#longsaddle
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Longsaddle
The hamlet of Longsaddle is little more than a row of buildings on either side of the Long Road, halfway along the lengthy journey from Triboar to Mirabar. A path leaves the road here and winds to the Ivy Mansion, the great house of the wizards of the Harpell family. Since the Harpells founded the town more than four centuries ago, they have brooked little nonsense and less mayhem. Their own behaviour sometimes borders on the bizarre and can be disturbing - they once turned two rival sects of Malarites into rabbits for disturbing Longsaddle with their squabbles, leaving them at the mercy of the predators they had honoured - but they are one of the most potent gatherings of mages anywhere in the North.
The Harpells are a jovial, if insular, lot. All wizards, they tend to marry wizards as well, and the elder women of the family (by blood or marriage) set the course for the house and utterly rule matters within the Ivy Mansion. The family takes on a number of apprentice wizards, using them for menial tasks and for basic defence of Longsaddle. Some apprentices are often the inadvertent test subjects for an experimental spell, but such is the danger of apprenticing to the Harpells. It is likely this spirit of experimentation that caused the Harpells to found their town so far away from other settlements. Young wizards with oddly sized or shaped limbs, strange hair colour, or shifting forms are fairly common sights in Longsaddle, not surprising to locals though they might give visitors pause.
Given the Harpells' reputation as powerful wizards, and the sheer number of them, there is no shortage of folk poking around Longsaddle and the nearby lands hoping to discover caches of magic, hidden like children's treasures. Of course, few, if any, such bundles exist, but the locals draw no shortage of entertainment from sending would-be thieves on grand chases for wands, rings, and other magic trinkets that any prudent person would realize simply don't exist. After all, if the average trader in Longsaddle knew where powerful magic was located, he would be more likely, down the years, to try to claim it.
The primary business of Longsaddle is ranching, and the lands surrounding the village are dominated by hundreds of ranches and farms of every sort and size, from tiny horse farms to great fields of cattle. During those days that livestock are brought in for trading, Longsaddle is a dusty, noise-filled place, with the sounds of the animals competing with the shouts of farmers hoping to sell their goods.
At all other times, it's a quiet, almost sleepy hamlet, except when the booming reverberation of a Harpell-crafted spell breaks the silence. The family is constantly researching magic both old and new, and twisting spells and rituals into interesting (to them) innovations. This proclivity has prompted them to surround Ivy Mansion with as many magical wards as the family can muster, in order to protect the populace from an errant explosion, terrifying illusion, or the odd, galloping horse of lightning speeding by.
Several businesses designed to attract travellers stand in Longsaddle, if for no other reason than travel along the well-named Long Road can be tiresome. The first is the Gilded Horseshoe, an old inn to the west of the road that serves fine food and drink, offers comfortable beds, and is close enough to the Ivy Mansion that no one would dare disturb it or its guests. The owners have access to some of the choicest cuts of meat in Longsaddle, and as a result, their roasts and stews are exquisite.
Across the road, the Ostever family serves as the local slaughterer and butcher for folk wishing to take meat, rather than live animals, away from Longsaddle. Rumour holds that the sausages have much improved down the years but buyers are advised to "mind the tusks" by locals, a reference to an old joke that none remember. Folk willing to wait can have the able hands of the Ostevers perform a slaughter, hanging, dressing, and packing for them, though this process is likely to take days longer than most travellers can spare.
There is entertainment to be had at the Gambling Golem, where cheaters in the card or dice games are tossed out into the street, and a local marbles game known as scattershields is popular. Dry goods, candles, lanterns, saddles, rope, and wagon wheels are available
from a number of other shops.
It can't be stressed enough that while the Harpells have little interest in the daily running of Longsaddle, it is undeniably their town. They rarely suffer insults, and never tolerate violence against themselves, their family, or the locals. A conflict involving the Harpetls is likely to end swiftly and bloodily, and (unless the offender is convincingly apologetic, unconscious, dead, or forgiven of the wrongdoing) will often draw additional Harpells to support their kin. Harpell supports Harpell in all public matters, and no one bothers to record the numbers and names of those that forgot that fact.
Aside from the Harpells, the dominant families of Longsaddle are ranchers: the Cadrasz, Emmert, Kromlor, Mammlar, Sharnshield, Suldivver, and Zelorrgosz families have ranched in or near Longsaddle for generations, and influence most of the daily life there. They set the market days, help resolve disputes among families, and broker purchases when a farmer or businessperson dies without an heir. They settle smaller matters and keep the peace as best they can, knowing full well that if the Harpells need to get involved in a dispute, there is always the possibility of an offender's being blasted into
nothingness.
These families are also the ones most likely to hire outsiders to deal with matters on the ranches, whether an ore raid or the appearance of lycanthropes in the area (though it's rumoured that the latter creatures may be the descendants of one of the Harpells). The major ranching interests often hire adventurers not only to further their own aims or provide for defence, but to secretly hinder or harm one another and gain an advantage in their ongoing competition. Adventurers that go too far on such a mission can be explained away as foolish outlanders, and if they offend a Harpell and get blasted in the middle of the Low Road, there will be no one left to ask about the matter. My best advice is to be mindful of the scent of magic in the air and act accordingly.
source: Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide pg. 48-49, map
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Hey! It's my birthday today and it's been really good but it's been kind of the first birthday I've ever properly celebrated with my chosen family and friends in a long time since a lot of trauma/ab*se, and I really hope it wouldn't be too much to ask (take as long as you need obvs) for some headcanons with a Tav that isn't going to celebrate on their birthday, but Astarion makes it special for them somehow and maybe they agree it's Tav's 'first' birthday 🥹����🥹👉👈
I love all your work and eagerly await your posts, they make my day 🥰🥰🥰
Hi! Hope you will like it! Now, Tiriel's birthday is also in autumn!
Birthday Gift
Summary: Tiriel has no idea when her real birthday is and she's never receieved birthday gifts. Astarion finds it outrageous.
Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)
Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship.
Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
TW: a mention of abuse
Tiriel looks around.
Autumn.
Leaves are turning red and yellow, the winds are cold and promise winter.
It’s beautiful, though the barbarian feels uneasy – the childhood memories. Winters are merciless in such wild places as the Sunset Mountains. Hunger, sickness, death… Sometimes her stepfather, a cruel chieftain, would order to leave certain people outside (too old, too weak) – to let them die and not waste scarce food.
He would often pull Tiriel outside when the autumn winds were particularly harsh and say: “Look at this, pixie girl, I can just order not to give you any food and you will die like a stray cat. But I am merciful – I told your mother I’d save your pathetic half-blood life!” With these words, he would let her go and Tiriel would run to hide somewhere dark and safe.
She was lucky there were no harsh winters during her childhood. She would be the first to be deprived of food and warmth.
Only half a human. The result of an affair between her mother and an unknown elf. She still wonders why she was spared in the first place. It would have been so easy to murder a newborn girl.
They didn’t.
They kept her.
Maybe it was a superstition that elven children would become evil spirits once they died, or fear that Tiriel’s elven relatives would return.
Those are questions without answers, Tiriel knows that.
Maybe there was a moment when her mother loved her. Maybe there was a moment when Tiriel’s stepfather really did forgive his wife.
Tiriel doesn’t have happy memories from her childhood. It’s all too dark and miserable.
And autumns like this remind her of it.
“Hello, darling,” Astarion grins, returning to the road from the woods. His shirt is stained and he licks his lips.
“What was it?” she asks.
“A boar. Didn’t expect I’d jump on it from the tree.”
Tiriel smiles as she wipes his face from blood and brushes his messy curls. Astarion doesn’t see himself in a mirror and, of all forms of intimacy, he especially cherishes being taken care of. Brushing his hair, cleaning his face, making sure he looks beautiful.
