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scuttlingcrab · 2 months

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"The doublet is a magical item, so it can fit and mould to Raphael’s body no matter his form or temper." Now I'm just picturing Raphael transforming in anger while wearing the doublet and his rage is momentarily stopped when he realizes that it transformed with him and wasn't even singed.

Like, I could be incredibly angry with someone, but if I suddenly realized that my dress had pockets in it I know darn well that I'd need to at least stop and take a moment to marvel at that discovery before even thinking about continuing on with my anger. 😅

I was literally working on something similar when you sent your message! I've attached the ask below I was initially responding to. Thank you for your message anon and hope you enjoy! x

"Also, the idea of Raphael showing off his new clothes is just- It just tickles me! I can see him preening and flaunting like a peacock because of Tav's gift. I'd honestly read a sequel piece about that, if you want to write it. I've kinda already fallen in love with the whole idea of a luxury magic tailor Tav that the initial prompt fill and response has created as well as that Tav's potential dynamic with Raphael (and other characters *looking at Gale and his sewing needle quip*) and would absolutely be down to read more of that from you! 👀"

Summary: Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Notes: Read A Perfect Fit, which inspired this continuation.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Dressed to Kill

Raphael stomped through the halls of the House of Hope, shedding his mortal skin. The doublet didn’t set fire when Raphael transformed, instead, it morphed with his growing size. The silk fabric soothed his ridged body, feeling like a warm embrace. Raphael suppressed a scream. Wretched mortal! The debtors scurried out of his path like rats, seeking the shadows for an ounce of solace from the blistering rage.

He passed an open window and jolted to a halt. The blood-red light of Avernus caught the designs of his doublet, causing it to glimmer like diamonds. During his shift, the colour of his clothing changed. It now had a dark golden shimmer, the infernal embroidery a deep blue. He extended his arm, admiring the sleeve as he twisted it only slightly, and watched as the adornment reflected tiny devilish patterns onto the marble floors. The decorations moved, as if dancing. Another interesting, subtle detail.

Staring at these animations, Raphael’s breath calmed, his mind cleared. He stood taller, his head never held so high. Abruptly he spotted one of the debtors staring at him from his peripheral and lowered his hand, slowly turning to face them. Fire burned in Raphael’s eyes as he hissed, barring his sharp teeth. The debtor screeched before scurrying off to continue their meaningless eternal task.

“If I catch just one more incompetent lackey idling about, I will impale your sorry souls on trees and leave you to rot. You are all interchangeable. Do not forget that.”

Raphael watched as the last debtor fled from his sight. He will not be caught off guard again. No. In fact… he will pay that creature a visit.

–

Raphael materialised at the creature's camp in a swirl of flames and sparks, returning to his mortal disguise.

The camp was quiet at this hour, the creatures asleep, separated into their individual makeshift tents. And what a ghastly camp it was, third-rate, at best. Miscellaneous equipment littered every corner, books lay discarded, shoddy clothes hung drying on trees, and the animals… When did these mortals domesticate owlbears? Savages.

He slowly approached Tav’s tent, nestled towards the lake's shoreline. He parted the flap with an index finger and peeked inside. The creature was fast asleep, sharing her tent with that monstrosity Karlach.

He watched them sleeping, so defenceless. He perked up at the thought. If he was so inclined, he could have easily ended their lives, consumed their souls before the tadpoles defiled them; all it would take is a snap of his fingers…

“Rise and shine, little mouse.” Raphael purred.

Tav sprang up from her bed roll, clumsily readying a dagger from her sleeve. She held it out towards Raphael, one eye still closed, as she fought off the interrupted slumber.

Karlach simply turned over in her bedding, yawning and stretching like a cat. She slowly opened her eyes, sitting upright when she spotted Raphael standing at the entrance.

He smirked in response, placing a hand on his hip.

“What the hell is this creep doing here?”

“Good evening to you too, Karlach. I am simply checking in on my prospective clients.”

Raphael bowed deeply, making sure to be as flamboyant as possible in his gesture.

“In the middle of the bloody night? Fuck off, devil.”

Raphael slowly straightened himself, adjusting his sleeves. He aimed his cuffs towards the campfire, taking care to make sure the lighting was just right to highlight the devilish decorations.

“Tut, tut, Karlach, language. If I wanted to hear such hideous sounds I’d speak with a lemure.”

Karlach leapt to her feet, the rickety infernal engine in her chest glowing brighter as she stared daggers at him.

“Karlach, please…”

Tav raised a hand at Karlach, putting away her weapon. She rubbed away the rest of the sleep and focused on Raphael. Her face instantly lit up when she caught sight of his doublet.

“You’re… wearing it?” Tav whispered. She brought her hands to her mouth, attempting to hide her flushed cheeks.

“But of course! How could I resist such a delicious gift? It’s not often a devil like myself comes across a mortal with such curious tastes. Your attention to detail is…”

Raphael dramatically clasped his hands together, as if in a prayer. Yes, indeed. Thank the Gods up above for damning these poor creatures and sending them straight into his claws.

“Superb!”

“Hells, what have you done?” Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

Tav gave Karlach a sidelong glance, narrowing her eyes. Raphael’s smile grew, devouring the creature’s disapproval and embarrassment. Almost as scrumptious as a soul.

“You are quite the seamstress. What else have you been creating on your adventures, hmm? I wonder, what would be the price for another item such as this? Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?”

Tav’s mouth hung open at his words.

“I-I-uh, didn’t think that far ahead. Let me sleep on it.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little mouse. You had my curiosity, but now… you have my full attention.”

Raphael raised his arms out wide, like a peacock strutting their finest feathers. He laughed as he surrounded himself in infernal flames. He had truly stumbled upon his greatest prize, his secret weapon to uniting the Nine Hells. Raphael would reach his target soon, that was for certain, but oh, oh yes... he would look hellishly chic in his pursuits. He would turn heads, devils and mortals alike.

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gnomishcunning · 3 months

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bg3 companion camp habits

ft. astarion, karlach, wyll, shadowheart, lae'zel, gale & halsin

Astarion

earliest to bed, earliest to rise. it leaves more time to sneak around at night. unfortunately for him that means lae'zel has him on hunting duty, in order to find something substantial for dinner the next day.

insures team tadpole camps within walking distance of some source of running water. if not running water, a lake; if not a lake, a pond. after tagging around with tav all day and coming home covered in blood, his daily soaks are sacred

despite actually not needing to sleep, his tent is the cushiest in camp: his bedroll is piled high with luxurious furs and silken pillows

trances with curlers in his hair. that coif doesn't maintain itself y'know, as much as astarion would like you to think it does

Karlach

her tent is open-air in order to reduce the likelihood she catches it on fire overnight

simultaneously a super-light sleeper while retaining the the ability to fall asleep within five minutes in any given environment, on any given surface. ten years in avernus have honed those survival instincts into a sharp edge, and she can be up and ready to brawl in an instant

banned from contributing to dinner on account of infernal taste buds: the amount of chili powder she'd added to the group soup that one time almost killed shadowheart and made astarion get the night sweats for the first time in 200 years

her contributions to camp including anything involving copious amounts of hot water. unfortunately, this usually has her stuck on laundry duty with halsin

