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vemaro · 3 months

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let’s not do anything hilarious

A link to the master post

Summary: Astarion Ancunin has two objectives whenever he comes to Baldur’s Gate. One: keep Tav happy. And two: keep Callum happy. As of right now, he is failing quite spectacularly at both. Callum vanished under his watch and his mother is in a state of panic. It’s been years since she’s worn that wrecked expression and he never wishes to see it again. The only way to fix that is to locate the boy and bring him to her as quickly as possible.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word count: ~2200

Notes: I can’t seem to get myself to write the thing I want to write, the thing I keep telling myself I should write, so here we are again with a random tidbit. This time we get a little Gale time, featuring @necromosss’s Tav, Mira, stirring up some trouble. If you haven’t seen her art, go check out her blog. She turned me on to the Gale romance. I just hope I did Mira justice.

Enjoy!

…

This is the single most devastating moment of Tav’s life. Nothing could have prepared her physically or mentally for such an event. Her heart is pounding, her palms are clammy, and her skin is crawling with so much anxiety she could rip it from her body. Even then, that would pale in comparison to pain she feels a in her very soul.

“Oh my gods, where is he?” Her eyes meet Gale’s then Astarion’s respectively. “Where’s Callum?” When neither of the men provide an answer, only stare back with gobsmacked faces, she turns away to start searching. A hand touches her shoulder when she tries to move away and she flinches.

It’s only Gale, who lets go immediately. “Breathe, just breathe, Tav,” he says, keeping a calm and cool head.

She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Callum is missing. My son is missing.” Saying it out loud makes it feel worse. Tav clutches onto the fabric of her shirt above her frantic heart. “I should’ve been paying more attention to him. Or holding his hand. He’s so small, Gale. So small. What if someone took him?”

The wizard swats away the suggestion. “I’m sure he merely wandered off after spotting a sparkly bauble or colorful trinket.”

“But what if—”

He cuts her off. “We’ll find him.”

“But—”

He cuts her off a second time, firmly grabbing onto both of her shoulders. Her mouth snaps shut and she stares wide-eyed at her friend. “We will find him, Tav. But I implore you to take a deep breath.” Tav nods profusely inhaling through the nose and exhaling slowly through the mouth. Already some tension leaves her. “There. Much better.”

She takes another breath and at least now she can think straight. “Thank you.”

He smiles at her reassuringly. “Of course. I doubt he got very far. Why don’t you search the immediate vicinity? I shall search further up the road, and Astarion, you can—” It’s only now that they’ve both noticed their other companion is nowhere to be found. “Astarion?”

Curse that blasted vampire.

…

Astarion Ancunin has two objectives whenever he comes to Baldur’s Gate. One: keep Tav happy. And two: keep Callum happy. As of right now, he is failing quite spectacularly at both. Callum vanished under his watch and his mother is in a state of panic. It’s been years since she’s worn that wrecked expression and he never wishes to see it again. The only way to fix that is to locate the boy and bring him to her as quickly as possible.

Easier said than done.

He wasn’t at any of the stalls near where they were, nor inside any of the shops. It comes as no shock that no one noticed a small child with blue hair passing them by. If Astarion didn’t have to worry about accidentally exposing himself to the sun or drawing too much attention, this would be so much easier. Wave a dagger here, idle threats there and somebody would’ve seen something useful.

He makes a sharp turn down an alleyway when he spots a woman crouching in front of several stacks of barrels. She doesn’t notice him yet, her focus on something, or someone, hidden from his view. “Hello, little one. Are you lost?”

“Y-yes,” a small voice warbles.

He can’t physically see him, but he recognizes that voice. It’s Callum. Callum is over there, to his immense relief. Astarion’s first instinct is to shove the stranger aside, pick up the boy, and run like the hells, but it’s never that easy. This is Baldur’s Gate, the City of Blood, who knows if this woman has good intentions or bad. Astarion hangs back, sliding back behind the corner from which he came, a dagger at the ready, just in case.

He watches as she scoots a little closer. His hold on the hilt tightens. “Can you tell me your name?” she asks.

“No.”

The woman, a drow upon closer inspection, laughs at the timid yet blunt answer. “Smart boy.” Astarion wholeheartedly agrees. “I’m Mira. I’ll help you find your way home, alright?”

“I miss my Mama.”

She stands up and holds out a hand. “I know. We’ll find her together, promise.”