Two years. Two years of her own happy memories. Where she has a person to talk to, to hold, to love. Astarion is a troubled person, but Tiriel loves him at his worst and at his best.
Astarion rubs her ear, forcing her to giggle.
“Let’s go?” he suggests. “The weather is getting worse, I want to spend the next few days somewhere warm!”
“It’s five miles to Longsaddle if I’ve read the map properly.”
Astarion takes her hand, and Tiriel feels how warm it is thanks to the boar blood.
“Then we will meet the sunrise in a comfortable bed!” Astarion chuckles. “And in each other’s arms.”
“I doubt they have good beds there, so far from Luskan and other big cities.”
“We have low standards, you and I. As long as there is a blanket and a bed, we are fine, Besides I love using your breasts as my pillow.”
Tiriel bursts into laughter and receives a peck on the cheek.
Unfortunately, it can’t stop bad memories.
… Her siblings asked her to help them with something on a cliff. She followed them, only to be violently beaten by her older brothers. Tiriel even thought for a moment they were going to rape her, but, instead, they pushed her down to certain death.
Tiriel woke up in dirt and blood, with her arm broken in half, shivering and coughing.
And with a cave bear ready to murder her.
That’s when Tiriel felt rage for the first time.
It filled her veins with fire. Tiriel barely remembers what happened that night but she knows she killed that bear– and was left with facial scars. Then she came back, limping and bleeding. She thinks she fought someone, maybe one of her brothers or the chieftain and then she ran.
She ran into the mountains woods – no armor, no weapon, only rags and bare feet.
Then she collapsed on the ground, hurt and scared in the middle of the woods, forever lost.
Tiriel remembers that moment vividly.
A young girl who had barely hit puberty (because half-elves grow slower) woke up all alone and cried like a child. Then she got up and walked, dying of cold and hunger.
Two days later she was found by a group of adventurers who sort of adopted her as their party child. An old halfling washed Tiriel’s hair and healed her wounds. A water genasi cooked the girl food and offered the warmest blankets.
And the tiefling paladin asked Tiriel what her name was.
“My sweet, I thought it was me who tends to wander into dark thoughts,” Astarion squeezes. “Remembering your misfortunate youth again?”
“Yes. Just – similar. To what it was back then. The same autumn when I ran from home. The same autumn when I got my name.”
Tiriel, the little girl told the party. My name is Tiriel.
Astarion does the same thing he always does when he wants to support Tiriel.
He gives her a hug.
“Hush, Tiriel,” he murmurs. “You will never be alone again.”
Triel relaxes. That is her Astarion – a simple hug, a kiss, an embrace, and her nightmares perish.
He pulls away and Tiriel catches his most adorable smile – he doesn’t pretend, doesn’t show off, doesn’t perform. That’s real him.
“I want to kiss you,” he says.
She nods. They don’t have to ask permission to do things with each other. Kisses, hugs, grabbing hands, touching intimate parts – but they still do.
Tiriel asks if she can kiss Astarion.
Astarion states he wants to kiss her.
Simple as that.
Permission and declaration.
Astarion grazes her lips. He is in his predatory mood, when Tiriel just needs to accept whatever is going to be done to her. His strong hands grab her shoulders and tug at her.
Astarion finally breaks the kiss and stares at Tiriel for a few moments.
“I am not going anywhere,” Tiriel murmurs.
“I know, Tiriel. You are mine and I am yours,” Astarion presses his forehead to hers.
They go down the hill and find themselves on a road that connects scarce towns and settlements far from the Swords Coast. The road is more or less walkable but it soon will be washed out due to rains. Tiriel notices Astarion’s visible disgust.
“Honestly darling, we should have stayed in Baldur’s Gate and lived a life of comfort!” he chuckles.
“You would die of boredom – besides I thought you’d had enough of that place.”
“True, but there are many other comfortable places! Tiriel, you deserve to wear a nice gown made of the best fabrics and sleep in a huge master’s bed where I will ravish you till you beg me to stop.”
Tiriel turns around to see her partner better. “And then I would die of boredom. Astarion look at us – I am a nomad and you were enslaved for so long you deserve to see the world.”
“It doesn’t mean I can’t whine and complain!”
“You can whine and complain all day long, Astarion. Why even bother to be in a relationship, if you can’t do this?”
They bicker and laugh for the next hour until they see a town ahead. Despite it being close to midnight, the town doesn’t sleep and is rather festive.
“What is going on here?” Tiriel asks a passerby as they enter the town. “Some local celebration?”
“It’s our duke’s first son’s birthday,” the woman shrugs. “Not like we care about the spoilt brat but you can’t say ‘no’ to a celebration right?”
The woman disappears in the crowd and Tiriel points at the stalls.
“Astarion, look! So many sweets! Oh, and there are fireworks!”
Astarion looks distant, as if something plagued his mind.
“Love, what is it?” She asks and feels a wave of anxiety. What if it’s too much? Feasts like this used to be his hunting grounds, what if he has a painful flashback?
Two years against two centuries is almost nothing.
“Tirie,l” he finally asks. “When is yours?”
“What?”
“Birthday. I know this is a huge deal for humans and the ones who grew up with them.”
“I don’t know.”
Astarion looks at her with shock.
“You… what?”
“I don’t know when mine is, I was never told. Neither a date nor a month.”
“Oh,” Astarion didn’t expect this answer. “Well, at least you know the year, right?”
“I don’t.”
Astarion raises his index finger as if wanting to point at something, but then he shakes his head in disbelief.
“We have been together for two years and you are telling me now that you don’t… how old you are?!”
Tiriel ponders a bit.
“Well, I know it was 1472 DR when I ran away, I was told by the party who adopted me… and I had had my first blood only two months before that. But I am a half-elf and it took me longer to grow up… So I think I was… fifteen? Maybe, sixteen… Or fourteen? Definitely not sixteen… Because my older brother was sixteen… Damn, I don't really know. Don’t bother.”
“Darling, I can’t not bother with the fact that I don’t know how old you are!”
“You say it as if I was one of those little girls who look older than they are and get their one-night stands in trouble!”
“It’s not that, Tiriel! It’s just… I don’t know… wrong!”
“It probably is.”
“It is wrong.”
“I cannot do anything about that.”
The wave of sadness drags her to the bottom of her dark thoughts.
Beatings.
Insults.
Hatred.
Pain.
All at once, since she was born.
Suddenly, she is a little girl again – a little girl thrown outside in the autumn rain, in the wind, wearing only a nightshirt. Tiriel thinks she hears her stepfather's laughter from behind a thick wooden door as a seven-year-old half-elf who cries and begs him to let her in.
Tiriel stops. Tears prickle her eyes. Her face burns, and an adult half-elven woman who fought gods and demons starts ugly crying like a child.
She collapses on her knees not caring about the dirt, wailing and sniffing.
“Tiriel!” Astarion drops his sack and kneels beside her. “Did I do… Did I ask… Oh, hells.”
He puts his arms under her shoulders and presses her to himself, lulling and swaying side to side. He murmurs all the words of love and care he is capable of.
“Let’s take you somewhere warm,” he finally says, helping her to get up.
Despite the fest, they manage to find an inn with a free room, a cheap and simple one. Tiriel has to go inside first to invite Astarion, and then he takes everything in his hands again making sure the innkeeper brings warm blankets and prepares a bath.
“Love,” he says. “Look at me.”
Tiriel tries not to think about how bad she looks right now with her puffy face and snot but obliges.
“That's much better, now let’s take you to the bath”
An hour later, Tiriel submerges herself into the hot water and expects Astarion to join her, but instead he goes straight to the exit.
“Astarion!” she calls him out.
“I will be back soon, just relax while I am away, all right?”
Tiriel hates being alone. Too many dark thoughts, besides, now she feels guilty. Astarion went through hell and she dares to complain?!
Her past isn’t that bad in comparison with his. She has no right to pity herself.