Wyll

next to halsin and karlach, wyll's the most comfortable camping in the wilderness on a day-to-day basis. seven years as the blade of the frontiers meant wandering the sword coast looking for monsters, and not all of that was near civilization

crippling addiction to tea. picks up local varieties at every settlement the party passes through; it's what you see him swirling in that silver cup of his night to night.

while gale's in charge of dinner, wyll's in charge of breakfast. he's got a carafe of coffee on the fire when people start to rise, and there's always a pan of something delicious-smelling and ready to dish out by the time someone manages to wake up halsin.

he's had that ripped-up crop top he sleeps in since his teens, and it's been worth to that point of sweet age-soft. he has trouble sleeping in anything else at this point

Shadowheart

doesn't need as much sleep to function at full capacity the next day: she's perfectly fine on five or six hours. whether that's a lucky genetic twist of shadowheart's genetic heritage or a blessing of shar is anyone's guess - this usually has her as the second one awake

tends to volunteer for first watch and uses that time to pray

has a bit of a second sense for finding good campsites: places with highly defensible positions, a fresh water source, carefully tucked into the shadows of natural glades or high rocks

has one of the more elaborate hair routines in the group, second only to astarion's curl-care. she and the vampire spawn have a silent agreement to assist with setup and share haircare products when necessary.

Lae'zel

self-assigned camp commander (not camp mom - astarion tried to make a snide comment once and was glared down). her militaristic upbringing has left her the only one with enough organizational skills to insure the motley crew of team tadpole don't accidentally starve themselves to death in the wilderness

keeps an exacting inventory of what they have on hand, from food to spell-scrolls and spare socks and tadpoles in brain-jars, must to her chagrin. anything taken from the traveler's chest must be noted so she can keep track of what the team needs

created a chore chart. the chore chart is holy. it plays to everyone's strengths and evenly distributes labor. astarion once tried to fuck with it: he was left doing his own laundry for a week, much to his chagrin

as much as she'd like to brag about githyanki endurance, she requires an exacting eight hours of sleep to function. the rest of team tadpole insures she gets it, since nobody likes a grumpy githyanki

Gale

self-assigned camp cook within days of joining team tadpole. to his surprise, lae'zel completely agreed

has a few cookbooks stacked among the piles of literature around his tent, including a dog-eared recipe book from mama dekarios. his travel spice-rack was an additional gift from her as well, one he covets with all his heart.

could care less about his lion's mane and mostly resolves to slicking it back with whatever oil or grease they have on-hand first thing in the morning, but takes exacting care of his beard

has a bad tendency to stay up too late sleeping, and is subsequently the last one to rise first thing in the morning\

Halsin

doesn't even bother to set up his tent half the time, perfectly willing to spend the night in bear form. this has caused some confusion first thing in the morning when an actual bear wandered into camp one morning and wyll greeted it warmly, much to halsin's amusement

will grow goodberries to add to the morning's oatmeal or pancakes; secret weakness for coffee

tends to tackle laundry duty with karlach, mostly since the giant mountain of a druid is the best at actually toting mountains of blood-spoiled linens across camp.

assists with hunting duties, even if the meat he tends to bring backs is a little more roughed up compared to astarion's exsanguinated prey

bonus:

Tav

group oddball, usually ends up doing whatever odd chore lae'zel assigns them

unofficially in-charge of campfire entertainment, including breaking up fights between lae'zel and shadowheart over go-fish, or insuring astarion doesn't cheat during poker

the camp keeps meaning to buy them a tent. they never do. tav's been crashing around the campfire since the beginning, and they only actually get a tent once they have a significant other

not allowed to assist with dinner since the Noodle IncidentTM

#bg3 #bg3 imagines #bg3 headcanons #bg3 companions #balduramblings

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cielsosinfel · 4 months

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Some tidbits from the Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus adventure module (2019) that I want to save for future fanfic-writing pondering.

What Is Avernus? (p.75) Avernus serves as the front line of the great clash between the evil forces of chaos and law known as the Blood War. Demons from the Abyss use the River Styx to enter Avernus, where they hurl themselves against infernal legions of devils.

Avernus was not always the blasted, war-torn battlefield it is today. Long ago, it was a plane of lush gardens and bucolic beauty created by Asmodeus to tempt mortals. The intrusion of the River Styx followed by endless waves of slavering demons destroyed this paradise, leaving layer upon layer of bones, ruins, and shattered war machines. Pieces of cities stolen from other planes, tiny remnants of Avernus' lost beauty, evidence of destroyed celestial armies, and tombs of ancient travelers all dot the Avernian wasteland.

Avernus is not a place expressly for the punishment of evil souls; instead, it represents a "next level" for evil souls after the end of their wicked lives as mortals. The Nine Hells allows souls to exist in a concentrated form, where they can work through their spiritual bondage to express their dark desires such as cruelty, covetousness, the need to control, the craving for power, and uncontrolled greed. Hell offers an eternity of fulfillment from the most insignificant desires to the seven deadly sins. Every shred of evil is used in the Nine Hells, and each layer specializes in some way to accommodate and exploit the vices and weaknesses of mortals. The devils of Avernus seek to exploit pride and wrath, promising the aggrieved, enraged, and egotistical the power to fulfill their darkest obsessions. Such fulfillment, however, comes at a price.

Anyone entering Avernus finds a battlefield unlike anywhere else in existence. Evidence of past carnage, such as ruins of enormous war machines and fields of bleached bones, stretches across the horizon. Through it all, the River Styx winds its way across the plane as knots of demons and devils skirmish along its fetid banks.

Most devils in Avernus serve Zariel, though other Lords of the Nine send forces here to help repel demonic invaders. Devils who are not part of Zariel's legions serve as emissaries from the other layers or as spies for archdevils seeking signs of weakness that they can exploit to further their dreams of power.

Features of Avernus (p76)

The hellscape of Avernus sits under hideous clouds that obscure the vault of the sky, from which the occasional meteor streaks before crashing into the ground. Ambient light continually swells up from just below the horizon as thought lit by nine setting suns, yet no actual celestial bodies fill the sky, no sun, moons, or stars. This constant twilight makes it difficult for the denizens of Avernus to track the passage of time.

The atmosphere reeks of brimstone and burning tar, and hot gusts of wind shriek across the hellscape to scour the land below. Sometimes these winds swirl into immense sandstorms, which can strip flesh from bone and plunge everything into darkness.

Biting flies, hellwasps, and blood-sucking stirges patrol the air, hunting for any source of blood to feed on. Swarms of them can grow so large that they blacken the sky and deafen the ears with the sound of their wings. On the ground, wandering bands of nupperibos-blind, bloated castaways of the damned-move in thousands like living lakes of groaning flesh in their agonizing search for food. Bone fields, quicksand, bubbling tar pits, lakes of lava, canyons of wailing souls, and salt flats made from the tears of the damned all await those who wander the hellscape.