There’s a long pause as Callum thinks of what to do. “O-okay.” A tiny hand comes out from behind the barrels, latching onto her fingers.

She smiles down at him, hoping to coax him out of his hiding spot. “Okay.”

Astarion has no choice but to step in before they can leave. Thankfully for him, the alley is steeped in shadows, so if things get out of hand, at the very least he can close the umbrella in favor of fighting. Astarion clears his throat and slowly walks their way. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. He’s coming with me.”

The drow jumps, startled by his sudden appearance. “Stay there,” she whispers. She lets go of his hand, guides him back behind the barrels, and turns to face Astarion. She eyes him up and down. “Can I help you, sir?”

He puts on a charming grin and holds up his hand to show he’s not holding a weapon (it’s up his sleeve). “Ah, but you already did. You found my friend for me. Thank you for your services, but they are no longer needed. Good day.” He motions for her to leave.

She takes a defiant step back, closer to Callum. “Are you his father?”

Astarion resists a grimace, because it’s a stupid question and he can’t say yes. “No,” he grinds out. “I’m a family friend.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she challenges.

They’re maybe five feet apart, staring each other down, silver glaring up at red. “You don’t,” he deadpans. He looks past her, toward those barrels. “Come out, little bird. It’s time to fly home.”

Out pops that head of blue hair, followed by puffy, red-rimmed eyes. “Asty?”

“The one and only.” His eyes flicker back and forth between the boy and the woman every few seconds. He doesn’t want either of them out of sight. “You had us all worried sick disappearing like that, especially your mother. She’s looking for you right now.”

At the mention of Tav, the little comes out of hiding entirely. The drow woman still stands guard, hand shifting towards a rapier sheathed at her hip. “Mama?” he chirps.

Astarion nods. “Yes. I’ll take you to her.”

A few things happen all at once. Callum tries running towards him, only to be prevented by her. Astarion reveals the dagger up his sleeve because it seems he’s going to have to do this the hard way. Next thing he knows, a strong gust of wind blows him back against a brick wall and then there is a sword being pressed to his throat. The mysterious woman knows magic. And he dropped the dagger when he hit the wall. Perfect. Can this get any worse?

Naturally, he has to make light of everything, if not for himself, but for Callum’s sake. “Let’s not do anything hilarious.”

She presses the blade ever closer, making the cool metal touch just below his Adam’s apple. “Shut it,” she hisses. “I’m not going to let you hurt him.”

She thinks he’s going to hurt Callum? The idea is so preposterous, he could laugh. He restrains himself from doing so because something tells him she won't share his sense of humor. “This is just one big misunderstanding, dear. Lower your weapon and I will gladly explain everything away.”

Her eyes narrow dangerously. “Do not take me for a fool.”

And yet she is a fool. “I would never dream of doing such a thing.”

“How about I just run a stake through your heart, vampire?” His smile drops as a crooked, snaggle-toothed smirk spreads across her face. “Better yet, I can toss you out in the sun over there.”

Well, shit. This is worse.

A gasp from the little boy turns both of their heads. He’s running away, running right past them, running as fast as his little legs can take him, with his arms extended out. “Mama!”

At the end of the alley stands Astarion’s beloved druid, looking regal under the light of the sun. And Gale’s there too, he supposes. “Callum!” She meets him halfway, deftly scoops him into her arms and squeezes him like her life depends on it. “I was so scared.” She cranes her neck to look him over. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

His voice waivers. “I saw a cat and I wanted to pet it, but-but it kept running away. Then I lost you.”

She closes her eyes and thinks of his warmth breath on her neck, his weight in her arms, his heart beating in his chest. “It’s okay.” He’s okay. He’s fine. “You’re not lost anymore. You found me.”

“I love you, Mama.”

Tav presses a kiss into his hair. “I love you, too.” She kisses him over and over again.

The tender moment is broken with an aggravated cough. “Ahem! Not to spoil this heartwarming reunion, but can someone please tell this madwoman to release me?”

The druid flushes with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she calls. She approaches the drow woman, though she still keeps a safe distance back. “Let him go. Please.”

She glares at her captee. “He’s a vampire!”

Gale tries to talk her down. “Ah, yes. We are well aware of this fact, Miss …” He trails off, gesturing for her to fill in the blank.

“Mira,” she says.

“Miss Mira.”

“Just Mira,” she corrects.

