and yet you turned to the book of gale

independent and private multimuse sideblog for baldur's gate 3 rules / character list

[silksworn]

Hosting visitors in her private chambers is a rare things. Moonrise Towers used to be a quieter fortress before the Absolute cultists began arriving in droves. Peasants and bugbears and gnolls alike — no, it had become necessity, even, to make sure her peace remained undisturbed.

As such, her cats are similarly unused to company. Portent, ever the friendlier of the two, wastes no time approaching the tiefling. He quickly abandons Iraestra's skirts to sniff eagerly at the tips of Afhiri's pointed fingers. Finding them to be agreeable, he rubs a cheek tentatively against the side of their palm. The traitor. Omen watches warily, attempting to make herself as small as possible as she skirts around the corner of the room. Curious about the two new humanoids, but unwilling to approach for the moment.

The cats will keep their excitable friend occupied for the moment. Iraestra doubts they would care much for the treasures they are about to show Gale.

"Indeed," she draws back the dividing curtain to allow the two of them entrance. Shelves upon shelves of tomes and scrolls, piles made on furniture when more could not reasonably fit. "A rare privilege you're about to be granted, human. You desired to learn more of the Shadow Weave that hangs heavy here, yes? The topic compelled me as well."

A considering glance, then she sets to select a few volumes. "As I am not a Sharran myself, I do not have the ability to manipulate it as directly as some. But there are ways that even we may harness it." She lets the word we linger temptingly in the air. Gale's frivolous lingering attachments to a goddess who clearly cares little for him is a hindrance he would best do without.

"Here, good starting points. Some are more personal accounts, more fairytale and fear than actual merit. But amongst those are gems from the masters. I have even managed to procure the research of a Halruaan cultist of Shar that served to be particularly illuminating."

[bookofgale]

Afhiri eagerly stroked the soft, silken fur of the cat that graced her with his presence, clawed fingers scratching gently through the thick layers. "Oh.. aren't you the sweetest thing? The most sweet thing!" Her fangs shiny, exposed, small chips on display as she grins wildly, trying to compose herself as much as possible as to not go overboard and scare the cat away. Her eyes occassionally darting to the cat that had yet to approach, hoping to entice it over with the display of a very thorough petting.

Gale took one look back at Afhiri to confirm they were fine and settled, before entering the newly opened part of Iraestra's home. He eyed the books on the shelves with interest, scanning the spines to see if any of these books were new to him, and to his surprise, many of them were. He also noted the ware of them, these books were well loved and appreciated, a fact that shifted his own opinion of the Drow wizard slightly higher in favour.

"Oh but I agree, I don't believe one need be Sharran to be able to harness the Shadow Weave. A wizard such as myself could easily make use of this weave."

His fingers run along the covers, tracing the titles, "There is a truth in fairytale, one just has to know where to look." For this moment, his concerns of Mystra's approval melts away, for he does not believe she would begrudge him simple research, as this is not the first time he has done so - for it is a wizards job to learn all he can, especially of things that could threaten magic itself.

"Halruaan cultist you say? Fascinating."

He took the research in his hands, eyes darting along it's sentences, reading quicker than the average person could. "Most fascinating indeed." After a few pages are greedily devoured by him, he turned to look Iraestra in the eye. "What do you make of this?" He raised a brow. "Separating devotion from fact, the Shadow Weave doesn't seem to have much practical use, beyond the creation of Moonlanterns."

[deepinthemarrow]

@bookofgale || Closed Starter

Evenings weren't as exciting as he would like them to be, even in such a splendid city as Baldur's Gate. Waterdeep didn't seem to offer anything new, either, and Astarion was rather disappointed. Though, maybe he didn't bother to look hard enough...

But what was quite curious was the bard he kept running into on his way. Of course, there weren't many roads to take to get to Waterdeep, but Astarion made some detours, and he fully expected he won't be able to catch up to them.

Yet, here they were.

"You know, the last time I kept running into someone over and over, it turned out he was a devil." He chuckled at his own words, spoken just behind the bard's back. "Should I be concerned about my soul?"

[bookofgale]

Afhiri was parked on the side of the road, sitting crossed legged on the floor with her flute in her hands, claws delicately running along the grooves of the wood, memorising every line. A small hum was on her lips, a piece of her own, medolic and sweet.

When the pale man stood before her, the light of the sun that warmed them was block, sending a shiver down their spine and across their skin in the form of goosebumps. They looked up, and listened to him speak, stopping their humming so they could pay full attention.