River Styx(p76)

The River Styx courses through the Lower Planes, frustrating every attempt to map it or predict its course. Getting lost while sailing the Styx isn't the only danger the river presents. Simply tasting or touching its waters can shatter a creature's intellect and personality, as well as strip away its memories. Certain fiends are immune to the river's effects, but most creatures have no defense against it.

Demon Ichor(p78) Demon ichor is what remains behind after a demon dies. It's a reduction of demonic blood, viscera and bodily fluids with the consistency and odor of bile. Enough demons die in Avernus that their ichor forms pools and small lakes. Although the ichor is harmless on most planes of existence, it can warp creatures on the Lower Planes. Devils and other creatures have found ways to use demon ichor in rituals and to improve the performance of infernal war machines.

Commerce (p78) When it comes to the souls of mortals, the Nine Hells is always open for business. In Avernus, the business is war, making sure the frontlines of the Blood War are continuously replenished with fresh troops, weapons, armor, and war machines. The main drivers behind this infernal commerce are treasure and soul coins. Treasure is only valuable to devils because of its efficacy in tempting and twisting mortals (humans in particular) toward lives of corruption, ultimately leading them to forgeit their souls. Because gold has been used for millenia in the Nine Hells, adventurers can find gold coins from civilizations long lost to history. Silver is Harmful to devils. nevertheless, devils trade silver to those wishing to eliminate rivals in their path.

Food and Drink (p78) Wisdom (survival) checks to forage in Avernus are made at disadvantage. Water exists, but tastes foul and is hard to find. Food can likewise be scrounged, but the flora and fauna taste revolting no matter the manner of preparation. Even rations brought to Avernus taste bitter and ashen.

Infernal Order of Battle (p.76) Whereas demons attack in disorganized mobs, relying on shock and overwhelming numbers to carry the day, devils organize into a basic unit called a legion. Each contains one thousand devils organized as follows:

1 legion = 10 cohorts, commanged by a legate 1 cohort = 10 lances, commanded by a signifier 1 lance = 10 devils, commanded by an optio Ranks of miserable lemures and nupperibos compose the base of dreg legions, while bearded devils and merregons make up the bulk of regular legions. Each legion sports a unique name, usually denoting its purpose and numerical designation. Examples include the following:

5th Infantry legion, "Infernal Absolution" 13th Cavalry Legion,"Bel's Fury" 47th Dreg Legion, "Piteous Fodder"

"Life In The Nine Hells (p.9) Paradise Lost Before the Blood War reduced it to a blasted wasteland, Avernus was a honey trap created by Asmodeus, a paradise of infinite delights designed to lure and enrapture mortals. Fragments of this lost paradise still plunge from Avernus' sky as burning meteors, and the land is dotted with the ruins of palaces and idyllic gardens that were obscenely beautiful in eons past. Fleeting reminders of this ancient paradise can come to characters in the following ways:

While traveling across Avernus, the characters glimpse a fantastic mirage: a grand palace or garden oasis that vanishes when they get within 100ft of it.

A random character hears beautiful music or laughter, catches the scent of flowers or perfume, or experiences a gentle caress. The sensation has no discernible source and fades after a few moments.

The characters find a relic that survived the fall of paradise, such as a beautiful vase or toppled statue. The first character to touch the relic experiences a fleeting moment of pure joy.

Anywhere is Everywhere

Geography warps at the whims of the Nine Hells. One of the liberating aspects of this planar feature is that you don';t need to be fastidious about keeping track of where locations are in relation to one another.

While the spatial distortion can be unsettling to visitors, it affords you the following benefits as a DM:

You can decide how long it takes for characters to get from one place to the next. For ex., the characters might need to travel 6 miles to get from Fort Knucklebone to Haruman's Hill, and 60 miles to get from Haruman's Hill back to Fort Knucklebone.

If the characters are in a rush to get somewhere, an imp could appear out of nowhere and, for the price of a soul coin or other valuable item, show them a shortcut that halves the distance the characters must travel to reach their destination.

The Wandering Emporium (p. 126 [emporium of merchants under the auspices of Mahadi, a rakshasa businessman and information broker who does business in across the nine hells and material plane with Asmodeus as his patron]) can show up almost anywhere in the Nine Hells, at any time. If the players don't know where to go or what to do next, or if you want to surprise them with fun roleplaying opportunities, have the Wandering Emporim arrive at the party's location, regardless of where they last saw it.

Everything's Awful Avernus is insidious in the way it fosters greed and makes visitors pay or barter for the things they need to survive. Most of the wildlife on Avernus is not edible to mortals, and most sources of water are poisonous or otherwise tainted. The rarity of edible food and drinkable water encourages hoarding behavior.

You can remind players about the awfulness of Avernus in the following ways:

Any food or drink the characters bring with them or conjure by magic retains its nutritional value but tastes awful when eaten or imbibed on Avernus. The food tastes like ash, the water tastes like bile, and the wine tastes like spoiled milk.

If the characters want something that tastes good, they must buy it from licensed sellers such as Mahadi the rakshasa, who runs a restaurant called Infernal Rapture (see page 219). The price of good-tasting meal is always a bit too high.

#mine poste #reference #avernus #bg3 #did i buy this just so i could use it for raphael fanfic writing purposes yes #not rly bg3 but its literally the set up for bg3's world setting lmao #i'll post more later i'm still reading through the book

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torntruth · 4 months

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✨ - for your muse to catch mine shirtless . - for karlach

i. action prompts , accepting , @thcdoomed .

the tiefling is like a fucking ... she doesn't even quite know what her thought process was. it felt negative. what she is, without the negativity, is a person who misses her partner whenever dronia isn't at least one room over. there's a gifted cigar between her clawed fingers. she's sitting just on the bench outside their room. the new one with a little balcony overlooking the lake. the last light they fixed up. she isn't wearing a shirt. the weather has a crisp feeling to it and she's just enjoying it. since the months the curse has been lifted, this land has been rebuilding itself quickly. taking everything back. she now sees what everybody was devastated about.

with the cigar dangling between her legs, her free hand traces the little metal bar that held the infernal engine in place. a frown. there's an identical one on her back. she doesn't even quite remember if the tattoos surrounding the machinery came first or the machinery came first. most of avernus, the first time, was a real blur. she has flashes of hacking apart imps and moments of trying to be herself. otherwise, for the most part, she couldn't be herself. she had to be zariel's.

karlach flinches, head turning quickly, the hand with the cigar raising. as if she was absolutely ready to fling that at someone as a weapon. it's the way she instantly smiles, this small flicker to her lips, body relaxing again, returning to it's hunched forward position overlooking the lake. all when she realizes who it was. it's hard to believe that a few seconds she was so eerily unsatisfied with herself. now she isn't quite as much.