“Just Mira.” He slowly saunters over, placing a hand on Astarion’s shoulder. “He’s actually a very good friend of ours and we’d prefer it if you didn’t kill him.”

“He was going to drink from your son!”

The vampire scoffs. “No, I wasn’t!” He pauses. “And that’s not his son!” The thought of Gale and Tav, together, makes him physically ill.

“Hush,” they both snap.

Astarion begrudgingly obeys. There is still a fucking sword at his throat and apparently he’s the only one bothered by it.

This is going absolutely nowhere. Tav steps a little closer so she’s behind Gale but next to Astarion. “Miss—” The other woman opens her mouth, so Tav quickly corrects herself. “I mean, Mira. Mira. I appreciate you looking out for my son, I’ll never be able to properly thank you for that, but there’s no one I trust more with him than the man before you.” She grabs Astarion’s wrist. “Please, release him.”

Mira’s eyes start on Tav then Callum, flit over to Gale, and finally land on the vampire. They’re all staring at her, hope shining in their eyes and it’s too much for her to bear. “Fine,” she groans before sheathing the rapier and crossing her arms.

Astarion brushes off some imaginary dust from his shoulders. “Thank you. It was about time.”

“You’re welcome,” she sneers back.

Tav’s hand is touching his face, turning his head by the chin this way and that, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

He shrugs, playing it of. “I’ll live.”

“Asty, I’ll make it all better.” Tav semi-reluctantly hands him over to Astarion, who readily accepts the boy. “I’ll give you a magic kiss like Mama gives me.” And he does, right on the cheek, and then Callum hugs him around the neck.

Astarion catches a glimpse of a beaming Tav over the boy’s shoulder and feels his heart melt with sentimentality. Gods below, he has gone soft over the years and these two are to blame. With a sigh, he pats the boy’s back. “Thank you, little bird. I think it’s working.”

So Callum’s fine. Astarion’s got him. Tav feels secure enough to turn her attention back to Mira. “Thank you for protecting my son. Please, let me give you something for your trouble.” She digs into her satchel and pulls out a small pouch heavy with gold coins. “Here. Take this.”

Mira stares at the pouch for a moment, but takes a step back. “It was no trouble at all. Keep your gold.”

The druid is a persistent one. “Then allow me to buy you a meal. Please. I do insist. Please.”

Mira is not immune to those big, doe eyes. She throws her hands up, resigning herself to her fate. “Sure. Why not?”

Tav’s face lights up. “Yes! Perfect. Thank you. I know this place not too far from here—”

“I’m sorry. You expect me to endure a meal sitting across from someone who just tried to kill me?”

Tav chuckles dryly. “I’ve done it.”

Astarion spins around. “What? When did you—” But then he stops mid sentence to cringe. “Oh … right …” She’s referring to the first time he fed on her. He was one gulp away from going too far. Tav passed out from the blood loss and he stayed up the rest of the night to make sure he hadn’t unintentionally killed her. The next morning she sucker punched him. It was very much warranted. “Have I told you how lovely you look in that color, darling?”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

Mira leans over and stage whispers to Gale. “Um, so what’s the story behind that?”

He arches an eyebrow at the query. “To what are you referring to?”

She looks back over at the trio. Tav is fussing over both of her boys, repeatedly asking if they’re okay, they’re unharmed, they’re fine. Mira tilts her head in their direction. “Them.”

The wizard follows her gaze then sighs. “One lunch isn’t a sufficient amount of time to explain that … mess.”

“Is that so?” She clasps her hands behind her back and bites her lip. “Sounds like a good excuse to meet up again.”

Gale’s face burns bright red. “O-oh.” He starts fiddling with his coat, the buttons, the cuffs, anything to distract him from openly gaping at the beautiful woman currently speaking to him. “I-I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

“It’s a date?”

He offers her a shy smile as a confirmation. “It’s a date.”

…

Thanks for reading!