Time passes slowly, and Tiriel feels restless. What if something happened? What if there was a vampire hunter? Or something else…
When she finally decides to get out of the bath, Tiriel hears familiar footsteps.
“Close your eyes, little love.”
Tiriel obeys and then feels something soft and plush in her arms.
“Open” Astarion places his chin on her shoulder.
A plushie-owlbear.
Soft and cute, it’s a toy appropriate for a little girl to cuddle with.
A toy she never had.
“Well,” Astarion explains. “Since you don’t know when your birthday is, it can be… today. 17 of Uktar. Happy birthday, love,” he kisses her cheek. “And I suppose we should decide how old you are.”
“Thirty-eight,” Tiriel says, doing mental math. “Let it be thirty-eight”
“Happy thirty-eight birthday, my lovely, darling girl.”
Tiriel feels like crying again. It’s just a toy, a plushie, a thing for a baby. But she was never treated as a child, she was never given toys or dolls. And this gift… is the best she could have received.
“Do you like it?” he asks carefully.
“Yes… I do love it! Thank you! Did you steal it?”
“I won it from the toymaker. Played cards with her.”
Astarion sits on the edge of the bathtub and Tiriel wraps her hands around his waist tugging him into water. He lets out a laugh.
“Darling, you know how long it will take to fully dry?”
“Eternity! And we will spend this eternity in the inn warm and safe,” Tiriel says. “Astarion, please! I don’t want to go back on the road now, so many bad memories!”
He sits in front of her fully in the water. “Ok my sweet, what else do you want for your birthday? Maybe I could return the favor and let you ride me in some place from your traumatic memories? I’ve seen a rather terrible-looking dirt of mud.”
Tiriel thinks for a while and then says. “I don't mind riding you, but maybe in the bedroom?”
“Whatever you say, darling!”
**
It’s sunlight outside, and Astarion feels the tugging feeling in his undead chest. He misses sunlight, that's true.
Tiriel is asleep in his arms. They actually didn’t make it to the bedroom and had the first round in the bathtub, and now Astarion needs to repair his shirt and find missing buttons from a doublet.
It causes him anxiety, but he shrugs it away.
He can lose all the buttons and rip all his clothes, and the only reaction he will receive will be Tiriel’s jokes.
Tiriel hugs him from behind, placing her cheek on his mutilated back. The plushie is pressed between their bodies as his warrior-love has decided to sleep with it.
He actually didn’t expect her to like the toy. Initially, he was panicking and looking for something appropriate for Tiriel. A ring? A bracelet? Maybe a weapon? Maybe just something sweet?
Everything he was putting his eyes on was off. Jewelry Tiriel would never wear, a weapon she wouldn’t fight with.
And then he saw the toys. An owlbear plushie for a woman who is always treated like a brave hero. Who didn’t have a proper childhood?
The first birthday gift for someone who has never had a birthday.
And Tiriel loved it so much she pressed it to her chest the moment they stopped ‘celebrating’. She wanted to give it a proper name, and they spent at least a few minutes discussing their ideas before they settled on Big Eye.
“Tiriel,” Astarion mutters knowing she is asleep and won’t wake up. “I love you. You will never be alone, I promise. I will be with you unless you grow tired of me, and I am sure you won’t. Thank you for … finding me. Saving. Helping.”
Suddenly he feels her wet lips on his scars.
“I will never grow tired of you,” Tiriel promises.
--
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#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#astarion romance#bg3#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#named tav#baldur's gate tav#baldur's gate iii#astarion established relationship#barbarian tav#half elf tav#hurt/comfort#tiriel of the sunset mountains#tiriel the barbarian#astarion x tiriel#oc tav: tiriel#astarion ancunin#astarion baldurs gate#astarion baldurs gate 3#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#astarion fic#astarion fluff#astarion fanfiction#astarion imagine#baldurs gate 3 astarion#astarion fics
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they’re lost, somewhere between longsaddle and luskan. luckily one of them makes a great space heater.
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I really appreciate how full of so many amazing and funny characters (main cast aside) the Legend of Drizzt novels are. You've got a deep gnome with a pickaxe and a hammer as hands called Belwar Dissengulp. An absolutely unhinged family of wizards from Longsaddle, one of them created a crossbreed between a horse and a frog and called it Puddlejumper. Harkle Harpell. An utterly wild fighter group of dwarves called the Gutbuster Brigade, led by Phibbledorf Pwent. Artemis Entreri. JARLAXLE. Kimmuriel Oblodra. I could go on all day.
#legend of drizzt#forgotten realms#the wizard duel between Harkle and Robillard lives rent free in my head i think about it so often#my guy pulled a whole bucket out of a pocket it was so funny best moment in The Silent Blade#dont get me started on the dynamic between the main cast because I might start screaming#man I love these books so much I'm so glad I started reading them#dungeons and dragons#dnd#ramblings
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Hi! For the Tav asks 9, 18 and 26?
First of all, thanks for asking! 🥹🥹🥹🥹
About Farelya, I’ve to do a preliminary remark: she’s my main character in the MMORPG Neverwinter as well since 2013, that’s why some details refers to it too – just to give an example, she’s a Moon elf, instead of a Sun one.
But let’s begin!
9: Is your Tav from Baldur's Gate? Why are they travelling there?
Nope, she’s not. Rey comes from the Moonwood, near Silverymoon. But she often travels to Neverwinter, Longsaddle and on the coast as well – and being an adventurer, she likes to take Lords’ quests – that’s why she was on her way to Baldur’s Gate. Not for the money itself (she’s fine with the bare necessities), but for the joy of the journey – and the chance, maybe, to learn something new.
Luck wasn’t on her side this time.
18: What would your Tav be doing if they weren't kidnapped on the Nautiloid?
Probably travelling, or spending some time studying in Silverymoon. She loves the libraries of the Lady’s College, and those in the School of Thaumaturgy as well.
26: What animal best represents your Tav?
Probably a panda? Always hungry, a bit sleepy, and with the bad habit of falling into trouble--- *headshot*
Jokes aside, I’d say a raven. She may not have the same colors, but the personality is quite on point (even being SO PICKY in finding a partner, apparently)
Thank you so much again! 🌻🌻
Tav Ask Meme
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History in Menzoberranzan
3917 DR
Menzoberranzan was founded by a priestess of Lolth named Menzoberra the Kinless
1305 DR in politics
The drow wizards of House Mylyl, having been experimenting with creating chitines since 1233 DR,[3] finally abandon their efforts. The chitines, now free, form the realm of Yathchol beneath the Far Forest.
1313 DR
After proving his above-average agility and hand–eye coordination to Matron Malice, Drizzt Do'Urden begins training his martial skills with Zaknafein.
1318 DR
Having learned much from Zaknafein of the martial arts, Drizzt Do'Urden enters Melee-Magthere, the warrior school in Menzoberranzan.
1320 DR
Following the Thunder Blessing, the growing gold dwarf population is forced to spread out across the southern Underdark, seeking new caverns to settle and disturbing the long-held status quo of the subterranean races.
1322 DR
• Liriel Baenre is born to Sosdrielle Vandree in Menzoberranzan.
1325 DR
• Beers and wines made in this year become famous.
1327 DR
• Having trained for ten years at Menzoberranzan's Melee-Magthere, Drizzt Do'Urden becomes first graduate of his class.
1328 DR
After a raid on Menzoberranzan from the Illithid of Phanlinksal, House Baenre retaliates. In exchange for not destroying the settlement, El-Viddenvelp agrees to serve Yvonnel Baenre as an advisor.
1328 DR in people
• Drizzt Do'Urden flees Menzoberranzan and goes to live in the wilds of Nasadra. House Hrost Ulu'ar destroyed by House Xorlarrin
self-imposed exile
1339 DR
House Baenre destroys House Do'Urden of Menzoberranzan by the mandate of Lolth.