" hi, love. you're back early. "

#[ 𝐜𝐡. ] - the infernal‚ 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 .#[ 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩. ] - you get me through every dark night‚ 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 & 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡.#[ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫. ] - thcdoomed‚ 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞 .#i got so excited i forgot to detail the bouquet of flowers she's holding #but it's okay lmaooo karlach was a little depresso expresso she might have overlooked what dronia was holding

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s1r3nsc4llwrites · 7 months

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The Importance of Touch

Summary: 5 Times Elxian gave Karlach the affection she needed and the 1 time Karlach returned the favour. Pairing: Elxian/Karlach Wordcount: 5277

Karlach hadn’t felt this in control of her flames since she left Avernus. Her heat, her fire… Touch. Could she touch someone? Hug?

“Did.. Did it work..?”

Dammon shrugged. She looked at the infernal smith, his smile was hopeful. “Only one way to find out.”

She turned to the group, to her leader, Elxian. No words were exchanged. He looked up at her, a soft smile on his face, one she’d grown fond of as he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

A hug. She was getting a hug.

Karlach froze. It's been ten years. Ten years without this kind of touch. The softness, the care in which he held her.. Oh gods how she missed it. Karlach melted into the hug, wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed as she tucked her face into the crook of the warlock’s neck. The tiefling took a deep breath, letting herself take in Elxian’s presence.

She felt his hold tighten around her shoulders. She felt the tears well up in her eyes. She felt him rest his head against her own.

She felt a person against her again. It felt good.

“Thank you…”

She felt a kiss against the top of her head.

The group had set up camp, not far from Last Light Inn. It had been a long day of fighting and planning and everyone just wanted to lay down for a bit and rest. The group had already bid everyone else goodnight.

Karlach laid on her cot, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. How long has it been? An hour? Two? She didn’t know. All she knew is that she just couldn’t. Get. Comfortable.

So she stopped. She flopped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling of her tent.

The Tiefling stayed like that for a little longer before leaving her tent to go sit at the edge of the small lake they set up by. Karlach let out a sigh.

She hasn’t had this much trouble sleeping before- She didn’t understand.

“Now I just need someone to cuddle up to tonight, and I’ll be the happiest woman on the Sword Coast.”

Karlach.. Didn’t really mean that when she said it earlier. She only meant it as a joke- I mean, she said Withers when Elxian asked if she had anyone in mind! She got that hug from the warlock already, she could wait a while for more affection. Another night isn’t much after ten years.

…Right?

Fuck it. She wanted to be held. Sue her.

The barbarian looked over to the rest of camp and contemplated. Who could she go to? Lae’zel, as much as Karlach loves the gith, but… Yeah, no. Astarion? No, his aversion to touch is a very valid boundary. Even if he never says anything, she could never do that to the vampire. Shadowheart? Wyll? Halsin?? All three of them are pretty viable… But Shadowheart’s been very conflicted lately about Shar.. And Wyll about his father. Halsin-.. Karlach just doesn’t know him well enough.

The tiefling’s gaze landed on Elxian’s tent, and she simply stared for a little bit. A little bit turned into a while and suddenly she was standing up and started walking over to it.

She stood in front of the entrance to the half-elf’s tent. He wouldn’t mind, right?

Karlach shook her head and did a few little jumps. It was just asking for a hug! That would last the entire night! After Elxian already hugged her earlier today!

She can’t do this.

“Fuck, I can’t do this…!” She huffed, just a tad too loud. A groggy voice, laced heavily with sleep came from the closed tent.

“Whowassat…?”

Shit.

“Ah- Sorry, soldier… Didn’t mean to bother.”

She started to backpedal to her tent until Elxian spoke up again. A little more awake, but his words still slurred together. “Mm.. Nono, Embers.. Gimmie a moment…”

There was some fabric shuffling inside the tent, and Karlach dug her heel into the ground, feeling awkward as she waited. It didn’t take long before Elxian opened the flap and walked out, adjusting the shirt he had just put on. His hair was messy and his eyes half lidded as he looked at the tiefling. He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he looked up at Karlach.

“What’re you doing up so late, Embers.?”

“Just- couldn’t sleep.. Sorry t’wake ya, soldier.”

He gave her a groggy smile and a soft pat on the shoulder. Karlach pretended she didn’t miss the short touch as she averted her gaze.

“Like I said, Karlach. It’s alright.. Are you sure that’s all?”

Yeesh… Was she that readable? She’ll have to fix that later. But right now, the warlock was looking at her with such an… Open expression. She contemplated not telling Elxian about what was on her mind, but knowing him, he’d probably figure it out eventually and (softly) berate her for not telling him sooner. He may do some pretty crazy shit (she did too, she had no room to judge), but the warlock could read all of them like the back of his hand, keeping note of everything he could about his team, big or small. He was sweet like that. So she sighed.

And she told him.

“Just…” Karlach took a breath. She could do this. She was just telling him about how she needed some comfort. That’s all it was.

“Icouldn’tsleepbecauseIwantedtobeheldbutIdidn’tknowhowelsetogotosoIcametoyou.”

“…Huh.?”

Silence.

An awkward cough from Karlach. Oops..

“I.. Mentioned cuddling up to someone for the night earlier. As a joke. Or- Well, it was supposed to be a joke. I didn’t realize just how much I meant what I said. Which… Is ironic, now that I’m thinking about it. I had mentioned to you how many times I wanted some kind… Any kind of touch. I didn’t really know who else to go to. And well- your hug earlier wasn’t half bad.. So…”

“You needed a cuddle buddy?”

The barbarian started digging her heel into the ground again. Reluctantly, she looked over at Elxian.

Nothing but sincerity in those eyes, and a small smirk of amusement. Of course the bastard was reacting this way. Karlach huffed out a laugh. Partly from her own amusement, the other partly relieved.

“Yeah… Yeah. I needed a cuddle buddy.”

“Well?” Elxian took her hand and started walking back into his tent, dragging her along with him. “What are we waiting for? You’ve lost a good bit of sleep already, and we can’t have that, hm? We have to catch you up on ten years worth of hugs. Best we start now.”

The tent flap closed behind the two of them and the half-elf didn’t waste any time getting comfy on his cot, pulling Karlach down with him. The barbarian didn’t really know what to do once she laid down. Should she move closer? Let him do his thing?

Cut her some slack. It had been ten years, okay?

She saw Elxian roll his eyes with that same smirk from earlier, and next thing she knew, the warlock slipped an arm under head and draped the other over her body, pulling her closer. He tucked Karlach’s head under his chin with content hum.

“You still run hot.. Like a furnace, but now I can actually hug you.. It’s perfect.”

She chuckled again, feeling more comfortable as she settled into the hug, wrapping an arm around Elxian’s waist and rested her head against his chest.

“Glad I could be of service..”

“Mm.. Nigh’ Emberz..” She felt him snuggle closer, and a comfortable slumber already began to take him. Her amused smile softened as she felt his breathing even out.

Karlach pulled herself even closer, savouring the comfort. Hm.. is that vanilla..? Lavender..? Both..?

Soft snoring came from above and she stifled a chuckle, closing her eyes. Both..

