewhere because this devotion of yours is clearly being taken for #granted. you get NOTHING out of your worship. you can't even sleep well because your loved ones are dead and you are expected to just what?#deal with it on your own? and remain loyal? why?#some sense of 'honour'?#I really like this depiction of faith actually. I really like when clerics and paladins are given agency and critical thought that hey!#this is actually giving me nothing despite me dedicating my entire life to it! and I have only one of it so why not take it somewhere where #it's actually valued. you know. as a treat.#I *personally* much more prefer this depiction of a crisis of faith than what we got with Shadowheart or Lae'zel; their stories are very #interesting on their own but I think throwing yourself from one end to the other not because you actually have a goal that it could serve #but because you are desperate for a purpose #is a slightly less potent character narrative than having an actual goal yourself. not by much but by a little.#again #PERSONALLY

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divorcedwife · 30 days

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i actually made orin and emelin in sims 3 and i gave them ketheric and gortash as roommates, and i just play emelin and let the rest fend for themselves. so far

they all hate each other unsurprisingly

the first thing orin and ketheric did was a pillow fight

now they're always straight up slapping each other instead

emelin cooks food but these idiots are always making their own food anyway and cluttering the counter space. they don't clean ever !!!

emelin invited someone over for a ranked chess match and gortash, who had never met her, decided to fight her??? ??

he lost

the first thing he did when i started the game was dumpster diving. which is good because we had no money at all

i was hoping someone would start a fire or something but so far everyone is alive and accounted for

ketheric is in the military but the scientists have called twice to offer him a better science job. they want him so badly

emelin is on pretty decent terms with everyone but they dont interact with her except to join her chess games sometimes. queen of minding her own business

so i think it's going great

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mumms-the-word · 24 days

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The Shadow Curse Events

If you haven’t already, please enjoy my unnecessarily long totally not me avoiding writing an actual dissertation irl thorough deep dives into Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse!

They are…well, very long, but I wanted to incorporate in-game texts and conversations to give an overall “lore-finding” feel to each post as I was working my way through theories and ideas about how these events unfolded in more or less chronological order.

Each post is written with an attempt to combine elements of in-game books, letters, and conversations with my reasonable(?) conjectures about how things might have happened and an occasional foray into stylistic nonfiction-style writing (which, you know, is interesting when you’re writing about things that didn't actually happen in real life). Basically this started as something I thought was cool and ended with me having, perhaps, a bit too much fun in the nerdiest possible way.

Maybe you’re into that and maybe not. But if you are, then welcome! Please enjoy these deep dives, all of which are linked below c:

Shadow Curse Events Part 1

Ketheric, Selûne, Shar, and Aylin

This first part covers Ketheric's descent from Selûnite devotee to Sharran general following the death of his daughter Isobel. Not only does it touch on him building and training a Sharran army, it also goes over the Selûnite resistance building against him, including one desperate mason named Morfred who makes a deal with a certain devil.

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Shadow Curse Events Part 2

Harpers, druids, and the battle against Ketheric

The second post is all about the Harper/Druid war waged against Ketheric and the days involved in the battle itself. I present this idea that the Harpers and druids sieged Reithwin for several days without attacking and then launched a three-day battle against Ketheric. But a lot of this is conjecture since I'm trying to piece together a bunch of differing accounts about the actual days devoted to fighting and surviving the brief war between the two armies.

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Shadow Curse Events Part 3

The first 40 days

The final post is a kind of walkthrough of the first 40 days of the shadow curse from the moment Ketheric dies to about 40 days later. I chose 40 only because it's vaguely symbolic in various cultures, but also because one diary I used to construct the timeline here ends on day 35, and that felt like a weird number to end on too, so...I added a few days. Anyway, this might be the most experimental of the posts, but it was fun(?) to try and place myself in these past events to imagine how the landscape changed into what we see 100+ years later walking into this area with our Tavs and companions.

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In the end, these posts were just for fun and are not meant to try and convince anybody that my theories are absolutely 100% the way things happened. What I find interesting about this little deep dive journey is that it mimics trying to piece together actual history too. Everyone will have a different account or perspective on historical events, so trying to stitch together a narrative 100+ years later becomes an exercise in drawing sensible conclusions and admitting you can't fill all the gaps.

I could very well be wrong in my theories, and someone else could come up with a way better logical conclusion than I did. That's awesome! Maybe these posts will help others come up with cool theories too.

But anyway. Enjoy my long-winded ramblings about fictional events in a video game that I have put way too many hours into :)

#bg3 #bg3 discourse #bg3 theory #bg3 critical #bg3 brainrot #bg3 headcanons #ketheric thorm #halsin #halsin silverbough #jaheira #I mean halsin and jaheira are mentioned in all of these because they were there obvi #also promoting this because i worked hard on these #and because i don't have anything else to promote for a minute #because now i can no longer ignore my dissertation

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fullmoonandstar · 3 months

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I can't let you go

Gale x Reader/unnamed Tav x Astarion

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5 k

Cw: polyamory, mentions of the orb and all it entails, angst, anger

Summary: Gale made you choose between Astarion and him, and none of you were happy with your decision. After you prevented him from detonating the orb and killing Ketheric Thorm, you find a purposeless Gale, who questions his decision and his complicated feelings for you.