1358 DR
• House Oblodra (with its psionic powers unaffected by the Time of Troubles) plots to seize power over the drow city of Menzoberranzan. However, as the Troubles end, they are defeated and destroyed by House Baenre.
Led by House Baenre, an army of drow, goblins, and kobolds of Menzoberranzan attack Mithril Hall. The dwarves are joined by local barbarian tribes, svirfneblin, the forces of Nesmé and Silverymoon, as well as Lady Alustriel Silverhand and the Harpells of Longsaddle. Together, they defeat the drow and force them back underground.
in Menzoberranzan, where Matron Malice and the rest of the Do'Urden family are still waging war with House Hun'ett. With the help of renegade Jarlaxle and his group Bregan D'aerthe, the Do'Urden family win the fight moving them to Eighth position in the Menzo hierarchy.
Matron Malice goes to council with Matron Baenre, where it is revealed to her that Matron SiNafay Hun'ett is to join the Do'Urden family under the alias of Shi'nayne - the eldest daughter who has returned from her travels of distant drow city Ched Nasad. After several ten-days pass, Dinin and Briza with a small group of soldiers are searching for Drizzt in the tunnels of the Underdark, so that they can capture and kill him, and regain the favour of the Spider Queen, Lolth.
The family of House Do'Urden gather in the anteroom, where Rizzen is being abused by Matron Malice. They discuss whether or not any of them should go after Drizzt again, Briza and Dinin not being keen at all since their last encounter. Malice hatches an idea, and so a ceremony takes place to bring forth a yochlol (maiden) of Lolth. To please Lolth, Malice has decided to sacrifice Rizzen so that they may regain enough favour to carry out her plans. As the yochlol is called, Malice goes to strike Rizzen but instead murders SiNafay, which gives her enough respect from Lolth to perform Zin-carla, a spell with re-animates the corpse of a single dead person but their mind is controlled mentally through the Matron of the House, a gift only given to complete a specific task. And so to hunt Drizzt, Malice re-animates Zaknafein knowing that he alone can destroy Drizzt.
Source
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WISHLIST: ANOTHER herbert sherbert weird kenjammin original questline based off the descent to avernus module!
TITLE: GASP! POLITICAL INTRIGUE! SPIES! DANGER! THE COUNCIL OF LORDS! AMN! OCS AND NPCS WE WRITE TOGETHER! THE ELECTION OF NOT ONE, BUT THREE DIFFERENT DUKES DURING THE TRIAL OF VANTHAMPUR. ESCANDALO….
REAL TITLE: a sprawling political campaign we write together based off various sources of dnd media.
TIMELINE: post-act 3 (duke ravengard verse.)
NOTE: this is WYLL-SPECIFIC, i also have ideas for vampire, githyanki, shar, mystea stuff….. but idk if yall wanna see that lol. if you want, you can steal these ideas for your own rps! would be fun, show me your rps!
RELEVANT DND INFORMATION:
amn is a city like baldur’s gate, but actually a nice place to live. theyre a lot newer, but they’re extremely powerful, and they HATE bg for stealing their business, they DON’T want them in the council of lords, n there are potential conspiracy plots and assaination plots alluded to potentially.they have a history of war with bg as well. amn is NOT in the council of lords, but they are an entire state apparatus
council of lords members:
Amphail: Lord Dauner Ilzimmer
Baldur's Gate: Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate and Marshal of the Flaming Fists Ulder Ravengard (now grand duke wyll ravengard.)
Daggerford: Duchess Morwen Daggerford
Longsaddle: Dowell Harpell
Mithral Hall: Queen Dagnabbet Waybeard
Mirabar: Marchion Selin Ramur
Neverwinter: Lord Protector Dagult Neverember
Silverymoon: High Mage Taern Hornblade
Waterdeep: Open Lord Laeral Silverhand (she was also the leader of the Alliance)[4]
Yartar: Waterbaron Nestra Ruthiol
baldur’s gate is ruled by the council of four. this was:
vanthampur: captured or killed after betraying elturel and ulder, her seat will be up for election either way
polmyer: largely lazy conflict averse old man
stelmane: killed, her seat will be up for election
ulder: wants to step down for his son, was deposed by gortash, is still the marshal of the flaming fists, but the seat may be open for election as wyll takes on the role during a period of martial law
there are hundreds of refugees out of the city gate
there is already not enough room for lesser nobles to have manors and estates in the upper city, some of the nobles are actually quite poor due to failing businesses
space and resources are not being properly allocated, there is a whole nature reserve for dusthawks, but this space could be used for housing or hunting
in general, nobles CANNOT be seen helping people, it is a sign of weakness, any support for the common people has to be veiled, including bids for electoral candidates. if a noble helps someone publically, they usually end up dead unless theyre really really smart or powerful
even if you are elected, there is so much red tape, it is honestly better to simply join a crew and protect ur community that way
elections include the votes of the common people
the watch only helps the nobility, and humilates and is violent towards commonpeople for the most slight of infractions
the flaming fist SUCKS except for ulder. so whats ulders fucking deal. he is the comissioner gordon of baldur’s gate, i guess
any incoming political ambassadors are interrogated thoroughly to check for spies, it sometimes takes hours at a time, they are Not Trusted
MY PREMISES:
vanthampur is on public trial, two seats are up for election, while wyll is grand duke under martial law
the lord alliance approves of wyll—to an extent, certainly more than gortash, to help him and solidify their allegiance, the lord alliance is coming to baldur’s gate.
in addition, an emissary from amn, who is NOT a spy, and their guard (who ARE spies and such that are there to sow discord and rig the election etc) have come
the cult/conspiracy of ansur has been formed, people who believe in the good of balduran and ansur and believe that the heroes that saved bg actually KILLED ansur have developed into a faction of detractors
tiamut cultists are fighting the remaining dead three cultists to get back tiamut’s hoard of coin, leaving people dead in the fallout
the guild is growing in power, scraping against local crews
the nobles mostly still believe in gortash or at least his vision for the future. some commoners do too. gortash is still a political prisoner, he longs to go back to working on the steel watch.
ulder is back in charge of the flaming fist, however, the people hate them now more than ever. ulder is also falling prey to BAPHOMET’s influence, and will need constant mental healing from the strain.
the refugees need homes and are constantly being preyed on, they do NOT have votes in the election, but they still deserve to be helped
OUR JOB:
make npcs, deal with all this shit!! will be FUN!
this will be A LONG-TERM TWO-PERSON COLLOBORATION, please like this post if you’re interested in doing something like this!
we do not have to ship. at all. platonic is fine. in fact, platonic is great, shipping is also great, but i want to do PLOTTY stuff! ty!
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Chapter 3: The Lord is Dead
Part 3
———
They eventually turn down an alley, and then a quick left, then right between buildings; a few more twists and turns before finding the stairs Lilli was searching for.
Down the stairs, into another passage lined with two wooden pillars on each side. Lilli walks towards the end wall and disappears through it. Zythraul follows. The two adventurers find themselves in a small tavern; the entrance to the hideout of the vigilantes of Erbin’s Ire. It’s a little shabby; like a building built to be hidden under another building. And yet, it still gives off a warm and welcoming aura. A rickety wooden sign is stuck above the entrance that says “The Sword and Scoundrel” pinned in place with a dagger.
A few patrons move to intercept them before the barkeep - an elf man - intercedes and waves them down.
“Lilli! Zythraul! It’s about time you two showed your faces back here!” The patrons sit back down. The barkeep pulls three glasses and pours drinks; A large flagon of mead for Zythraul and two shots of straight whiskey for Lilli.
“Olon. Greetings.” Zythraul nods and drops a couple of silver on the bar as they take their drinks.
“Olon! Oh you scoundrel. Thank you.” Lilli winks and hops up on a barstool. “What’d we miss?”