Tilting her head, she used her flute to point at him, raising it up toward his face. "I know I look devlish but I'm just a Tiefling." There was a smile on her lips. "You don't have to block my sunlight!" They teased, jumping up to their feet, the bells around their neck jingling as they do, and moving to side of the stranger, stretching and sighing loudly. "That's better... It's cold without the sun, yknow!"

"Oh! Right, your soul, um-" Afhiri looked him up and down. "I think you should be worried about your health more than your soul, friend, you look painfully sick." Her words blunt, not that she looked particularly better, with her thin figure, a sure sign she hadn't been eating enough.

She crossed her arms, tucking her flute under her armpit. "I don't think I remember seeing you.. I see a lot of people!" Her face was scrunched up as she thought. "I'm just a busking clown, definitely no devilishness going on here!"

[silksworn]

It is well that Iraestra stays a few strides ahead of the pair, so the other wizard cannot see the utterly pleased expression that crosses her face at his words. But what Mystra doesn't know doesn't hurt her, I suppose. Not the proclamation of a man staunchly opposed, but who simply requires the appropriate leverage to take what he truly wants without fear, without guilt. Such reservations only serve to hold him back.

Potential roars within Gale, should he let it loose. "It certainly wouldn't," she says agreeably. A velvet glove will be needed in this matter.

The hum of conversation fades away as they reach the older, less traveled parts of the tower. In the bowels of the keep the shadows seem to lengthen, flickering candlelight painting grotesque caricatures of their shapes against the walls.

Iraestra stops their odd troupe at a looming statue of a gargoyle. As always she takes a moment admire it; a rather beautiful piece she'd commissioned from a dwarven stonemason. The maw is stretched in an eternal snarl, wings unfurling to take to the night. Furious breath seems to build within its puffed chest.

She bends to whisper a command in its stone ear. The magic sink within it, a key turning in a lock. A simple charm, but they will have forewarning should there be any interlopers.

The door to her chambers lays just beyond the gargoyle's watchful eyes. She ushers them inside quickly, glancing behind her to assure that they have not been followed. In all the years she has resided in Moonrise Towers she has never felt so unwelcome, nor hunted. The dawning knowledge of what has been done to her weighs heavy on her.

"A temporary sanctuary," her hand waves to encompass the first room of her chamber. The richly furnished room boasts many of her little collections on display - skeletons of small animals, pinned insects, crystals of varying size and hue. An overabundance of velvet and silk expose her for the creature of comfort that she is. "Some of my more conventional readings can be found here, but my library is through the archway.”

The sound of her voice summons two little beasts. The cats greet her with plaintive meows, an assurance that at least something in this hateful place has missed her. Portent slinks from his perch atop a display case to butt his head against her shins. Omen is a little more discerning, stopping quite firmly in her tracks when she spies the newcomers.

[bookofgale]

Afhiri bounds in after Iraestra, spinning around with mouth agape and eyes bright, taking in the sights with greedy abundance, hands eagerly stretching out to touch the fine fabrics, but hesitating at the last moment as not to incur a scolding.

Gale follows suit, eyeing up the location with just as much eagerness, but none of it on display. He finds the archway in the corner of his eye, but dares not show impatient he is to see what Iraestra has hidden away in there. While he has many a tome in his tower, and ease of access to plenty a wondrous bookstore on the Sword Coast, he knows the necromancer is sure to have contents that would never see the shelf of a public facing entity. The works on Shar's forbidden weave here are bound to be grossly informative, though he cannot help but wonderful who would have written them.

Quick to notice the felines, Afhiri's attention is immediately drawn, crouching down to their height with friendly hands lowered, palms up. If the Tiefling was knowledgeable on anything, it's how to approach pets, and especially stray cats, having found many a friend in them back in the Lower City of Baldur's Gate.

"Pspspsp~" Afhiri calls out, hoping to make their acquaintance and become fast friends.

A gentle smile appears on Gale's face looking down at them, using the moment of relative calm to take a few steps in the direction of the archway. "And what we are looking for would be through here, yes?" He peers at the contents of the next room, trying to see as much as he can before receiving an invitation to continue through.

[joesmemes]

Send my muse "why does [NAME] call you babygirl?" for their reaction!

[silksworn]

Iraestra watches the little display with an amused tilt of her head. Ah, lovers then, if the cottoned voice and doe eyes are anything to go by. She tucks such information away in case she should have need of a soft spot to prod later on. The two of them certainly make for an interesting pair.

"Come," she beckons them when Afhiri has quite calmed herself. For now she avoids the main entrance hall, instead choosing to slip into a side corridor. The less attention they garner, the better. Iraestra has no desire to stop for idle chatter with any who may want to steal too many precious moments of her time with their inane needs. Especially should they have the bad luck to run into Ketheric himself.