AN: inspired by a dream I had after Gale made me choose between him and Astarion.

The harpers had cleared the first floor of Moonrise Towers and you had set up camp in the former dormitory. A fire was burning in the hearth and despite your win over Ketheric Thorm the atmosphere was tense and sober. You knew now what you were truly up against, but the change from having to fight a god to fighting an elder brain wasn't a relief. At least the shadows felt less dense and dangerous outside the protective bubble of the moon lanterns.

You looked around the room. Halsin was talking to Thaniel and Art, Lae'zel polished her weapons, Shadowheart was meditating, Astarion had sneaked off, probably to find something valuable that could go in his bag. But someone else was missing too, Gale. You had a bad feeling not seeing him anywhere that you could not explain and you jumped up looking for him. You found him in a small room, siting on the floor and staring into the fire.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. It hurt you seeing him like this. Gale had worn an open smile the first time you met him and had continued to charm you with his corny humour and passion for knowledge. But that had changed, and it was your fault, at least partially. He had feelings for you, and it came to a heartbreaking scene when you showed genuine interest in Astarion. The others didn't really understand what you and him had. Yes, he was an asshole often, but the more time you spent together, the more you could see the years of hardship and trauma splintering away like an old coat of paint. He seemed to slowly reclaim the person he is, and you loved seeing him bloom. When Gale caught on, he confronted you about it, made you choose between him and Astarion, and well, you could not let go of Astarion. This had been shortly before you had met Elminster and heard about the grim task Mystra had bestowed upon Gale. As hard as he tried, Gale was unable to hide his feelings completely. All of this weight heavy on him. He had been handed a suicide mission and you had prevented him from even doing that.

He noticed you standing in the door finally, but his gaze only flickered to you briefly.

“I should've done it, it would be all over if I hadn’t failed.”

It sounds more like “you made me fail” to you, and anger bubbled up in your chest.

“What did you expect me to do?" you snapped. "Let you kill yourself? Is that what you wanted?!”

“Maybe that would have been better! What was I thinking?” He jumped to his feet, restless.

“If you think for one moment I would let you sacrifice yourself just like that…” you left the sentence hang.

“What is it to you if live or die? It’s my life!”

You gasp, flail your hands, not knowing what else could relieve the outrage, and you feel your face burn.

“What is it to me? WHAT IS IT ME?!” If you were Karlach, you would surely set this place on fire.

“Gods for some smart ass wizard, you're pretty dumb.”

Gale opened his mouth to release a retort, but you continued: “I killed an immortal for you and so the gods help me, I’d do it again.”

You rarely raise your voice and certainly not at him, Gale is stunned and furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I love you, you idiot!”

The burning anger reached your eyes and your vision blurred. Gale just stared at you, frozen in place, mouth hanging open. It would have been funny to see him so utterly speechless, if you weren't so overwhelmed with other emotions. How could he be so stupid, so blind to your feelings? Yes, you had rejected him, but it had not been an easy decision. You knew Astarion had no problem with you seeing other people and even if he teased Gale, he cared more for the wizard than he let on. When Elminster stayed at your camp, he was appalled at the request and voiced his concern for Gale and you had not been able to sleep for days after.

“I would fucking do anything so you don’t have to blow yourself up, Gale.”

When he whispered your name, all the pent-up frustration with Mystra, Elminster and Gale evaporated and left you a deflated crying mess. Your knees felt like they would give out at any moment now. You heard shoes scuff over the stone floor and arm locked tight around your upper body. You let your head sink into Gale's shoulder, and your neck tickled with his hot breath when he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The emotions drain out of you freely as you cry into Gale's robes, and he held you until the tears and sobs finally stop. His hold on you loosened, and you reluctantly pull back, but not too far. You must have looked miserable, but you gathered your little bit of strength you still had and took his hands in yours.

“Please, Gale, trust me on this. We’ll find a way to deal with the orb. I can’t lose you, please. Stay with me.”

His eyes took in your face, studying it while the gears in his head turned, but he kept getting stuck on your lips. He pulled his hands out of your grasp and cupped your face. You leaned in when Gale did and your lips brushed softly at first then emotion. You felt flashes of dread and anxiety through your shared psychic connection. Of course, Gale didn't want to die but ever since the orb had entered his life through his own hubris he had been haunted by the disappointment of Mystra and the ever looming threat of killing everyone and everything in a days travel distance. After the meeting with Elminster, his days had been numbered and his goddess had given him a clear way out and yet he still breathed passed his due date and it was because of you. You stopped him. If it had been anyone else, he would have gone through and had just let go but he couldn't look into your blood smeared face pleading him to not do it and dismiss it. Part of Gale resented how important you were to him and how he was not first in your heart. For you this was not how the situation was. What you had confessed in anger was not less true because of it. You feelings for Gale had only grown stronger even if you tried to not to let them show. It had been hard enough on him and you didn't want to complicate things further.

The kiss ended and you rest your forehead against Gale’s

“I’m not going to leave. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” Gale whispers. His hands rested on your hips.

It sounded like it was suppose to be humorous but you could only muster the strength for a weak smile. You took his face between your hands and he leaned into your touch.