“Thanks, Elxian…”

Sleep had never come so easily for the former soldier.

It was early evening, and Karlach watched the warlock take his turn on cooking duty for the group. She wasn’t going to lie, Elxian was probably the last person (after Astarion) she expected to know how to cook. He was clumsy (in an endearing way) and all around just… Didn’t give off that vibe. She couldn’t have been more wrong, or been so happy to have been wrong. His dinners were delicious!

The warlock was focused on his current task, keeping an eye on the simmering stew over the fire. The half-elf was focused- you could tell by the tongue slightly sticking out of his mouth as he kept an eye on the pot. The tiefling smiled softly at the sight.

“Embers, c’mere.”

Karlach jumped. She didn’t realize he knew she was there. How long has he known for? Ah. Didn’t matter. “Aye aye!”

She made it over to Elxian and stood beside him. “Whatcha need, Soldier?”

“I need you to try this. Tell me if I need to add anything.”

“You got it! Hit me.” Elxian took a spoon and scooped a small portion for Karlach to try. She took the bite without much of a thought, humming happily at the taste.

“Gods, I’ll never get over your cookin’, soldier. It tastes great!”

A laugh escaped the warlock’s lips as he set the spoon off to the side. When he looked back over to the tiefling, he wiped a bit of excess soup from the corner of her mouth. Karlach smiled slightly at the touch.

“I’m glad you like the food. Wanna help me finish making it? I just need to chop up a few more veggies for the stew.”

Karlach raised a brow at him. “You sure, soldier? Remember last time I was on dinner duty?”

Another chuckle escaped his mouth. “I know, I know. But this time you have me here to help you. Let me show you how to do it. Are you down or not?”

The tiefling continued to watch for a bit before nodding. “It couldn’t hurt to help you out a bit.”

“Perfect! Okay, come here- Hold the knife like this-...” The half-elf began to guide her hands, showing her how to hold the knife and how her finger should be so that she wouldn’t cut herself.

“Thanks a bunch, Embers. Now I can focus on the stew a little more.” He pressed a kiss to the barbarian’s temple, gave her a quick side hug and a squeeze, and then went back to watching the stew.

It continued like this for a while. Her chopping up the veggies for the stew while he stirred in the chopped food. It was so… mundane. Calm, Domestic..

They didn’t get many chances like this, and she definitely didn’t have moments like this while stuck in Avernus.

So she cherished these moments. Every moment she could.

“FUCK!”

A loud crack resounded through the vast darkness. Dead tree bark splintered and flew as Karlach threw a punch at the already brittle bark, breaking through to the other side. She was panting.. Panting? No, too panicked and angry for that. Wheezing.. Hyperventilating. The tiefling pulled her hand away from the tree and began pacing.

There were too many feelings, too many thoughts, going through her mind. Angry thoughts, sad thoughts, it was too much. Her tail swayed erratically as she shook out her hands, hoping the stimulus would calm her down. It didn’t.

The group stood a small distance away, watching with worry, but unsure of how to help. The fight against Thorm was tough to say the least. Everyone was tired and still reeling from the information they learned at that moment. Karlach especially. Seeing her ex boss, the one she trusted with her life, the one who betrayed her so thoughtlessly..

The barbarian let out another yell of frustration as she threw another punch at yet another decayed tree. Her breathing was getting heavier, her heart was beating faster. Her thoughts were too loud. Of course! Of. Fucking. Course Gortash was related to this! The bastard was always related to every single shitty thing in her life.

Her mind continued to swim as she shook her hands more, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. The tiefling was far too absorbed in her own thoughts, so the sudden touch made her jump as she spun around quickly.

“Whoa-!” Elxian pulled his hand away (she missed the feeling already) and jumped back and narrowly avoided getting swiped across the chest by Karlach’s tail. The warlock recovered quickly, though and stepped closer to her. Breaths came easier, if only by a fraction.

“I… ah.. Sorry, soldier…” The barbarian spoke, trying to catch her breath. It was hard, and she still couldn’t focus. She reached for her chest, grasping at it as if it would help her. Karlach was quickly lost in her own mind again, looking in the direction of Elxian.

“No worries, Embers.. I’m here. Just focus on me, okay?”

The half-elf pulled Karlach from her own mind again. As a calloused hand- his calloused hand cupped her right cheek softly, she immediately closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. She felt Elxian take her other hand in his own with the same softness, a softness she cherished. He opened her hand up and placed it against the left side of his chest. Karlach could feel the dull pulsing of his heart, the way his chest expanded when he took a breath.

“You feel my breathing, Embers?”

She nodded.

“Perfect. Try to copy it for me.”

He took a slightly more exaggerated inhale, and the barbarian followed the best she could. It started off with shaky, laboured breaths. No matter how hard Karlach tried, she couldn’t steady herself. Everything was still too much-

She felt the warmth of his forehead against her own, her outstretched arm being pushed closer to her body, but still felt Elxian’s chest against her palm. The scent of smoke and ash was strong, but she could also smell a hint of vanilla and lavender. Elxian. She let his closeness take over her senses.

“There you go, Karlach. Follow my breathing.”

And she did. Her breathing evened out, the storm of thoughts slowed down, and her tail stopped twitching and whipping around erratically. Instead, it swayed slowly as she moved her hand away from Elxian’s chest. The barbarian brought her hands up to cup his cheeks and moved her head back to get a proper look at her leader’s face. She smiled softly and he returned it with a small smile of his own.

She let her thumb run along Elxian’s cheekbone, along the wisps of permanent red smoke on his face. “Thank you, soldier.”

“Any time, Embers.”

She stared at the corpse of her ex-boss. Where was the elation..? The.. Satisfaction of it all? She killed her tormentor! She should be ecstatic!

Why wasn’t she..?

“I killed the bastard who ruined my life, and my prize is that I get to crawl into a corner and die?? Am I fucking missing something!?” Karlach barked out.

Elxian frowned as he took a step closer to his companion. “Karlach..”

“I- I can’t do it anymore… It’s been ten years, man.. It’s enough- It’s… It’s enough..” She didn’t look at anyone as she spoke. Didn’t want them to see her like this.

But she just couldn’t take it anymore. “He’s dead now… and he’s no fucking sorrier than he was before..”

Karlach didn’t hear Elxian, nor did she want to look over at him. She didn’t want to see how he was reacting to all this. She couldn’t.

The tiefling looked at her hands. “What’s the point..? I’m still dying-,,, I-I’m dying… I’m going to die-!!” Her voice began to rise in volume. It felt more raw, her throat tightening. She tried to swallow it down. To somehow- anyhow- but..

“I’m not going to let that happen, Embers-”

She interrupted him, “What- got a fucking miracle in your back pocket you didn’t tell me about!?”

She thought she saw Elxian frowning, though he didn’t speak up. Maybe it was good that he didn’t.

“I'm going to be as dead as a gortash any day now. any moment. and what then..? Off to the city of Judgments to waste into Oblivion? Into the dirt to get eaten by maggots!? Is that it for me-?? Is that all!?”