“Depends. How long you been in town? Neverember was publicly disintegrated last night.”
“We saw. We were there.” Zythraul motions at the scars on their face. Olon looks surprised.
“Oh shit Zythraul! Apparently it was hellish at the festival.” Zythraul and Lilli both nod, confirming.
“Galodir has started getting people to look into it, despite dwindling numbers of useful bodies he has to investigate.” Lilli groans.
“Whyy do we have any care about the rich Neverwinter bastards murdering each other? One falls and another rises, it’s none of our business.” Zythraul says nothing but raises an eyebrow over their jug of mead. Olon nods.
“That is true, but plenty of regular people died last night. Even if it is none of our business, it’s worth getting the intel on. Speaking of, I’ll let him know you are here. He will want to see you two about that last job you finished.”
Olon leans over behind the bar and knocks on a panel in the wall.
“Finish your beverages. He won’t be long.”
It wasn’t. From a door at the other end of the bar appears Galodir. He says nothing, but makes eye contact with Zythraul and Humility and waits. They finish their drinks and head towards Galodir, leader of Erbin’s Ire.
Galodir continues to not speak as they walk through the door into a hallway, before a few short steps takes them to another room, with a desk and walls covered in papers; notes of various events and rumours regarding Neverwinter and the surrounds. Behind them, the door closes shut by a large, obsidian coloured big cat. The drow man pauses for a moment before turning, head down, looking concerned. Then, he looks up and smiles wide.
“It’s great to see you two.” and he opens his arms. Humility skips up to hug Galodir.
“And you.” Zythraul reaches out a hand to shake. Galodir removes himself from Lilli’s embrace and firmly shakes Zythraul’s hand.
“I take it your travel was uneventful? You both seem well rested.”
“It was. Longsaddle was grateful for the supplies. The people there don’t look well after that plague swept through their crops. “
“Thank you. I’ll let Khari know. I think she has some stuff for you that we liberated previously.”
“Sweet! What’s new that you have for us? We could use the coin.”
“Well, we need people to go investigate the Lord Neverember’s deat….”
“Oh, no no no. Don’t you dare. We aren’t getting involved in that.” Galodir chuckles at Lilli’s protests.
“I figured as much. Well, in that case… I’ve been getting information and rumours about a few different problems I think are right up your alley.” Galodir points at the wall of notes. He paused, thoughtful for a moment.
“I should let you two know that they are going to be shutting down the city at sundown tonight, hoping to catch whoever had a hand in Neverember’s death within the walls. It’s going to be a lot harder to leave if you stay until tomorrow, just in case that changes your decisions.”
Zythraul and Lilli look at each other.
“Maybe we should get out of town for a bit, let this all simmer down.”
“I do think that’s a good idea, except all these people appearing feebleminded on the streets is concerning. It’s not going to get any better if more people are trapped within the city’s walls.” mentions Galodir.
“Truthfully, I’m most concerned about them.”
“You can just ask us to go check that out, Gal, we are at your command.” Humility mock bows and Galodir pulls a face at the nickname.
“I would appreciate it if you could. I might be able to have Khari rustle up something more for you if you do. If you do decide you want to leave the city at a later date, I can also assist with that. It just might be more difficult than walking out the front gate.” Galodir raises his palms.
“Think on it. Go and see Khari. She has been wondering how you got on. Come back to me once you have and I will have all the information you need to investigate these people collated and ready for you.”
Outside Galodir’s office and down a hallway, followed by some stairs, there is the sound of banging and crashing. The stairs give way to a large storeroom and Khari the gnome quartermaster can be seen tutting over a fallen stack of boxes.
“Ugh! Who put these hereeooooooh my gods Lilli! Zythraul!” Khari comes bounding up to them, leaping onto a box next to the door to be eye level with the two adventurers. She claps Zythraul on the shoulder and throw her arms around Humility.
“I was wondering about you two! Thought you might ‘ave died on the road to Longsaddle! Your timing is excellent. I was just digging around in these boxes and I think the one that we put aside for you two is in this pile lying on the ground!”
Khari goes back to the jumble of boxes and pushes some around before dragging one out.
“Here! Payment for your work and your share of our repurposed belongings of the rich of Neverwinter!” Khari kicks the box lid off. There is an assortment of jewellery, a mirror, and a statue, as well as a mask and a silk handkerchief. Lilli sorts through them, taking the handkerchief for herself and handing Zythraul the mask. Digging further into the box reveals a hood, a pair of leg wraps and a pair of gloves. The gloves look to disappear when Lilli puts them on. Lilli hands Zythraul the leg wraps; they have small dragon wings embroidered on them. Lilli also grabs the hood and puts it on, doing a little twirl.
“How do I look?” Zythraul looks up to see Lilli striking a pose with her new gloves, scarf and hood.
“Stunning.” They state. As Zythraul stands, their steps feel a bit lighter. Lilli glances at her new hood, puts it back on, looks at Zythraul, and winks. As she does, she suddenly looks like a smaller Zythraul.
“Sweeeeet! This is great!” She winks again and becomes Lilli once more.
“Thanks Khari, these are fabulous!” Khari laughs at Lilli’s antics and wishes them farewell as they return to Galodir.
He hands Lilli a handful of notes, barely legible scribbles of known information.
People are being found left feebleminded in the street, no memory.
All around lower Neverwinter - not the rich people suburbs.
None of them have been able to be returned to their normal state.
There might still be people missing.
There is also a map of Neverwinter with various marked locations - a record of people found so far.
Zythraul and Lilli thank Galodir and head out, waving to Olon on the way out of The Sword and Scoundrel to begin investigating.
#I’m sure that whole disintegration thing will work itself out#not our problem#dnd#writeblr#dnd actual play#dnd writing#obsidiinium#writing#solo ttrpg#dungeons and dragons#chapter 3 the lord is dead
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The Lords' Alliance
The Lords' Alliance is a confederation among the rulers of various northern settlements. The number of members on the Council of Lords, the group's governing body, shifts depending on the changing status of member cities and political tensions in the region. Currently, the Lords' Alliance counts these individuals as council members:
Laeral Silverhand, the Open Lord of Waterdeep
Dagult Neverember, Lord Protector of Neverwinter
Taern Hornblade, High Mage of Silverymoon
Ulder Ravengard, Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate and Marshal of the Flaming Fist
Morwen Daggerford, Duchess of Daggerford
Selin Ramur, Marchion of Mirabar
Dowell Harpell of Longsaddle
Dagnabbet Waybeard, Queen of Mithra! Hall
Lord Dauner Ilzimmer of Amphail
Nestra Ruthiol, Waterbaron ofYartar
The Lords' Alliance includes the strongest mercantile powers of the North. In addition to providing military support and a forum for the peaceful airing of differences, the Alliance has always acted under the principle that communities with common cause that engage in trade are less likely to go to war with one another. By maintaining strong trade ties within the alliance as well as outside it, the Lords' Alliance helps to keep the peace.
source: Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide pg. 7-8
#Forgotten Realms#dnd#dnd lore#dungeons and dragons#d&d#dungeons & dragons#the lords alliance#ulder ravengard#queue
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Doctor’s Notes, Book 6 part 4
| Stone’s throw away |
(continuation of last entry)
Summary,
Things of note since last entry:
reagents, following the trail
freeing the orcs, escort and return later
camping outside town, rough morning.
quick trip into town, back to the circle
another trail. but nothing else.
back to Mirrorbar, a wagon on the road
| 1 / 4 |
the others went to investigate the trail of blood behind to alter. To try and figure out what become of the missing members of orc tribe.
Me and Omrick stayed behind with two of the orcs. To keep an eye on things. Though, one of the main reasons I personally remained behind, is to study the psychology of the fallen Stone giants. And investigate, or perhaps even salvage their connection to the primal elements.