“Listen,” you started, “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with but I’m selfish and greedy and it’s literally the end of the world.”

He was opening his mouth to say something but you quickly continued: “Please be by my side.”

Gale stayed silent and with every passing beat your heart sank. You let go of his face, mumbled an apology about misreading the signs and extracted yourself from his arms. Without looking at him you tried to flee into the dark hallway.

He caught your hand.

“Wait.”

Gale takes your hand into both of his and you met his eyes. There was something in them that you could not read. He sighed in resignation and kissed the back of your hand.

“I’ll try. For you, I will try but no promises.”

You were stunned, and the words needed a moment to process in your mind. When they finally did render, you practically jumped into his arms and he could hear his ribs crack when you pulled him into a bone crushing hug. This was more than you could have hoped for. If there had been any water left in your body you would have cried again.

“Finally.”

Gale’s head snapped in the direction of the voice, but you didn't have to look to know who it was. Astarion leaned casually in the open door to the hallway as if he had been there the whole When you were both aware of his presence, he pushed away from it and walked over. He fixed Gale with his red eyes, hands on his hips like a mother about to deliver a scolding, and Gale twitched in your arms.

“They’ve been inconsolable for weeks." he waved in your direction. Gale didn't say anything, so Astarion continued: "but it seems you have finally come to your senses. That’s what a brush with death does to you, I guess.”

What Astarion did next surprised Gale, you could feel it in the way he stiffened. Astarion closed the distance and threw his arms around both of you. After the initial shock, Gale relaxed into this unusual hug, and you smiled into his shoulder.

At that moment, at least it seemed things could be okay.

Check my Masterlist for more

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale x reader #astarion x reader #gale x reader x Astarion #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios

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pupmkincake2000 · 2 months

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Some thoughts.

Okay, Halsin, what the hell?

When I was playing Gale origin, I didn't know what lines to choose so I pushed any friendly dialogue button I saw so it felt okay when Halsin offered me to be his lover. Everything I had to do was to refuse his offer. This time (playing Astarion origin) I was extremely careful and didn't choose a single line that could trigger such a dialogur, even friendship ones. I did not ask him about his past (lovers) or whether he has potential partners, I only talked about helping to save Thaniel, but Halsin still offers me a polyamorous relationship and sex! Hinting that he went to Baldur's Gate with us because of... us, right after a fight with Ketheric. With Gale it felt normal because, again, I didn't know what lines to pick. But with Astarion it feels at least strange.

I mean, why? I didn't cross the line when talking to him this time. When I played Gale origin, I wasn't sure what lines would trigger his proposal, but now I've carefully avoided anything undesirable and yet he still offers me sex! God, I do love this bear, he is the walking embodiment of everything I could love in a man, both his appearance and personality is a masterpiece, except for polyamory, because it is not my cup of tea, not in this case at least, but now it is his behavior that makes me feel disapointed in him. And what infuriates me most is the confidence with which he says I also feel attracted to him, although - again! - I carefully avoided any potentially dangerous lines that could trigger his confession. What's going on with this character? So to be just friendly with him is enough to get these scenes?

Since my Astarion is in a relationship with Gale, I decided to look at his (Gale's ) reaction if he was offered such an open relationship. I decided to try different lines and it really made me smile that Gale’s first thought about adding a third person to the relationship was a child.

Also, as I thought, Gale is monogamous in a relationship and is not ready to share. I like that he speaks openly about it and to some extent even with anger that he does not agree to this, in fact, that’s why I like him.

And it was really painful to choose a line about breaking up, even if it was just to see his reaction. I never want to see that pain on his face again. This only lasts a few moments, but his disappointment in love, in the very concept of relationships, is very palpable.

I think that after such a “betrayal” he wouldn't soon decide to open his heart to someone or would not dare at all. I think that's why I like him so much. And that's why I like their relationship with Astarion. Gale is ready to give his all for someone he loves, and Astarion (at least this is very much in his character after so many years of hardship and suffering) will tightly hold on to what he considers his.

Of course, Gale can be persuaded to have sex with the drow twins (I checked this too), but I consider this a flaw on the part of the developers. You may not agree with me, but I think it isn't in his character.

Because a person who so vehemently argued that two lovers should be dedicated only to each other would hardly agree to such a thing. Same story with Astarion. People say he agrees to have sex with the twins once he's completely free of Cazador, but the narrator's words make it abundantly clear that he's still not into it: "his mind is miles away."

And the fact that Gale has to be persuaded… his first reactions tell a lot. This is clearly not in his character too. I would never believe that a person who kicks the cat out of the bedroom while changing clothes would easily agree to such a thing.

Most likely, the opportunity to persuade him to do something like this is necessary for the variability of the game, no more. In addition, Gale leaves his copy in a room that just watches this makingout, he takes no part in it. People might assume, of course, that he shouldn't/cannot have sex because of the orb, but there was nothing stopping him from sleeping with Astarion before they reached Baldur's Gate. However, it seems strange to me that after this he does not break up with Astarion/Tav/whoever or at least discusses the thing. It’s probably still a flaw on the part of the developers, because Gale doesn’t react to the situation at all. And this despite the fact that he only recently screamed about how he categorically does not accept such things.