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #tavstarion #dadstarion #tav bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #vemaro #wildweave #gale bg3 #bg3 gale

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loreleyfromouterspace · 4 months

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I am a Gale enjoyer (TM) (in addition to loving everybody else lol) and this gorgeous art by @necromosss about their Rockstar! Tav x Professor!Gale AU has gripped me so much that I just had to write a fic! I expanded a bit upon the art and put my own spin on it, hope y'all like it💞

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #bg3 tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #wildweave #astarion #gale x tav #bg3 gale #astarion x halsin #ursa minor #bloodbear

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legacyphoenixx · 4 months

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Still thinking about the Gale backstory conversation in regards to Kyra and her views on life and a lifetime as a full-blooded elf compared to a human like him and despite already living over twice as long as any human could ever live (barring magical means) and having seen just as many lives end she’s still like “no, I’m not losing you, I’m we’re finding another way to fix this bc I’m not going to just sit by and let you sacrifice yourself like you mean nothing to anyone here and now” to the guy already resigned to his rapidly approaching, seemingly inevitable, fate. a soul that steels his own indeed

It’s literally been a handful of days and she’s already shedding that exterior of being entirely pragmatic and self-sustaining like old skin that doesn’t fit her anymore, not with the adventure she finds herself embarking on and certainly not with the companions she finds herself watching over like that mama owlbear

#maybe goes without saying but ranger/wizard is such an underrated backline duo in combat #some poor goblin tries hacking at the squishy ranged spellcaster and gets chewed up and spit out by kyra’s shortswords #i love them i need a good ship tag for them but ‘wildweave’ is already taken rip #i have so many thoughts about how similar they are at their cores despite outward differences but i need to iron out her backstory first #it’s all fun and games making characters who live really long until you have to think about what all they must’ve lived through in history #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #bg3 tav #baldur’s gate 3 tav #legacy posts #bg3 posting #kyra posting #kyrale

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mufiy-valcuse · 2 months

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~Holly-Moorland~

+The younger adopted sister of Justin Moorland, and grandchild of Mrs. Holdsworth

+Former Witch’s student (Also fifth soul rider but didn’t know for a while)

+Lives in a wagon that travels with the Traveling horse market and Gary goldtooth-also has a little base within the abandoned stable in the wildwoods to store stuff and to live in during the winter

+Main way of making money is selling their charms and potions, through either Farah or James

+Has about five familiars herself, one of which is a goat named radish

+Deathly scared of cars

+Has three-ish horse Northair, Saga, and Tumble(a small little foal)

+Born within the WildWeave

+A lot younger then the original four Soul riders, they are about 14-16 years old

+Scott has on more then one occasion chased Holly down because of the whole half bird thing

+ Strongest with the Moon and Star Cycles, but strongest magic would be her Witch Craft

+Hate GED with a passion on more then once has cursed the work places so it makes it impossible for them to work

+Has one of the biggest crushes on Rania Varanger

#Holly Moorland #sso oc #ssoblr #Finally drew her

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bellassoblr · 6 months

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Wildweaver (Alvirah) neutral coat literally looks like my starter but revamped (yes the mane is tinted reddish it used to be more obvios :(

And Spiritmemory (Audra)... pretti.... mmm....

#ssoblr #star stable #sso #star stable online #starstableonline #sso reshade #star stable reshade #star stable update #sso halloween

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eldritchwaifulavender · 9 months

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Petra porter was a web comic artist down on her luck when suddenly she won a exclusive trip along with 9 others to see a new exhibit at the local museum before anyone else. but when she arrives there is a mysterious power outage at the display leading the tour to be canceled. not wanting to let this one chance to experience something different from her mundane day to day. she sneaks behind the scenes to the exhibit being some meteorite. she goes to take a selfie with the strange rock when she notices a crack. reaching out to examine the rock a strange slimy spider crawls onto her hand biting her before vanishing. now Petra has become spiny weaver aka the venomous spider woman .her worlds one and only spider woman. and just in time as well to fight some strange new crooks appearing around the city.

spiny can shoot organic symbiote webbing has super strength and the ability to climb walls as well as advanced senses of smell and hearing in addition to her spidy sense she also has a pair of sharp fangs . a downside to these new powers is she needs to eat twice as much as she used to due to her and her spider sharing a stomach. spiny can also be seperated from her symbiote or her symbiote can recede into her body to protect itself from fire or sound this will limit some of spinys abilities such as web slinging and can also leave her identity exposed forcing her to have to think outside the box or use tools from time to time. lastly in a pinch spiny can overclock her body and transform into wildweaver. in this form she is alot stronger and can shoot web out of any of the spots on her body she also has a shield that is made of a hardened symbiote material that is immune to fire and sound. the draw back to this transformation is it comes with a time limit since the longer she stays in that form the more energy she burn.s which results in a building hunger. if this hunger gets to be too much it can drive her into a frenzy to find suitable food.