After carving my way through the first body, I got a pretty basic understanding of their psychology. Not too different from other giants, or humanoids even.
Collected some pieces of their nails, and nail roots seeing as those those are always potent alchemical components. As well as some bits of petrified organic matter from deeper within the bodies. Which… ill spare the gory details of.
--
Managed to dissect two of the Stonegiant bodies, till the others returned. With the help of our draconian guide, they managed to follow the trail as it led towards a cave entrance, at the foot of a nearby mountain. Or at least that’s what appears to be the case.. For the cave entrance is blocked by a boulder much larger than usual. Larger than even the stone giants apparently. They tried moving it by themselves, but lacked the strength to move the sheer of weight and stone of that thing. And they were considering of perhaps waiting until tomorrow, till we perhaps had the spells and magic to move it. And deal with the remaining meditating giants in the meantime.
I still had enough supplies left, to make some potions or elixers that might help move the boulder. Like a giants size / shrink. Or a greater potion of bull’s strength. But if we face the remaining giants now, that might not be the case.
We discussed for a bit. until eventually the leader from the band of orcs spoke up. Requesting that to they would prefer trying to safe what remained of the tribesman now, if possible. Which was understandable, and pretty much finalized the decision.
Must of us went back to the cave this time, to try and move the boulder out of the way. With only two remaining behind, in case one of the meditation giant statues woke up.
They weren’t joking when they said the boulder was… huge. It was difficult to ascertain whether shrinking it would even be enough. Let alone a be temporary solution. So instead, Aldrin volunteered to drink my elixir of giant’s size and try to move it. he… was already tall before he drank the potion. But after he imbibed it and doubled in size…. I’m pretty sure he was about as tall, if not taller, than some of the stone giants we’d seen. Or atleast hill some of the hill gaints.
By himself, he was able to do most of the work. And pushed the builder aside in mere moments. Reaveling the blood trail on the other side, that led further into the mountain. The cave fortunately wasn’t that deep though however. And to my relief, we found the remaining members of their tribe. Alive… but not well.
Not… all of them had survived. And those that did. The…
The limbs that I had seen the giants eating, I now know where they came from. A lot of them had been… “Amputated” doesn’t really seem like the right word. Dismembered….
A lot of them had lost a lot of blood. And were in dire need of medical attention. With the help of Lym and the others, we quickly put the medical supplies Aldirn had requested to use. And tried at least to treat them the best we could.
| 2 / 4 |
We helped them get back to the giant camp and reconvene with the others. Considering the… state that they were in, we quickly opted to help escort them to Longsaddle instead. And deal with the giants later. Tomorrow. They should still be slumbering until then, and the chance of them waking up… it’s unlikely, im pretty sure. Eitherway Aldrin is right, the orcs or our priority and need our help first.
I wasn’t necessarily opposed to dealing with the giants now. But we we were already pretty exhausted. and Aldrin was right in that we should focus on the wellbeing of the orcs first and foremost. They weren’t… they were a bit hesitant about accepting further help. Trying to insist that “they would be fine”. As t heir pride and mostly their gratitude for everything we’d done for them already, made it so they didn’t want to ask anything else from us. But Aldrin wasn’t really up for negotiation on the matter. So after a bit of back on forth, they conceded on joining us to Longsaddle. But they would camp outside town, since they didn’t really feel comfortable entering settlement.
We gathered everyone up, and made out way back to long saddle without any reall issue. Slowly and carefully though. Considering the state that some of the orcs are in. but we eventually arrived outside town, late into the night. (or early in the morning?) and quickly set up camp.
--
Dreams weren’t pleasant. But the night was relatively uneventful (besides the usual). Some of us helped with holding watch, just in case. Aldrin in particular felt obliged to keep watch, with some of the orcs in. And I kind of wonder how much sleep he really got. Everybody was quite exhausted when we finally made it back to Longsaddle last night. And we very much needed the rest. But I don’t know if anyone besides Omrick, actually got a decent amount of sleep though.
Lym in particular doesn’t seem like she’s slept well.
I wanted to try out my new cooking tools. And helped in making breakfast for some of us and the orcs of the tribe. But she didn’t seem to be hungry. I tried inquiring if something was wrong, but she didn’t really seem in the mood to talk. It looked like she had about as decent of a night’s rest I usually have, after a particularly bad night of nightmares. Which… quickly connected the dots for me.
She… As far as I could tell. Things weren’t urgent yet. But it probably be best to make our way out of here as soon as possible. Upon realizing Omrick tried to press her further. -- Of what her dreams where about and what, or how soon we should leave.
But Aldrin quickly picked up on the fact that, she wasn’t in the mood to go into detail about the nightmares she just had. And talk about it all. And probably just wanted some space. So instead, I tried to steer the conversation of where we should head next. -- To quickly deal with the remaining Stone giants, and be our way. Probably to Mirrorbar, to meet up with Angelo and Mr. Remur. As well as the Airship. So I grabbed my stuff, and mentioned id be ready to set out, as soon as I finished up a quick errant in town. Quickly had to buy some supplies. but wouldn’t be long.
Omrick decided to come along. So I had him help me carry some of the stuff. I… have something in mind, that will (hopefully) very much help with things, in the near future. I just need to time and the resources to make it.
Finding a lantern wasn’t too difficult, fortunately. But had a hard time judging how much lantern oil I needed. So I simply purchased an abundance of it. I really need to make, or buy and Alchemy jug at somepoint / sometime soon. Would definitely help with a lot of things as well.
| 3 / 4 |
Ready to head out. We said our goodbyes to the orcs, who… to my surprise, actually shared with us their tribe name. And in interesting twist of fate, or irony -- Their tribe is appearently called: The Horned Lord, If im not mistaken. Perhaps meeting them…. or them meeting us, was fate.
I wonder… if the Weave nudged them our away. made it so our passed crossed. Or… were the ones to best help them.
*
I forgot to mention. Before we headed out I… was a bit concerned about the future of some of their tribesman.
Those who had lost their legs, or arms, would… have a very difficult time ahead of them. And very much just wanted to help them out somehow.
But I didn’t have the time and resources to make some prosthetics, for each and everyone one of them. So I racked my brain, trying to think of ways or places that might be able to help them.
Clockwork wonders in Waterdeep, came to mind. As well as the Peg and Hook in Lusken. And Secomber. But I think Gond, might be the best option for them really.
A deity dedicated to craft and invention. I have heard that his church has made and helped people with prosthetics before, without asking anything in return. And all things considered. It kind of seemed like the best option for them.
They seemed grateful, though a little hesitant about my suggestion. But I do hope they consider it. I mentioned the other two places as well. Just in case.
And wished them a safe journey on the road ahead.
**
not sure what became of the halflings. Omrick looked for them around town for a bit ( I think) but he didn’t spot or couldn’t find any of them. perhaps they might already have left?
Which… is a bit of a shame, since the orcs asked us to apologize to them on their behalf.
…
The stone giants are gone… all of them.
All the meditating statues are gone. And all the corpses have been taking as well. ( With the exception of two, that I had dissected.)
Fuck.
We tried to follow their trail for a while. To hopefully catch up with them. But considering their pace and speed. it will be impossible to catch up to them.
And… there were no drag marks either. Only footsteps. Which probably means, I fear, that they now greatly outnumber us.
Having even more undead giants, than they did before.
Upon realizing the futility in our pursuit, we eventually gave up.
And instead tried to decide on what to do next.
Aldrin is worried about the villages and towns, that lay in their path. But the only one we can think of, is Yartar. Which to be honest, I coudnt care less for.
I mean, Aldrin is right that the innocent people of Yartar don’t desserve to be killed and attacked by stone giants. But the entire city feels… corrupt. And It’s not like he’s ever been there himself, so he doesn’t really understand, or fully grasp our “coloured history” with that damned city. We tried filling him in on some of the bullshit that happened to us Yartar. -- Which… further highlighted how much we’ve forgotten to inform the LA on… everything that’s happened after Svalberg, and the frost giants. We… are gonna have to have another meeting or converstation with Lady Silverhand at somepoint I think. Which… I doubt is gonna be pleasant.