Therefore, I believe that in order not to mislead people, the developers need to stick to the character's personality as they were intended. If a character is meant to be monogamous, then why do they need lines that suit polyamorous characters only? I understand that the game is variable, but this is not about the plot, but about the characters, whose personality has already been developed and established.

Just saying.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #gale x astarion #gale of waterdeep #astarion x gale #galestarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #halsin #larian studios #larian #gale dekarios #bloodweave

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sorcerous-caress · 7 months

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Dead men's thrones | Minthara

[ Dark content, descriptions of gore, choking, smut, gender ambiguous reader, after moonrise fight]

[ dark urge Reader ]

In a way, you thought, this scene did look familiar.

The same cold stone walls unburdened by the soft lighting of the candle flames, the same rows of wooden pews lining up from the entrance. Several gods had come and gone long ago, giving a resemblance of a purpose to the cathedral and religious imagery that Ketheric adorned his throne room with.

It was exactly like the first day you took a step here, the first time you really saw her truly desperate, the way they relished in breaking her. Sadistic hearts beating at the sight of a powerful drow woman almost falling to her knees.

There was nothing you wanted to do more than to bathe in their blood at that moment, only then will whatever filth they dragged Minthara into be cleansed.

And yet, when you look at her in this moment, the stone throne does suit her much more than it did for Ketheric.

Adjusting your position on her lap, you took a good look at the very put together women below you. She was whole again. It was you who pulled her over the edge, you who's path was littered with the corpses of both the innocent and the guilty, sacrifices for her sake. Be it innocent tieflings or the chosen of Myrkul.

Wrapping your arms around her neck, you leaned into her even more. Wanting to feel more of her, smell more and taste more.

With a slow drag of your tongue against the side of her neck, you bit down on the spider web tattoo that marked it. And to think you almost gave in to the urge to snap her neck back during your first time together.

Minthara's hand took a hold of the nape of your neck, pushing you further into her as if to encourage you to bite deeper.

She never shied away from your teeth or claws, in fact she seemed delighted. Maybe because she knew even a feral dog will stay loyal to their mistress. Or maybe it was the pleasure she took in disciplining you, getting you to obey and behave, but only to her.

Power and authority suited her, it was in her blood from the moment she was born as a possible matron for the Baerne house. It's so deeply engraved inside her that it might as well be a part of her.

She thinks she is incomplete without it, and so you'd gather all the power in the world at her feet like any loyal dog should.

Pulling away from her neck, you met her crimson eyes with your hunger filled ones. Moving your hips against her thighs, wanting her to touch you, finger you, fuck you, choke you, stab you and even murder you right here and now. To your holes filled brain, every option seemed even more arousing than the last.

You were burning too hot, the primal urge inside you tearing at the seams of your brain and threatening to pour out in a parade of gore and sex.

Maybe she sensed that, she was always exceptionally good at reading people, too good at seeing through you.

The same hand on your nape guided you back to her, anchoring you amidst the raging river of bloodlust just like you anchored her amidst that storm in her brain merely a few weeks ago.

Her delicate lips met yours, slowly giving you a taste of what's to come. She took her time as she kissed you with deep passion, a controlled calm pace to match your hungry desperate one.

Your noises echoed through the empty room, the two of you were the only souls left in the entire tower.

The more she kissed you the quieter these voices became, the calmer the river's stream turned. How expertly she stole the lead from you and made you melt on her lap, how the taste of her lips will be the only thing you'd be able to remember on your deathbed.

Would she be next to you then? Or will her toll come before yours.

You hoped that the thought of death stealing you away from her would fill her with jealousy, that the envy at seeing her favourite pet be taken would be enough to convince her to take your life herself.

A shiver ran up your spine at the idea, heat pooling between your legs as you kept seeking relief with your movement on her lap. If you had no choice but to go out, then parting with this world through her hands was your catharsis.

Her other hand spread your legs on top of her even more, fingers pressing against your lower stomach and slightly pushing your needy insides against each other. Trailing lower and lower at an agonising pace, feather light touches teasing you and toying with you.

It was getting harder to contain yourself, leaking through your clothes and dripping against the stone seat of the throne. Each of your legs were hooked on an armrest to keep you open for her.

Yes, this was definitely a much better use for this throne than whatever Ketheric was doing with it. It was meant for Minthara to sit on as she made a leaking mess out of you, one that'd surely stain it.

Part of you would kill to see the look on his face now, alas corpses weren't known for being very animated.

But maybe if you hadn't killed him so fast, dragging him in front of his own throne as he watched the mad dog and their mistress indulge in various acts of blasphemy.

Tainting the paladin's holy room of prayer and worship.

Your cum and his guts, that was the perfect decoration this room was missing.

Breaking the kiss, Minthara eyed your clothes before looking at you expectantly. Removing yourself from her lap as you stood up, you stripped off everything that might get in her way, completely naked and defenceless as you sat back on her lap.

Her own clothes and leather armour were freshly out of battle, blood covering it and latching onto your skin the more you pressed your naked body to her.

It was intoxicating.

A satisfied smile painted her lips at your obedience. Her hands start feeling up your body, squeezing your thighs, feeling the inside of your hips, teasing the sides below your waist.