#spidersona #spiderman oc #venom oc #symbiote oc #spiderverse oc

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bridge-to-jorvik · 11 months

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plz gods and aideen dont ever make me go into the wildweave again

#sso #star stable online #sorry but i hated it 🙃#sso spoilers

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ode-to-fury · 5 months

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One Small Freckle

Pairing: Gale/Tav

Words: no clue

Summary: Whoo boy I woke up this morning and this lil drabble basically wrote itself and I like it so much I thought I’d post it. Self indulgent to the max which is my favourite type of fic to write. Gale has some morning after thoughts. This is based on my Tav but idk I think it’s fairly vague.

Gale lay awake, surrounded by Shadow Weave which terrfied and tempted him in equal measure, thinking.

Gods.

He’d meant it as a farewell. He’d meant it as- as a last night, a last wonderful night with the woman he had come to love. He’d meant to show her one more facet of his beloved Weave before the inevitable happened, perhaps to give her something to explore in future. In truth, it had been a selfish, shameful thing, and he’d known it would hurt her more than anything else.

I’m in love with you, too.

He’d made his peace with the fact that his life would pay for his follies. It had all made perfect sense to him. Too much sense. He’d endangered the Weave with his ambition, and Mystra had spurned him, and now, to protect that thing which he loved the most and earn his godess’ forgiveness he simply had to destroy himself.

It had made perfect sense, in his heart, in his mind. No doubt Mystra had known it would, clever, clever thing that she was.

And what would it hurt for the world to have one less grasping wizard in it to sully its wonders? Who would miss him?

His mother, perhaps. And Tara. But the two of them would be safe from the destruction he would cause, far away in Waterdeep. And even more safe, when the threat of the Absolute was gone. They would mourn, but heal. In time.

I’m in love with you, too.

Her hands had callouses on them that scraped against his skin when her fingers danced across it. Those callouses scraped against his own, from the years working with his staff, from writing. Such mundane tasks that he yearned for now. She had one small freckle on the palm of her right hand, just below her thumb, that he could have spent hours admiring. Had she always had it? Or was it from days spent in sunlight adventuring through Faerûn, seeing all those places in the flesh he had only ever seen on paper?

Had he ever loved anything so much as he loved her hands? He remembers the first time they’d touched, trapped in that rock. Warmth eminating from her fingers, even then. If he’d known how the touch would damn him, would he have taken that hand?

Yes. In a thousand different realities. In every lifetime he could concieve of, the answer was yes.

I’m in love with you, too.

He’d attempted to match the colours of his nighttime illusion to her eyes, though he thought he’d come up woefully short. In some light, they seemed grey, like thunderclouds, or green, or blue. Then she would grin, or laugh, and starlight would burst forth from them. Days upon days he could have sat finding the perfect words for that light, for the brown specks that floated in it like leaves on the surface of a pool of starlight. He’d tried to count them, but he hadn’t had the time.

Time. Once he’d thought he’d had enough. He’d thought he would have lifetimes, like Elminster. Thousands of years to unravel the universe, it’s secrets, it’s functions. Now… now when all he wanted was to watch as the corner of her mouth quirked upward, and a dimple appeared on her cheek, now he would run out of that which he had taken for granted for so long.

I’m in love with you, too.

And then. Then he’d made the largest error of them all, and forgotten that she was not a goddess, despite his feelings on the matter, and she would not know to guard her thoughts in the astral plane, when they connected.

Pleasure had ripped through him, as Mystra had shown him, in the way he loved, but knowledge also.

He’d seen her thoughts, the hurt he was causing her, but the love also. A love large enough to match his own, at the least. He’d seen her fears, and her dreams, and her loves. Forests she’d walked through and rivers she’d crossed. Her yearning for greatness and reknown and acceptance. Glimpses of firelight and laughter, of tears and loneliness. Such loneliness it had made him gasp with the pain of it.

They’d mingled and loved like the gods do, but the clumsy fumbling of their mortality had interfered, and Gale had lost himself in the essence of her and had had no desire to find his way back to himself. Not ever.

I’m in love with you, too.

He lay awake in the darkness of his tent. She had fallen asleep after, which he understood. The darkness, the fear of the past days, the battles at Moonrise to rescue their allies, and now this. Now he had added to those burdens.