Unless he can slowly trickle some of the information we’ve forgotten to relay, using his sending stones.
*
for personal clarification as well. Yartar, is not part of the Lords alliance apparently. despite having a teleportation circle. But is instead, still under application to become part of it. Or has been for the past few decades. They simply weren’t given priority, ( thank the gods,) since others towns needed the aid of the Lords Alliance more. And Yartar was already pretty self sufficient
--
I fear we may have to goo back to that cursed place at somepoint though. Which im not looking forward to.
Except in the sense perhaps, of bringing justice, and taking out my frustrations, on… everything that is wrong with that city. Lym Send a warning, to a certain receptionist, to warn them of the possible looming giant threat. It didn’t go as bad as she expected. But she may have to rope her brother into that date that was promised at somepoint.
| 4 / 4 |
I was lowkey wondering if Lady Silverhand could perhaps send one of her assassins that she had offhandedly mentioned as a… subtle warning, should we stray from the good path. And it it to Yartar, to deal with some of the issues. Similarly to perhaps the king of Gauntlgrym, which was a thought I had been entertaining. -- When it occurred to me that perhaps Aldrin might know more about whether there actually is something like that. As a trusted agent of hers. So I simply asked him. out of curiosity. Cause the idea… had been bothering me a bit. And the slightly morbidity of the question, didn’t outweigh the curiosity to know.
His answer was surprising though. He said that as far as he knows, the LA didn’t actually have any assassins. So perhaps it was just more of a threat in jest? But he did make a good point, in that… anybody could kind of be made an assassin. Like a commoner, just as much as a knight. Or me, or him. It would just take time, or resources. It was a bit less reassuring knowing that he technically was right. But atleast I wont have to worry about Lady Silverhand actually sending one of her highly trained covert ops, that she jokingly (?) hinted towards, our way
…
We had an encounter with an odd troupe of people. Travelling by cart or wagon, as we made our way to Mirrorbar. From our horses, we could slowly see them riding our way, on the other side of the road. -- Until we finally met. Yet as soon as Aldrin called out in greeting, their wheel suddenly popped of. Which, was an odd coincidence.
A little suspicious, most of us simply remained on our horses. Wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt, but being cautious nevertheless. They asked us if we perhaps could retrieve their wheel for them, which Omrick agreed to. Fortunately for them, it didn’t seem like the axel of their cart had broken of, so it just needed to be placed back on. And after grabbing the wheel, the 5 people from the cart simply hopped out and asked Omrick to help lift the wagon with them, so that they could place the wheel back on. Which… they probably could have done by themselves, but…
But as soon as Omrick helped them out with lifting the cart up. All of them, suddenly pulled out their weapons and began stabbing him in the back… or they tried to at least. He managed to parry a good amount of their blows, thanks to his armour as well. But these clearly weren’t just some regular common folk, just travelling south. They’d seemed polite. And we warned them of the giants on the road ahead, towards Longsaddle. But it seemed they had different things besides travel on their mind. And the presumable bandits, were vying for our lives or belongings instead.
it quickly became clear that they weren’t just regular bandits, or thugs either. But actually trained and capable fighters, and casters. And it wasn’t so much that their skills with a blade were too much of a threat, as their resilience, and dangerous magic they wielded. We managed to bring one of them down rather quickly. A dwarven figure, in plate. Who I managed to knock out with a Heat metal spell. Causing him pass out due to a heatstroke, instead of cooking him alive. But… we were torched for the most part instead.
Incinerated not just once. but at least 3 or 4 times, as large blasts of arcane fire were detonated at our feat. Lethal enough to kill most common folk. I… took the brunt of fiery impacts, as the others managed to dodge out of the way for most of them. And Lym’s infernal heritage thankfully shielding from the worst of the flames. But after that, things got worse
The entire world suddenly began shift; as shadows darkened, and the temperate of our surrounding began to drop. Something else …
had chosen to cross our paths as well. As it was no longer just them now who were attacking us.
There in clear day light, within the middle of the fray. She suddenly emerged from seemingly nowhere. As it felt like the world had gone dark, despite sun still shining above us. I… I had to get away.
We had to leave, And Now. I had to run, and get as far away from her as possible. If I didn’t…
|
| End of current entry |
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Wendell's backstory:
Wendell was adopted as a toddler by a family of halflings named Erling and Berthe Tinselfoot. They already had a young daughter named Winnie, but brought Wendell in, named him, and raised him on a relatively isolated farm in Longsaddle, near the city of Luskan.
Wendell remembers very little of his early childhood. It’s mainly a blur of his time on the Tinselfoot farm, nothing earlier than six or seven years old (though it should be noted he has no idea of his actual age or birthday). He was a quiet, solemn kid who dragged his feet (hooves) about doing farm chores and would instead sneak into the fields with a book to read the day away. He particularly enjoyed stories about paladins slaying devils and demons, or adventurers getting lost in the faewild and falling prey to fae trickery. He tried to cut off his horns at around age 11, and was stopped by his mother after cutting one. It never fully grew back. He was uncomfortable with his tiefling appearance, especially since other tieflings didn’t seem to have hooves like him, but he has more or less gotten used to his body as he grew up.
Wendell (early 20s) went to the same shop in Luskan three days in a row to study a scroll of plane shift. It was 500gp and he couldn’t afford it. He would clean for two hours in exchange for one hour of study time. On the fourth day when he was studying, the shopkeeper told him someone (Roben Klement) was buying every spell scroll in stock and he had to hand it over. Wendell, frustrated after having just spent time cleaning, asked if Roben could wait a while longer. Roben let Wendell keep the scroll. When Wendell said he didn’t need any handouts, Roben replied that it was just a gift from one magic enthusiast to another and left. Wendell caught up to him and asked to work to pay for it, like he had done at the shop. Roben says he always has components to process if he wanted to come over.
After a few weeks, Wendell casually mentions he wants to go to school but can’t afford it. Roben offers to pay, Wendell declines. Over the next week, the Tinselfoot farm gains dozens of new clients wanting to stock their produce and dairy, the Tinselfoots become quite wealthy very quickly. Wendell is suddenly able to go to school. Roben denies involvement but Wendell knows better.
Wendell is grateful but not stupid. He is very dedicated to Roben, despite knowing very little about him. Wendell also knows this debt will likely need to be repaid at some point in the future, not with money, but more likely with favors or allegiance, which at this point he is happy to do.
Wendell maintains a small apartment in Luskan, and frequently travels between there, Longsaddle, Candlekeep, and Silverymoon. His knowledge (and level) come from diligent study, NOT real world application. He spends his time teaching, and researching interplanar travel and the tiefling bloodline curse.
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Longsaddle Gazetteer - a review
Longsaddle Gazetteer - a review
I got to read the new release from @WhitbyWrites and it's absolutely worth picking up immediately.
If you like horses, magic, strange wizards, & small frontier towns in D&D, then look no further!
#dnd5e #dmsguild #ttrpg
A recent release on the DMsGuild, the Longsaddle Gazetteer is a creation of Matthew Whitby, an accomplished guild writer and the host of the Dungeon Master’s Guild House podcast / YouTube series (it’s the same thing, but maybe you want to watch or just listen). By asking nicely, I was lucky enough to get a review copy of the Gazetteer, so here’s what I think.