She was focused on you, eyes memorising every curve and blemish on your skin.

Reaching your chest, she toyed with your nipples and squeezed, making them even more sensitive the longer she went on.

Arching your back, your hands trembled with each flick and pull. Breath getting heavier as she unravelled you completely with a simple fondling to your chest.

More wetness collected onto the stone below, maybe if she leaned over and bit them you'd actually finish completely untouched.

But her hands retracted, leaving you a panting mess, much to her satisfaction and amusement

She was getting off on this, you knew, nothing got her pussy wetter than her power over you. Nothing made her ache more than having you naked at her mercy while she held the end of the leash to your collar.

Electric pleasure shot through you as you felt her touch between your spread legs, her hand soaking in your mess as it moved against you.

You moved your hips to meet her rhythm, grinding against her hand.

Nothing else mattered in that moment, nothing but the way pure pleasure numbed your brain and quieted your thoughts. Her fingers felt just right as they soothed the fire in your core.

You felt like you never wanted her to stop, even after you become an overstimulated sensitive mumbling mess, even if Bhaal himself came through these doors right now, you wouldn't want her to stop. Gods be damned.

The sound of your obscene moaning filled the room, not a grain of shame in your mind as you let Minthara know how much you enjoyed this.

You were getting closer.

You were getting closer and she is still fully clothed.

You were getting closer and the fresh dead bodies awaited just outside, in the halls.

You were getting closer and there was still a tadpole in your brain, squirming and threatening to burst tentacles through your skull at any given second.

You were getting closer and the shadow curse still loomed outside these walls, threatening to swallow the two of you and marking this throne as your gravestone.

You were getting closer and still can't fucking remember anything besides your own cursed name since the second you awoke on top that damn ship.

Her hand sped up, your vision blurred.

The holes in your brain, who did it, who the fuck did this to you.

Your moans got louder.

You're almost there, pain and pleasure mixing together, intoxicating agony, the white flames from the depths of Stygia itself bubbling through your veins as the burning ice of Cania bled down your throat and spread through your lungs.

Her other hand took a hold of your throat, never stopping her relentless pace.

You're going to cave their skulls in, you're going to peel off their flesh and sew it back on. You'll drown them in a puddle of their own piss and blood, you'll pluck out their eyes and force them to swallow it. You'll stomp out their face until none of their features are recognisable anymore. You'll perform all kinds of vivisections on them as they watch their organs extracted before choking them with their own colon.

There's a burning in your lungs, you're out of air.

Her grip on your throat tightens.

You've never felt greater pleasure before.

With a final stutter to your hips, your orgasm sparks through you like an explosion, tensing every muscle in your body as it sets it on fire, melting your bones and blackening your vision.

Minthara releases your throat.

Her wet fingers press against your lips, after you regain your breath, covered in your own cum.

You lick them clean, tasting yourself mixed with traces of blood.

Guiding you by the nape again, she kisses you softly. Putting you back together after completely tearing you apart, making you whole again in her embrace.

#♡minthara #minthara x reader #bg3 x reader #minthara baenre #♡Smut #bg3 smut #smut #♡angst #angst #tw dark content #tw graphic #tw choking #♡dark content #Dark urge reader #♡Durge reader #Minthara x dark urge

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iplaytillifallasleep · 5 months

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Orin and Durge have their disagreements - Orin is not happy how Durge is running the temple and Durge teaching Orin what Bhaal likes, and offended Orin that her imperfection maybe because of her diluted blood, while Durge is the sole kin and came from blood of Bhaal, Durge is the only one who understands him. Durge does praise Orin saying that she kills beautifully and even Durge cannot achieve that kind of talent/skill.

Orin responds to Durge’s letter - with a threat because her freedom got limited since she gets to spend her time with the other “Chosen” - hence she will craft herself a better Chosen - by putting a worm on Durge’s head to become mindless.

These are all possible because Orin saw the letter of Apology Durge created and felt disgusted by it.

From the Memoirs of Gortash. They met with Ketheric first, Gortash discovered that there was a mind flayer colony and did crown of Karsus Heist. Then the raid to capture and enslave the elder brain. Orin beat up Durge and put a worm in its head. As mentioned, Durge was the very first to be “enslaved”. Then Orin presented herself to the other 2 chosen declaring that they went on a duel she is now the new Chosen. Gortash as one of the original initiator of the plan cannot delay the raid because of leadership issues of one of their allies, it will meant to disrespect the other Chosens and their Gods.

Ketheric was not happy as well with your presence since you came to be commanding in Moonrise towers - which is his domain. The guards were advised by Ketheric to show outmost respect but Durge already asserts its dominance which they believe Durge haven’t earned yet - this was also mentioned by the warden.

Ketheric said that Myrkul mentioned to join with “Orin” and Gortash as part of the Chosen, Durge was never mentioned, as a prize Myrkul will revive his daughter. So Ketheric was just waiting for you to be replaced by Orin. (But in the end when Durge and Ketheric meant - an option will be given if Ketheric will repent to the things he had done, succeeding that option and you will not fight Ketheric but he will throw himself and fight avatar of Myrkul instead.)