He’d been walking toward a precipice. Toward the abyss of nothing. Away from the pain of his heartbreak. Away from the physical pain of the orb and his arcane hunger. He’d stared into that darkness that had been beckoning since the day the orb had stolen his powers, his goddess, his life. Mystra had given him a chance to find solace in that darkness. To redeem himself in it, and save the Weave as he did. It was right. It had to be right, or she would not have commanded it, no matter her anger toward him.

I’m in love with you, too.

Away from the darkness there was pain. Strife, death, and pain. But there was life. There was Karlach, with her easy smiles and childlike hope and vulgar humour. There was Astarion, with his snide remarks and his hunger for power that matched Gale’s in a way he did not quite like, but who was by his side when he needed it. There was Shadowheart, who was closed off and sullen but who healed his scrapes and bruises with a wink and always shared her wine. There was Wyll, with his bravery and goodness and who would help Gale think of a word to rhyme with “pool” if he asked. Lae’zel, who could barely hide her smile when he asked her about her home amongst the stars and who was stronger than the rest of them combined. Weave save him, it gave him strength too.

And there was Tav.

I’m in love with you, too.

Before Elminster’s appearance he hadn’t thought about Mystra in days. The realisation had terrified and elated him in equal measure. If she had asked this of him two months ago, before the tadpole, he would not have hesitated, not for a moment.

Tav’s lips had brushed over the mark of the orb on his chest, kissing that which he had been cast out and condemned for. Her lips were soft, despite their time exposed to the elements. He wanted to ask her how she managed it. He wanted to ask her so many things that he did not have time for now.

I’m in love with you, too.

And in the darkness of his tent, surrounded by the Shadow Weave which tempted and terrified him in equal measure he finally realised that something in his heart and mind had changed.

He did not want to die.

The thought terrified him worse than anything else he’d experienced in the past weeks, and there had been some truly bloodcurdling sights.

Somewhere along their journey, perhaps next to the fire when Wyll was telling stories, or fighting with Tav at his back, knowing what she would do even before she did it, or walking along sharing thoughts with Astarion and Lae’zel, somewhere along their journey he had started living again.

Despite the orb, despite the tadpole, despite their dire, almost inevitable odds of catastrophic failure, he had started living again.

And gods, was he enjoying it.

I’m in love with you, too.

The night before he had bonded with her in a way he had not bonded with anyone in his life, not even Mystra, for she had always kept herself apart from him. Tav had had no such boundaries, and he had kept none from her.

Perhaps they would all die before this was over even without him detonating the orb. Perhaps they would transform into illithids and lose their souls. Perhaps this Absolute would crush them without so much as a second thought.

Or perhaps they would triumph, slim as their chances might be.

I’m in love with you, too.

But he would face it at her side. If they found this Heart of the Absolute and they decided it was best he go forth with his plan, then gladly he would. But until then, if she asked him to live he would live. If she asked him to defy Mystra, he would. If there was even the smallest chance that he would one day have the time to write poetry about that small freckle beneath her thumb, he would defy Ao himself to have it. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to live with her, with their friends beside them.

And in the darkness of his tent, surrounded by the Shadow Weave which tempted and terrified him in equal measure, he grinned, and decided he would attempt to get some sleep before what would surely be a grueling day. Perhaps his last. Perhaps.

But certainty was ever an elusive creature when it came to adventures such as theirs. Hadn’t he been telling Tav so ever since Elminster had appeared?

He closed his eyes.

I’m in love with you, too.

#poor boy just wanted sex and instead did a speedrun through a three page long sad backstory lol #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale/tav #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale fic #gale of waterdeep fic #wildweave #my writing

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necromosss · 6 months

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Yeah

#bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 tav #wildweave

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queenaeducan · 28 days

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My ideal gale x tav dynamic btw

#tas talks #tas plays bg3 #wildweave #nsft

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murmursdraconic · 2 years

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Silver Tribe and Ancient Johto

The tribes and clans of ancient Johto could be seen as low tech or perhaps ‘savage’ to other cultures outside of the region. Many are nomadic and move around the land, for trade, mingling, or celebrating shared beliefs about Pokemon. Many are simply named after what they provide to other clans. In Ryuunosuke’s case, the Silver Tribe provided the important metal of the same name, mining it from the mountains in the northeast. They were also known for trading the more difficult to obtain materials due to the dangerous landscape that was ever changing.

Those mountains were home to some of the most dangerous creatures, so naturally the clan has a long history of making peace with such powerful Pokemon in order to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Other clans take up more peaceful areas to maintain as sanctuaries, natural forts to battle against the odds, even strategic areas that maintain intersections for trade routes.