Elxian took a step closer to her. She didn’t back away from him. All she felt was the torment- the anger, the fear.. And the exhaustion. SHe finally looked at him.

“And you-.. You'll just keep going won't you? Watching the Stars, warming your hands on the campfire.. dancing, eating, making love all night-?? All of it- All of it!” The tiefling roared. These emotions just kept bubbling up to the surface as she spoke. She was in her own mind yet again. The barbarian couldn’t see where the warlock was, but at that moment, she didn’t really care.

“This… This is my reward for everything I suffered- That’s why I survived ten years of Torment-.. the fighting, the clawing, the loneliness- the fucking loneliness- All of it so I could rot., Because the person I trusted the most gave me away to the devil-!”

Karlach felt the tears streaming down her face a while ago. She knew she was going to cry. To sob. She didn’t care anymore. She finally felt the familiar arms around her waist and the familiar scent of vanilla and lavender, no matter how faint it was. The barbarian broke into sobs. Her arms wrapped around Elxian’s shoulders.

“It isn't fair.. I don't want it like this… I don't want to die.. I want to live.. I want to stay… What the fuck am I supposed to do now…?”

She… Didn’t so much as relax into him… More- Melted into his arms. The tiefling felt him rub circles on her back as he tightened his hold on her. It was all too much, and she was just.. Over it.

“I’m going to find a way for you to stay up here. With me. With us.” He pulled back and cupped her face gently to make the taller woman look down at him.

“I’ll talk to the Steelwatchers. They work with Infernal metals for a living. If I can’t do that, then fuck it all. I’ll go down to Avernus myself to find away, you hear me? I’m not letting this slide, Embers.”

Karlach looked into his heterochromatic eyes, and all she could see was determination. She didn’t know how much she could believe right now… But it made her feel lighter.. Seeing someone fight so hard for her. She slowly wrapped her arms around Elxian in return.

The warlock guided her head lower, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re going to stay. I’ll fucking make sure of that.”

“...Thank you..”

“You can thank me when you’ve been on the surface for 11 years.”

+1.

“If something happens.. If I’m not myself.. Stab me.”

“Elles-.. What-?”

“Stab me.”

“And what if it really is you..?”

“Then you better patch me up good, little wyvern. Because if you can’t recognize when it’s the real me after all this time on the road? You owe me.”

They were just going through Rivington. That’s all it was. For once, Karlach stood by Elxian’s side at the back of the group. He was observing everyone ahead with a small smile as they exited a shop, having just finished with stocking up on items. It was calm.

They were prepared to get their Fighter back, and while they kept their companion at the front of their minds, the day went well. The day was good.

Was.

The barbarian had been walking for a while before she realized Elxian wasn’t by her side anymore. Karlach looked back to see him staring off to the side.

“Soldier..?” No answer.

Concerned, she went back over to the half-elf. Her concern grew considerably when she saw the expression on his face.

Shock? Hope?

Desperation. He looked desperate.

Karlach looked in the direction her leader was looking. There she saw it- or who. Tall, maybe a couple inches taller than Elxian. The same lavender eyes as his right eye. The same auburn/black hair tied back into a low ponytail, a braid woven into the side. Cool toned skin.

The tiefling remembered what he told her. His past. What happened to his sister. But- Elora was here now.. a soft smile (It looked the same as Elxian’s smile, but… not quite. Something was off.) graced the woman’s face as she leaned against a nearby building across from them. Things didn’t add up.. Karlach’s brows furrowed.

Elora stepped away and behind the building. Elxian stepped forward.

“Elxi-“

“…Elora.? Elora-!” Elxian ran. Karlach followed.

The two of them crossed to where Elora was quickly, and the warlock made a mad dash behind the building. His sister stood across from him.

“Hey, kid.”

“Elles…”

He took a couple tentative steps toward his sister. She was there.. Elxian could really see her. Elora was in front of him.. He placed a hand on the ranger’s shoulder. Placed his other hand on the side of Elora’s neck. Cold.

“I’m safe, Elxian.. I’m here.”

“I know.”

“I’m here, little dragon.” He smiled, pained.

“…I know.”

Karlach stood back. She was worried and surveyed the area. It could be a trap, an ambush… Something- anything.

Things weren’t right. How in the nine hells could his sister be here? Just.. Suddenly here in front of them? Like nothing happened? Elora was gone for six years. Why would she show up, suddenly perfectly okay, as if she wasn’t abducted by gods knows what?

She wasn’t the only one who questioned the validity of the older Sylnor sibling in the end.

“Ack—“

Karlach looked back at them at the sudden yelp. The barbarian turned back to the siblings to see Elxian’s left hand pulling a newly bloodied dagger from Elora’s abdomen. The blade was slick with shining red liquid, droplets falling from the tip. Karlach could only star in shock.

“Elxian… How could-“

“You aren’t her.”

“Wh- Elxian..” A pained hiss. “What in the nine hells do you mean..?”

“You heard me. Now..”

Elxian stepped back, closer to the barbarian. She pulled out her great axe from her back. When she looked back to Elxian, she only saw the side of his face, but…

All the tiefling could see was the pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes.

“Get the fuck out of my sister’s body, you fucking wretch.” He flicked his dagger, shaking off a good portion of blood from the blade.

‘Elora’ stayed hunched over her wound for a moment. A moment became two, then three, then the woman began cackling. It was sinister, crazed… She looked back up to the two with a grin. Her irises were milky white.

“Oh, you’re a fun one, aren’t you? Just like that dear older sister of yours.”

The imposter brought her hands up to her neck.

She snapped it cleanly.

Karlach saw Elxian grimace in her periferal.

They watched as Elora’s body continued to snap and pop grotesquely until in a puff of magic, they watched Elora’s body dissolve into nothing. The two warriors watched a woman, clad in red, sickly white skin, long blonde hair..

Orin the Red.

“You caught on fast, I’m nearly impressed!” Orin stood straight, paying no mind to the injury she just sustained. The Bhaal Spawn stepped closer to the two slowly, twirling her own dagger in her hands.

“You know, Elxian.. That dear sister of yours is the most fun I’ve had in six years.. It’s been so long but she has yet to break! No matter how… Creative I get.”

“You.. You sick fuck..” The warlock’s red eye glowed red with hot rage as he made an attempt to close the distance and slash at her once more. Orin side stepped it with ease.

“Tsktsktsk… That’s quite the statement, boy.” The woman’s grin widened. “I look forward to it!”

Another swipe, another dodge.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Another one.

“I’ll get my sister back, and I’ll paint the ground red with your remains.. I’ll make you suffer-“

Orin caught his wrist after another attempt.

She licked her lips and grinned.

“Then come get me, little hero.”

She disappeared in that same iridescent red smoke that took Elora all those years ago.

Elxian’s arm dropped. He stood there motionless for too many, deathly silent moments. Karlach took a tentative step closer. He made no motion of noticing.

“Elxian..?”

“I’m going to kill her..”

He simply stood there. Then, he moved closer to the building.