After disabling Durge - since it happened in Moonrise and Ketheric is aware - he asked Balthazar to take care of it, to make it a thrall. But since Durge was so beat up, no one expected that Durge will still live until Kressa repaired Durge.

Gortash from his memoirs created a strike team to get the Astral Prism as it serves as a threat to their plans, with the Emperor leading it. Kressas’ husband plead to Balthazar to send away Durge since his wife has been obsessed and doesn’t act like her since the thing arrived. Balthazar then includes Durge in the nautiloid.

Gortash and Durge’s relationship from wiki explains that their relationship is built on mutual respect. They understood the value of alliance, but in the end, it is a battle of dominance, who’s Chosen will win, and who is the God that will prevail. Each of them have plans to either betray or kill each other and control. It just so happens that Gortash plans to defer all none Bane allies to them, Gortash plans to rule over his allies, but with Durge, Bhaal is in the way. That’s why when he founds out that Durge rejected Bhaal - he was thrilled. Happy even, that Durge is not bound anymore to Bhaal, It’s may also be possible that Gortash read the letter of Durge. And sees that the problem with their relationship is that Durge is being held in the neck by Bhaal and the reason for the urges. Gortash understoods that. It also explains why he was genuinely happy when Durge went into his coronation.

I��m sorry, this took longer than I expected, this is just my headcanon. Don’t fight me.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #enver gortash #gortash x durge #lord gortash #bg3 gortash #dark urge x gortash #baldurs gate gortash #durgetash #ketheric thorm #bg3 ketheric #bg3 orin #orin the red

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parkkiablah · 5 months

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Your writing is soooo good! I've loved everything you've done .

Could I give a prompt of Zevlor X Tiefling Tav ( purple Tielfing )

That after she's rescued the tieflings from moonrise and discovered that Zevlor is missing. There heart breaks as they think they now have forever missed the chance to tell him there true feelings 💔

But they take that anger and sadness and fight kethric and when they find zevlor and maybe bring him with them to finish the fight ( I wish we could bring him with us in game )

Anyway they get back to camp and Tav ignores everyone and looks for zevlor and when they find him they hug him and there tail wraps around his.

(Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it 🧡)

Lost Chance? (Zevlor x Tiefling Tav)

You sneaked into the prison area of Moonlight Towers, looking for the tiefling refugees here.

When you heard what happened it was out of question for you to get them out of here, they were your kind after all and you grew fond of them, sharing the same burden of judgement the people held against tieflings.

You still didn't believe that Zevlor just betrayed them. There had to be more to it than just that and you had to talk to him about it.

When you found the prison cells you were happy to finally have found them. Lia stood at the front of the cell, telling you to talk to the gnomes in the other cell as they seemed to plan something.

And so you did. It wasn't easy to find a way to talk to them without the prison guards starting to be suspicious of you but you managed. Wulbren had asked for something to break through the walls of the cell and you threw an heavy weapon you had with you inside the cell, careful not to be caught in the act.

You were sure you had to fight the guards around anyway so you thought it would be a good option to use as a distraction of what the gnomes and tieflings did in the cells.

The gnomes had quickly destroyed the wall in their cell, revealing a tunnel to the tiefling's cell and to a small boat.

They waited before they left, obviously unsure where to go.

Scanning the group of them you didn't notice Zevlor being with them. Was he not here?

"Is Zevlor not with you?", you asked them.

"They brought him somewhere else, no idea what kind of plan they had for him.", Cal responded.

You were stunned and shocked. It couldn't be. Did they torture him? Or kill him right away? Your mind was wandering on all the worst scenarios and you couldn't stop feeling helpless.

He couldn't be dead. It just couldn't be.

It would mean you missed your chance to tell him how you felt for him.

You didn't know him for a long time, yet you couldn't help feeling warm whenever you talked to him, feeling comfortable yet nervous, feeling your heart beat faster when he just looked at you. There was no way you could deny your feelings for him and right in that moment you felt lost.

Zevlor wasn't here and knowing how cruel the Absolute was it wouldn't be a surprise to you if they had killed him. And realizing that was like a hit in the stomach.

You missed your chance.

Or that's what you believed when you were fighting Ketheric. Your anger and frustration obviously showing and it made the fight on the roof of Moonrise towers a short one, when Ketheric disappeared into the Mindflayer colony.

Following him you noticed the amount of tunnels formed inside of the colony and finding the way towards Ketheric would probably take a while.

Stumbling through the many tunnels and finding one dead end after the other you walked into a room with some of the pods you had been in as well a while ago. The first one of them showed a Mindflayer while the next one was empty.

When your eyes saw the third one you couldn't believe your eyes for a second. Zevlor was stuck in there.

He was alive.

Your hands found the mechanism opening the pods in no time and you didn't care about the Mindflayers you had to fight. You would fight hundreds of them if you had to.

The fight was a short one, Zevlor fighting with you and his blade easily cutting through the enemies.

Still in disbelieve you watched as his blade cut through the last enemy. He turned around to you, blood covering his face aside his tired expression and yet you couldn't find him any less attractive than the last time you had seen him.

"Thank you. I really thought it was over for me.", he said, his face showing relief.