Silver Tribe members undergo a placement of what jobs they should take; the elders assign the new teens with roles they feel fit best for them, and if not, shuffle them around before things are too settled in their ways. Some children take on what their families do for ease of transition into helping out the tribe, or perhaps work with another family if it fits their interests. This can range from traders, to miners, farmers, hunters, dancers and so on.

The only exception is those who become Whisperers, being taken away early on by a Murmurer to become something akin to a druid. Whisperers were an uncommon but incredibly important role to undertake by a person. It was not for the faint of heart and many have even died trying to become a powerful Whisperer in later years. Other names in Johto used for this role include Soothesayer, Beasttongue, and Wildweaver. In Ryuuno’s case, she was placed into this role by the age of six, and was sent on her way, far from many settlements and villages to hone her craft. Whisperers weren’t allowed much time to interact with other humans so there was no loss of their learned skill or a degradation of their exposure to the wilds.

It is said that the ancient tribes that kept the Ruins of Alph safe for a millennia were permitted direct access to the Unown, given knowledge and power from the enigmatic sources that are used today in writing and invention and much more. Most say that these Unown gave the spark to the invention of Pokeballs, that are used sparingly amongst Johtonians. Creating a bond with a Pokemon that involves a Pokeball is a sacred bond that isn’t to be taken lightly. It’s also not easy to create a Pokeball, but going on a small journey to make one is considered a right of passage, or a coming of age event. As such, the area is considered sacred, protected by a clan who claims to be descendants of the old Alph Clan. They reside in Violet Village, keeping a large collection of Bellsprout to protect the land.

When a member of the tribe becomes someone exemplary in what they do, they are permitted a Calling Spirit, usually by another Whisperer or leader. The Calling Spirit is a Pokemon mostly associated with said person, their actions of the past and how they lead into the future. The tribe leaders and elders bring a small group or even one individual to the Ruins of Alph to perform a ceremony at its center, with permission from the Violet Wardens. The Calling Spirit is shown through a series of rituals that include some basic divination practices. It is said that the ceremony asks for the great Unown to bring forth their knowledge and foresight to grant a boon to the person(s) in question. Depending on the Calling Spirit, depends on the foretold future of the individual. Some Spirits bring signs of prosperity, some spell doom. It is customary to wear attire similar to one’s Calling Spirit as respect for it, as well as a sign of unity.

If someone should disagree with the reading, they are free to contest it. Such an action is considered disrespectful to the higher power, and results in a taboo amongst tribe and clan members. Most people either move from their original group to another, or may go on a personal pilgrimage of self discovery. Another option is to leave the land altogether, going out into the world to find something else to bring back home. Most cases involve the person, dubbed from then on as a Discordant, to go to the Sinjoh Odeum.

The Sinjoh Odeum was a collaborative effort between the ancient Hisui and Johto people, in a sacred area held dear by both cultures. As a sign of peace, it was created to bring about a symbol of creation, renewal, and restarting. As such the contesting of the Unown is seen as a major slight against them, and a form of starting over is believed to be the best way to compromise rejection, and sating curiosity. To become a Discordant can be considered a huge offense to the Unown, and as such most Tribe members do not return home until they have found their personal truth to their Spirit, or simply choose not to. Any who return without it are welcome to come back, but may be treated with disdain or distance. Totems of the Discordant are left in a place well protected by each group, as a hope for finding inner peace, but also a gravestone should they never return.

Ryuunosuke’s Calling Spirit was Tyranitar; a creature of unparalleled destruction, shaper of mountains and monster of combat. It was the polar opposite of Ryuuno’s personality. In her given Calling Spirit, she was one to contest the results. She became a Discordant Whisperer, a huge taboo and mass of confusion for her group. She didn’t necessarily reject her calling, she just couldn’t fathom why that was the spirit she was given. As such, she had the option of leaving the lands to go on a pilgrimage to seek out that knowledge. Being given the right to leave meant going to the Sinjoh Odeum, modernly known as the Sinjoh Ruins. She went beyond that, and now has scoured the lands in search of something, anything to give her some insight to herself.

#Out of Murmurs;OOC #Something Said;Headcanons #Ancient Johto is once again free real estate for me so I do what I want #long post stuff #if anyone reads all of this thanku i love you forever #if that anon is still around here you go have some lore

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