“Piece of shit!” He threw a punch at the wall. And another. And one more.

“Fuck!” Hit.

“I’m going to kill her!” Hit.

“She‘s going to pay!” Hit.

Karlach didn’t waste anymore time. She made it to his side and caught his hand before he could land another punch on the wall. His knuckles were bloodied. This was the first time she could properly get a look at his face in full view this entire encounter. Tears streamed down his face. The warlock was choking back his sobs. His eyes held the same rage as before, but now so much more. Frustration.. More desperation.. Sadness.. Defeat..

She decided she never wanted to see him like that ever again.

Karlach pulled the half-elf close. She hugged him tight around his shoulders, a protective hand on the back of his head as she guided it to rest against her. She felt him grasp at her back desperately. It was as if the contact was his final straw before he sobbed fully into her shoulder. He tried to press himself closer to the taller woman, as if he could. Karlach could only let him as she began to run her finger through his hair while keeping her tight hold on the warlock.

“I need her back..”

Karlach nodded. “We’re going to get her back, soldier.”

“We have to..”

“We will, Elxian. I’m sure of it.” She did what he had done all the way back at Last Light, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Tears continued to stain her shoulder as she began to rock them from side to side. It was quiet for a while.

“Wyvern..”

“Hm..?”

“It was Little Wyvern.. Not dragon… Elora had been calling me that since I was five… Said I was ferocious like one.. I was a really rowdy child..” She felt him huff out a tired chuckle as she let out one of her own.

“That’s cute.”

“Mm..”

The barbarian didn’t know how long the two of them were there for, but eventually she felt his breathing even out again, felt his heartbeat slow down. He slumped against her limply. He fell asleep in her arms, exhausted. She couldn’t blame him.

She heard a pair of hurried footsteps and familiar voices.

“By the gods, slow down!”

“Shut it, Astarion! I think I heard Elxian this way. I’m worried.”

“My! That white hair has really changed you, dear.”

“Oh shush, you!”

Karlach saw their two companions round the corner and stop suddenly once they were in view. They looked even more concerned than Shadowheart sounded as their eyes landed on Elxian and herself, along with the state of the area.

“Is he-“

Karlach interrupted Shadowheart. “Another encounter with Orin.” She paused, wondering if it was alright for her to mention what happened fully, Elxian never hid his past from the party, though. “She shifted into his sister. She has Elora.”

The two frowned, as did she when she looked down at the sleeping form of their leader. His face was tear stained, as was her shoulder. His brows slightly furrowed in discomfort even as he slept. The tiefling adjusted her hold on him, supporting his back as she lifted him up into a bridal carry.

She frowned softly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Her frown softened as she watched his brows relax, even if by only a little bit. His head rested against her shoulder while she made her way to the other two.

Astarion and Shadowheart looked softly at their companion. Astarion wiping the warlock’s cheeks softly to clean up what he could of the tear stains, and Shadowheart pressed a light peck of her own to Elxian’s temple.

Karlach’s face steeled into a more serious expression. “We’re going to get Orin back for this. She’s going to pay.” She saw the other two nod.

“Let’s get back to the inn and let this soldier in a proper bed.”

With another set of nods, the three of them set off to return to Elfsong.

Elxian awoke slowly, his eyes bleary and his throat raw. He remembered the encounter.. The outside.. Were they back at Elfsong..?

“What..” He realized a little too late that his head was against someone’s chest, his head tucked against the crook of the person’s neck, and finally there was an arm under him that wrapped around and held him close. It was warm, and he could hear the soft sounds of mechanical whirring by his ear. Ah, Karlach..

“Hey, soldier..”

“Hi..” He felt the hand move up from around his waist to his scalp, her long nails scratching softly as the barbarian ran a hand through his hair.

It felt good.

A soft hum of appreciation escaped the half-elf’s mouth as he cuddled closer into the tiefling. Her hugs were nice. They were warm, comfortable… Safe. Elxian hasn’t felt this safe in the arms of someone in a while.

“How long was I out for..?”

“About..” Karlach was silent for a moment. “Three, maybe four hours.”

Elxian moved back a bit, wide eyed as he started up at her. Karlach smiled at him. Soft. Unjudging.. “You stayed the whole time I was out.?”

Karlach chuckled. “You wouldn’t let me go, soldier.”

“Ah-! I’m so sorry!” His face and the tips of his ear went red with embarrassment as he tried to get up and move. “I’ll let you go-“

“Whoa, Elxian!” She wrapped her other arm around the warlock and pulled him close, tucking him under her chin once again. “I never said I didn’t want to be here, now did I? I’m more than happy to give my favourite warlock some TLC.”

Elxian was frozen for a moment, then the tension slowly eased from his body as he let out a quiet laugh. “Don’t let Wyll hear that, now..”

He could hear and feel the barbarian’s cheeky grin. “My lips are sealed.”

They stayed like that for a while. Laying in bed, simply enjoying the other’s presence beside them.

Eventually, Karlach spoke up. “We’ll get her back, you know..? Your sister, I mean.. You heard Orin. As much as I wanna smash her head to bits, I believed her… About your sister not breaking. We’ll get her back to you. I promise.”

The warlock stayed silent for a while, but he nodded against her neck. “Yeah, I did too.. Elles is strong.. Always has been.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

“I can’t wait for her to meet all of you. She’d probably poke fun at me, tell me ‘Good job, little wyvern! You finally made some friends!’ Since it’s always been me and her… I think she’d quite like all of you.. You especially. You’ve got that drive she likes in people.”

“It’s an honour someone like her would like me, heh..”

They lapsed into another comfortable silence.

“Hey, Embers..?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you..”

Elxian felt a kiss against the top of his head.

#baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #bg3 #tav #shadowheart #karlach #astarion

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just-late-roman-republic-things · 5 months

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Look, I know I joke about Marcus Agrippa's love of building things a lot, but the man did so much shit that even his biographer Lindsay Powell lost track of it all. Powell forgot to mention Agrippa apparently also had the world's first major road tunnel built:

The tunnel is nearly a kilometer long, but lit by 30-meter ventilation shaft shafts going up through solid rock. Agrippa also had the Secret Important Military Tunnel decorated with statues and a colonnade. Because of course he did.

Oh, and this is the same tunnel connecting Cumae to Lake Avernus, aka "that time Agrippa built a navy in a lake the Romans thought was the entrance to the underworld." After Agrippa's navy beat Sextus Pompey, the tunnel was opened for public use.

The tunnel remained open for nearly 2000 years, and only closed after literally getting bombed in World War II. It's still intact - but now closed to provide a home for endangered bat species!

#jlrrt speaks #marcus agrippa #Grotta di Cocceio #jlrrt essays

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dejahisashmom · 2 years

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Lake Avernus Mythology, Oracles, and the Underworld - Historic Mysteries

Lake Avernus Mythology, Oracles, and the Underworld – Historic Mysteries

https://www.historicmysteries.com/lake-avernus/

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infernalenginesheart · 6 months

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Return to Avernus

My tav Odile X Karlach (newer relationship, conflict)

Odile knows they should talk with Karlach about what is to come, but it seems there would never be a "good time". Now or never, apparently.