You tried holding back any emotions trying to run through your body, after all you still had to fight and defeat Ketheric.

"I'm glad we have found you. I was worried when I didn't see you with the others.", you said.

"The others.. what happened to them?"

His voice was heavy with guilt and you were curious to hear his part of the story once you got out of here.

"I saved all I could. Some where in prison here but they are safe."

"I have no right worrying about them but I can't thank you enough for saving them once again."

"Would you join me in the next fight? I could use your help.", you asked him and hoped he won't refuse. You couldn't stand the thought of him being out of your sight again.

"I don't think this is a good idea, the Absolute made me turn against my people once already and I don't want to find my blade in your back.", he said, his face showing worry and defeat.

"I trust you. Please join us.", you said. Your eyes were locked with his as he tried to find a way to say no to you. He looked at you for a few seconds before a sigh left his lips.

"I will do my best to assist you.", he finally replied and you were happy to have him with you in the upcoming fight.

Knowing him by your side made you feel at ease and even more so when you defeated Ketheric.

It was a lot to take in, yet you pushed most of the information to the back of your mind, your priority was to have a chance to talk to Zevlor outside of the Mindflayer colony you were still in.

Your camp was set up inside of Moonrise towers today as you successfully defeated all the enemies inside of here.

Aylin and Isobel were the first to approach you, Jaheira tried a moment later, yet you turned them down and told them you would talk later.

You just wanted to find Zevlor right now.

He was standing outside of the door to Moonrise towers, looking into the distance while he was obviously deep in thought with his back facing you.

"Zevlor.", you called out his name and he turned around. Thats when you collided with his chest, the impact made him take a step back or he would have fallen, your arms around his waist and your face burried in his chest.

You stood there for a moment when you felt his arms slowly close around you, pressing you closer to his body and his head resting against yours.

Your tail searched for his, wrapping around it slowly and you felt him do the same. Tails wrapped around each other many times, twisted together like you never wanted to let go of him.

Thats when you couldn't hold your emotions back anymore. You quietly sobbed into his chest and he held you even closer.

"I thought I had lost you.", you sobbed, having a hard time forming words with the sobs shaking through your body.

His hands caressed your back, trying to calm your shaking form and offer some comfort.

"I am here. You saved me again and I can't thank you enough for it.", he whispered into your ear.

He held you like that for a while, chest moving with his steady breathing that camled you down while your sobs became less frequent.

You loosened the embrace, wiping your face and hiding your face from him.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be such a mess right now."

His hands found your cheeks and lifted your face to look at him.

"No need to apologize. You can cry on my shoulder anytime you need.", he said quietly.

Your eyes wandered over his face, blood still clinging to his skin and his eyes full of worry. His thumbs wiped over your cheeks to remove the tears, who were still wet on your skin and you relaxed into the simple caress of his fingers.

"I really thought I had lost my chance to tell you..", you whispered and he looked at you like he was waiting for you to continue talking. "I love you, Zevlor. I know we didn't have much time together and we don't know each other well but I can't help feeling-"

He cut you off with his lips on yours. Your eyes were wide for a moment, trying to realize what is happening before you closed them and relaxed into the kiss. Lips softly moving against each other, his hands still cupping your face, holding you gently while your tails were still wrapped around each other.

"I feel the same.", he whispered when you had parted for a moment, only to find you press your lips onto his again.

#bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #tiefling tav #zevlor x tiefling tav

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missygoesmeow · 2 months

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missy's tips for honour mode :) (it's very long I'm sorry) (oh and here be many spoilers) (but pictures too!)

please note I am not a pro gamer or anything. I sucked so bad when I first started this game (I had no idea wtf I was doing). Like seriously. I didn't know what an action was. what a bonus action was. "No movement left". WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO MOVEMENT LEFT. I had played DnD once before.

I literally bought this game because of Astarion.

I usually play one game and that is Overwatch. the only other time I stopped playing OW was to play Resident Evil: Village because of Lady D. vampire marketing works on me. specifically evil vampire. damn u Neil and Maggie.

if you have any questions about a specific boss or something feel free to ask! I didn't fight everyone though - like I did not do House of Grief because I didn't need to and also it's hard :)

I think a lot of it just came on down to...

ANYWAY. letsa go! this is very rambling!

Like I said in my reply to anon, the best tip is to do tactician FIRST. You’ll get destroyed otherwise. I didn’t finish my tactician run but I did get to act 3 and I did most boss fights (Gortash, Raphael, Cazador). Bosses have legendary actions in tactician and it’s fucking annoying. All the homies hate radiant retort….

Another tip is fucking collect everything. It’s hard to get gold and certain potion ingredients later on. Potion of Speed (you need hyena ears for this) is the BEST. I used them for my Ketheric fight (second phase) and killed him in three turns. I also used them for the final fight and used one or two with Raphael and Orin.

Smokepowder Barrels. I think people call this Barrelmancy? I didn't use them much. I hoarded them for one reason and one reason only.

To blow Raphael.

His soul pillar towers that is. To blow up his pillars. His big long pillars.

Okay I'm done.

(also I did use three in my last fight against the brain - popped them next to it and blew 'em up) Elixir of Bloodlust - sooooo handy with Astarion!