First of all, wow. It looks really…
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#5e#5e d&d#5e dnd#d&d#dmsguild#dnd#locations#longsaddle#longsaddle gazetteer#matthew whitby#review#roleplay#roleplaying#roleplaying games#rpg
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Kohlenthia Playlist
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4p96UDcgKuAT2mSZzoYga6
To The Great Unknown - Cloud Cult
This is Kohl vibes, as she’s starting to just, BE - with the group, and her faith, and coming into her power and the constant decisions to choose kindness over violence when she can - its very much about her beginning to understand her place in the world, which as far as im concerned is gloriously at odds with that palace being one of strength and violence often, and the tone of the song being really fragile and gentle - because in a lot of ways her faith (asspecially in herself) IS fragile, and this is all one big scary adventure she’s learning how to both enjoy and have agency in.
One Tin Soldier Rides Away - The Sugar Chasers
This song really rings with me about the principles of Kohls idea of justice. She’s GOOD at violence, but she doesn’t think people should be hurt with no reason, and this would be the kind of tragedy that would make her blood boil.
Winged Hussars - Sabaton
This is just a very PALADIN song, to me. Unwinnable battle won by fantastical savior with bullshit powers? PALADIN SONG.
Burn it to the ground - Nickelback
This is… basically the anthem for Kohl and Orbits friendship. (Which…makes it sensible that the others have stopped leaving them alone in rooms together when it can be helped XD)
Corsican Mastiff Stride - the mountain goats
Summoned steeds, long journeys and adventure.
Surface Pressure - Jessica Darrow
I don't ask how hard the work is
I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanded, but
Was Hercules ever like “Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus”?
Under the surface
I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service
This one is pretty self explanatory.
She’s a fighter, and she will fight ANYTHING she’s pointed at, if it needs to be fought! That used to be all there was too it, but over the campaign she’s getting insecure about the inevitable day she wont be able to win a fight - and helm knows she can never SAY that. She’s Helm’s Axe, she can’t be NERVOUS. She’s love to take a goddamn break, but who IS SHE if she’s not helping someone?
The (Shipped) Gold Standard - Fall Out Boy
Sometimes I wanna quit this all and become an accountant now
But I'm no good at math and besides, the dollar is down
I wanna scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs
But I'm afraid that someone else will hear me
You can only blame your problems on the world for so long
Before it all becomes the same old song
Yes, that middle verse is @ Fairheart. Of course. She has SO MUCH love for them and good god, she does NOT know what to do about it. She didn’t know back in Longsaddle, and she was still hasnt quite figured it out. And now theres more things to consider, these days.
But the rest of it fits Kohl too - she will never ever say it because she can’t even THINK it too loudly, but quitting sounds SO NICE sometimes - to run away and let the world be someone elses problem. She never would, it’s not a good enough trade, but it SOUNDS nice. And, in her mind, maybe all these hurts she’s seeing that she can’t fully heal - maybe the common denominator is HER. Everyone says the world is just broken, and it IS, but what if the only reason she can’t FIX things is because SHE’S not good enough?
Kid Fears - Indigo Girls
What would you give for your kid fears
Not the friends she’s found, never. But fuck, she is SCARED. So scared that small fears seem comforting.
This song makes me picture Kohl, ten years older, still on the road, still fighting, and part of her regretting the path her life took, while knowing she couldn’t have done anything differently.
Eat You Alive - The Oh Hellos
Kohl has a complicated relationship with her sense of justice, and the dedication to her path, and this is what it looks like more often then not these days.
Stay The Course - NatewantstoBattle
This song is like a conversation between Kohl and Helm. Who is who? Really depends on the day.
White Flag - Bishop Briggs
Just a paladin song. She’ll destroy herself for a fight she believes in before she backs down.
Until The Wolves Come out - natewantstobattle
The feeling this song gives of giving a fight EVERYTHING, until you’re past your limit and keep going, but also, procrastinating, about other things. IT KOHL.
Parts of this one will make more sense… later. But you get it now! Lucky you!
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Character Commission: Taidgh the Unyielding
Taidgh, inspired by Wayne from the comedy series Letterkenny is the toughest man in Longsaddle. On a trip downriver one day, he and a group of friends witnessed an Apocalyptic disaster that caused them to seek shelter in a nearby village. Within the sanctuary of an untouched church, refugees cowered from vicious fiends that sailed in with the raining fallout. A priestess declared them heroes from the moment they crossed tge threshold and charged the party with assembling other prominent members of the town so their safety might be ensured.
Taidgh is quick-witted and brusque with a code of conduct that demands he never turns away those who ask for help. That’s all well and good on the farm. It has even made him close comrades in the small town’s militia as well, but this is well outside Taidgh’s typical experience. What’s more, he is accompanied by an odd lot that, while having good intentions largely, may end up being a liability. There’s no way he can do this on his own. Will his ability to stand back up after every defeat continue to serve him or will his next fall be his last?
Commissions will return again in April 2022. You can DM for a quote or to make a reservation.
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((Relentless live-read! Wow it’s been awhile since I mustered up the energy to read something! Through to the end of part two, chapters 12 and 13.))
The first thing I’d like to say, is every time Braelin Janquay appears on the page, I wave like a Mom seeing her child in the school play, playing a tree. “You’re doing great sweetie!” Considering the situation in question, that’s probably the best that can be said of it - though he does stand up to Dab’nay when she scoffs over humans being no better than drow, pointing out that no, and that says something about drow, doesn’t it? Considering he’s always been a remarkably calm and reasonable drow, I hope this shows that there’s no chance of Dab’nay getting back together with Zak, though that might be wistful thinking on my part.
Skipping over the whole “the drow in Luskan gave it a tenday before wanting to give up which is rather short-sighted for elves” and “everyone - Kimmuriel - remembers illithids are bad and in Exile Drizzt had these same sensations of peace and comfort from the Hivemind and that was bad, right?” Mostly because if I start going down that route I’m going to have to drop my head onto my keyboard and sigh again.
That all moves rather neatly through chapter twelve, and thirteen is...an ominous number. We finally get everyone in the same room, which is good. Including Jarlaxle and Zaknafein - wherever they’ve been and whatever they’ve been doing. (We went into excruciating detail with Yvonnel the Younger’s little band, we could have gotten one scene of Jarlaxle and Zaknafein doing something. But whatever, I can apply a fanfic patch for that, that’s just a canonical missing scene.) Unfortunately there is no weight to this reunion at all, no “oh good my friends are still alive.” I’m getting used to that too unfortunately.
And also the dump of information of where they were and what they were doing, fine - but if this was supposed to be the end result, giving them information enough to reveal to everyone, why did we need to trudge with them through the castle and find things we already knew? Further, isn’t Cattie a mage? Shouldn’t she have been able to scry? Oh, fine, maybe she couldn’t but what about all those of Longsaddle that so much fuss is made over in these books? Surely someone could have cast the spell for her, or Yvonnel the Younger instead of trekking all the way there... Look, I get it, I’m a big fan of “show” rather than “tell”. But this dragged forever and nothing happened that we, the readers, didn’t already know!
Then, here’s the crux of it: One, Why does Artemis get more lines in this chapter than Zaknafein who just heard his son was dead? Two! I never ever ever want to hear “Zaknafein is racist/unsure of grandchild” after he was the one who literally caught Cattie-brie as she swooned. And his instant reaction of “Fine, we’ll go to the Abyss then”. And his declaration after getting Death Gifts that he is staying here and learning. (And his snarl and followed quiet grief of “eyes large and sad, gaze cast down” and trembling hands to take the swords, ring far, far more true than any of Cattie’s reactions.)
But at least there’s a Zak Hug in the chapter so that’s...something.
Yeah. Basically this should have been a much, much earlier chapter, and reactions should have been much better thought out. But these cardboard cutouts of characters finally got hauled into the same room and we can move on now.
...to another Zak Journal. This is going to continue to be a thing, I see...
#((mel reads drizzt))#((relentless live-read))#relentless spoilers#((mel reads the realms))#relentless critical
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Was asked to revisit an older location in the Forgotten Realms lexicon: the town of Longsaddle.
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