Content warnings: swearing - Dammon said a return to Avernus was the only way to ensure Karlach's engine wouldn't blow.-

At least a week had passed since Karlach had been "fixed". Fixed was such an odd way to describe it, Odile had already found her rather perfect before, but the inability to touch was something to be remedied. That's better- remedied.

But Dammon's words kept rattling around their brain, not much better than an illithid tadpole, if they had any say in it. How the fuck were they supposed to bring this up to Karlach? Had the two of them not just confessed their love to each other? Had Karlach not just touched someone and had someone touch her in return-? It wasn't that easy. Nor could it ever be.

Karlach stood on the balcony of the Last Light Inn, her arms resting on the railing. The party has just returned from helping Thaniel and Oliver return to each other, but time for rest had not yet risen in the party's conversation.

Odile approached from the side, like one would a horse as if not to spook it, though Karlach surely had heard them taking their sword off their back and leaning it on a barrel. Wind seemed to curl around the edges of Karlach profile, her expression stoic.

"You're never one for such a serious expression," Odile smiled lightly, leaning on the railing. The red tiefling let out a soft sigh.

"I know what you want to talk about." Odile's hand gently trailed up their lover's arm, picking at leave stuck in her cape.

"I have half the mind to pretend I'm not sure what you mean," Odile cleared their throat, shifting their weight uncomfortably. They turned to face over the railing, shoulder to shoulder with Karlach.

The lake beyond the Inn was black, expansive, the waves breathing in the evening air. The breeze wafted back over them, Karlach's cape fluttering against Odile's. Karlach's tail sliced at the air in a short, swift motion.

Quiet hung between them for more than a moment. Odile was terrified to look over at Karlach.

"We could just... not talk about it at all," she whispered.

"Karlach...."

"We could pretend we didn't hear him say a thing, just carry on the two of us like we had been."

"Karlach..."

"Don't say my name like you pity me," Karlach's voice rose, just the slightest. Odile felt their heart jump at the burst of energy, moving from such quiet and stillness.

"I'm sorry, I would never- I don't mean-"

"I know. I'm sorry, soldier."

Karlach moved back to the railing as her outburst had carried her back, away, but her forearms came back to the railing this time. Her hunched stance was closer to Odile's relaxed height, the other tiefling hesitating before their body seemed to sway towards their lover. Their chin rested on her shoulder, their arms snaking around one of hers, so strong and sturdy.

"I can't go back, Odile," Karlach shook her head, looking down at her hands.

"I would rather die tomorrow having gotten the freedom I've had than go back. I can't- I won't- I-pfft," Karlach gave up on words, blowing air between thinned lips.

Odile's grip loosened.

It was understandable, not wanting to go back. More than understandable. They knew that, understood that. "W...H...Mm," Odile cut themself off before giving up.

"You're going to protest that? Say I should go back?" Karlach was the one to withdraw again, standing up, torso finally facing towards Odile.

"I don't want... to write it off compl-"

"Don't want to write it off? Fuck, Odile! Did you not listen to anything I told you about where I'm from before or-or-or was I not convincing enough?" Fire grew in her chest. The flames kicked up beneath her armor, her eyes wild.

"Karlach- forgive me. Forgive me for I am selfish at heart, and considering you could drop dead at any second- making that not as much of a possibility is selfish but can you blame me?"

Karlach's chest heaved with furious breath's at first, but they grew jagged. Unstable, shaking. The hot, angry tears followed easily, her fists balled up at her sides.

"You... I want to be selfish, too," Karlach was fighting hard against the tears and her breaths, trying so hard. "And I'm going to be."

"Karlach-"

But it wasn't worth it. Karlach had already grabbed her greatsword and gone back inside.

As night took the party back to camp, Odile knew they couldn't leave it alone, or they would toss and turn on their bedroll till morning arrived. It would eat them up from the inside.

Karlach lay in her tent, strange considering she was always outside of it, it seemed. Odile could see her outline from inside, the soft glow of candlelight outlining her silhouette.

They knew Karlach would hear them outside, the grass under their feet.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Karlach, I won't be able to sleep if we don't talk about it."

"Not my problem," she tried to say with bite, but it was a weak attempt, her voice not convincing. Odile pushed aside the entrance to her tent, seeing the large woman curled up on the ground with Clive. Odile sat behind her, their legs crossed, hands in their lap, like a child in school.

They wanted so badly to reach out, to touch her.

"I think... everyone is inherently selfish. I will claim that more than most. I am selfish to keep my loved ones so close. And I am horribly, viciously selfish to want my lover to remain on this existence with me. I am selfish to ask that. But Karlach- I can take your face in my hands," their voice fell to a hush as they used the gentle pads of their fingertips to move Karlach's chin towards them, forcing her to roll over to them, "and I can watch your eyes from between my hands till sleep takes me. And forgive me for wanting to do that until the end of time."

Karlach sat up finally, facing Odile. "You are selfish."

Odile dropped their hand, looking to the floor of the tent, strewn with pillows. "But I need you to channel that selfishness into finding a way to fix me that doesn't involve me going back there. To that place."

"I can touch the ones I love for the first time in ten years, Odile. And I want to hug you until the end of time, I really do, but I can't do it if that is the price I have to pay."

"I would come wi-"

"Odile..." Karlach cut them off, their hands cupping Odile's face.

"I don't have a death wish. I want to... be with you until I can't."

"But what if that isn't much longer," Odile felt their own breath hitch.

"We will get there when we get there! But I just want to focus on you and me, and touching you, the way I've wanted to touch you now that I can. Shit, Odile, I just want to focus on that."

"I need you to promise me first."

"Yes, soldier?"

Odile took Karlach's face in their hands, now mirrors of each other. "If I cannot find another way to fix you, to keep you here, promise me you'll go with me to Avernus."

"You will find another way, you selfish asshole," Karlach chuckled, but brought her forehead to theirs.

"You will find another way."

"I need a promise, you big stubborn woman."

"Fuck off, Odile. I told you I'm not going back." Karlach straightened back up, her hands dropping. Odile's hands, surprised, now hovered near Karlach.

Odile's hands finally moved to their lap again. "You better hope I can find another way to save you, Karlach, or I'll kill you myself," they cracked a joke through watery eyes.

It seemed enough for them both, to lie to each other like that. To create a false plan. At least Odile's plan wasn't entirely false- they would try to find an alternative for Karlach, of course they would. But if going to Avernus was it, that was what they would do.

As Odile lay with their face buried in the muscular back of their lover, arms wrapped tightly around her, the sounds of the night filling their ears, they felt the urge to pray.

For Karlach's sake, for their own- for the solution to be anywhere but where Dammon had said it would be.

"I am going to fix you," they whispered, such a soft whisper it was like a ghost over their lips, lips that pressed into Karlach's warm shoulder blade.

For I cannot imagine who I will become if I cannot.

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