Invisibility Potion is a must - I used this to escape fights when three people were deaded (this happened a few times😅) and get my good friend Withers to bring them back.

bonus tip: don't go into a fight with half your spell slots because you think "she'll be right". she won't be...as seen above

HOLY FUCK WITHERS. You can pickpocket Withers. I used Astarion to get our money back anytime I resurrected, changed class or got a hireling - he doesn’t care if you fail either, just keep trying.

DON'T BE DUMB LIKE MISSY Don't be like me, don't half pay attention in cut scenes and accidentally press the wrong dialogue option. Or else your good friend Lae'zel will turn on you and you will have A Bad Time.

Gale has a stressful day💗

The githyanki are scary and actually now that I think about it, those were usually the fights I had to run away from like a leetle biatch.

Halsin has a stressful day 💗

I forgot that Psionic Backlash is like a thing that does damage and that if your entire worm filled party does it and the person you are casting is at like...say 19 health...they will die because that is not Passive Damage.

And then Jaheira will leave because you murdered her friend.

Oopsie.

(I lost Shart, Lae'Zel and Jaheira in this run) GENERAL STUFF

Always surprise the enemy if you can, it’s a massive advantage!

Get the eye from Volo. This run was not about looking pretty, it was about getting any advantage I could get. Let that man poke out your eyeball. And make sure it’s your Tav, you will mostly likely swap companions and it’s just better if it’s you. It's helpful in a lot of fights but especially Auntie Ethel

Become half illithid. I did this with my Tav, Gale and Minthara. Astarion was a little bitch about it so I didn’t give it to him but I wish I had made him do it.

She looks Not Great but she can fly (sorry Astarion but Z'hera only likes pussy)

Being able to fly is just SO helpful and cull the weak is OP! Also mmmmm worms :)

MY BUILD/PARTY

A Giant Woman (my tiefling) as a Paladin - Oath of Vengeance.

I broke my oath when I ascended Astarion but you can just get it back. Oathbreaker is still good (that’s what I was in my tactician run) but I wanted my channel divinity charges. I started with the Everburn Blade from the cambion Commander Zhalk on the Nautaloid (when you get Shart, give her the Command Spell and use “Drop” so you can just yoink it off him and save a fight). My final weapon was the Nyrulna which you can get in Act 3 at the Circus. To get this you must pickpocket the genie to take his ring and then play his game. He will accuse you of cheating and send you somewher. The prize at the end is this weapon. I love it. I just went invisible and walked through, I didn’t fight the creatures there.

Astarion - the classic gloomstalker/assasin. I had one level assasin and then did 6 levels ranger before going back to assassin. So he was 6 levels in each. With him ascended, he does INSANE damage. I never swap out that vamp, he’s too useful.

Shart/Minthara - I lost Shart in the Shadowfell - wouldn't let her murder Dame Aylin.

a simpler time. before I killed my beloved and my brain was full of worms.

I had to fight her (it was very sad). I changed her class to Life of Domain Cleric. I then made Minthara my cleric when Shart died (same build). She replaced my lover and my cleric <3

i love my new evil girlfriend

Gale - Evocation Wizard so I didn’t change him at all!

he's so hopeful. and Z'hera is very gay.

TIPS FOR POTIONS

If it’s throwable (like invisibility) group the gang together to throw one on the ground to get you all - saves using multiple.

Potion of Speed has an effect called lethargic that is active for one round after the potion ends. This means you miss a turn. HOWEVER! If you drink another one on the last active round of the potion, your Tav will become lethargic immediately and next round you’ll be fine :) I did this for the Ketheric fight.

It’s also helpful (because of lethargic) to not have all characters take the potion in the same round (if you give it to everyone). I never did, I usually gave them to Gale and my Tav.

I hoarded so many scrolls. I had so many dimension door scrolls at the end.

I did get the Necromancy of Thay and did all the things. And then I never used it :)

BIGGEST TIP ONCE YOU'VE UNLOCKING LEVEL 6 SPELL SLOT WITH CLERIC (ALSO AVAILABLE WITH DRUID)

I saw this on reddit! Pretty much what I did was get a hireling - Cleric - and have that Cleric cast Heroes' Feast on my party.

The affected entity is immune to Diseases, Poisons, and being Frightened, it makes all Wisdom Saving throws with Advantage, and its maximum Hit Points are increased by 12

Lasts until long rest!! I also then cast Freedom of Movement on everyone in the party. I then cast Warding Bond on someone - usually Gale because he's a squishy boy :) If I knew it was a BIG FIGHT! I got another Cleric to cast Warding Bond on another party member.

you can see Heroes' Feast (the condition is called Thoroughly Stuffed) and Freedom of Movement. These all last until long rest!

Pretty much any other companions were respeced as Cleric (though I made Jaheira a Wizard same as Gale so I could use her). I did this so that I could use Divine Intervention multiple times within the game!

I used Opulent Revival and nothing else

KEEP IN MIND.

anything can kill you in honour mode. even an elevator.

it crushed me. somehow.

thanks Larian

(if you want proper guides definitely go to Reddit!)

#missy the honourable #missy meows #bg3 #bg3 honour mode #this is very long and rambling #sorry!#but im no guy on reddit

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