— Ketheric. Even the thought of the name is enough to make her seethe. No, it would not be wise for her to meet him now, with betrayal burning so freshly in her gut.

"Am I the only necromancer in this world, then? Do we wizards suddenly find ourselves stripped of the ability to harness Her gifts the moment they open up a tome they shouldn't? When they form their tongues around 'forbidden' castings?" She fires off one rhetorical question after the next. It is a shame, that he proves himself to be so narrow-minded.

"There are many we mortals answer to — masters, gods, call them what you like. I do not disrespect Our Lady of Spells, I merely honor another. You have seen me cast, Gale of Waterdeep. Do I seem to have been punished for such?"

[bookofgale]

the pair follow iraestra as she leads them down a quiet path. afhiri follows much like a pet on the heel of their master, sticking close as to not get lost in her momentary distractions, moments where she stops and stands and stares as something draws her attention. gale follows behind, with intent to bring afhiri back to focus whenever that happens.

gale keeps his voice low, constantly aware of how much attention he may draw to them as he speaks of the subjects at hand. "while i have not dabbled extensively in the darker side of the weave, i have no qualms with necromancy itself. no magic is inherently evil, and i quite respect your skills in the art of the dead." his words are honest. despite how much he may dislike the necromancer, he wouldn't ignore a wizards skill.

"it is the art of shadow. i am rather confident that i could excel at such magics, if mystra did not forbid it." he winces for a moment, a jerk reaction. just the thought alone of divulging excites him, but fills him with guilt all the same. to disobey mystra once was enough.

his brow furrows hard as she speaks of disrespect, "using shar's weave is a disrespect to mystra. if her eyes could reach here, i would imagine she would not be kind to you." gale has spoken with mystra on these matters in the past, he has questioned her rulings and her laws, to ask permission to touch where no other wizard could, to expand his horizons and be as no other, but she always denied him. if she could deny him while loving him, she would cut iraestra from the weave in a moment for touching the shadows.

"but what mystra doesn't know doesn't hurt her, i suppose."

[silksworn]

"I would be honored to invite another true scholar such as yourself to peruse my personal collection," she says neutrally. Her tone makes it difficult to discern whether the compliment is met or not. Honestly, the younger wizard amuses her. The tiefling may not have the good sense to distrust her, but this Gale of Waterdeep is clearly more cautious than his companion.

Consort? Lover? Iraestra is vaguely curious about the nature of their relationship, but it is no pressing concern to her. Afhiri will tell on themselves eventually, be it a slipped word or a gleeful declaration. They are alarmingly, stunningly honest. Iraestra is a little impressed that they have made it this far in life with all their limbs, tail included, intact.

Iraestra attempts not to laugh outright at his painfully probing question. Ah, subtly is not just lost on Afhiri, then. "If you ask if I would have squandered the opportunity beneath my nose to harness incredibly powerful magic, the answer is no. You are astute enough to realize that necromancy has its uses as an art; can the same not be said for all magic? Is the pursuit of knowledge for knowledge's sake not worthwhile?" She asks without any real care of the answer; his opinion of her only matters insofar as keeping her near Afhiri and the strange cube they share. Iraestra is endlessly curious about that, and not entirely too eager to lose the sense of self she only just recently gained again.

"If you come this way with me I may show you what I have found. Unless you are scared of what afraid of what I have found in the shadows?" Part taunt, part tease.

[bookofgale]

"while i can agree the pursuit of knowledge of knowledge's sake is a worthwhile goal, i cannot see mystra so willingly allowing you such access to the weave if you were touching something so forbidden.. unless you've ordained to keep it from her." the evoker raises his brow, arms crossing in annoyed defiance, despise knowing how eager he is to follow along and consume every piece of knowledge in the necromancers library. "a necromancer hiding in the shadows from her mistress, most stereotypical." and a wizard devoted to mystra isn't, gale?

the moment of stubbornness was broken by the green tiefling who had snapped out of whatever thought they were stuck in, "let's go!" they say a little too loudly for the place they're in, laying hands on the evokers robe, fingers gripping, ready to pull and drag.

"afhiri, it would be wise of us to keep our voices down here," his voice is surprisingly gentle compared to what someone would normally hear from him. "we wouldn't want to drawn undue attention to ourselves, hm?" his hands find her own, encouraging them to ease their hold and remain calm.

"oh, right.. yeah." their brows scrunch up together for a moment before relaxing into a beaming smile. it wouldn't be surprising if someone thought they were performing head to toe at all times, but the truth is they're just comically expressive. they release gale, turning their back on the two wizards, awaiting a tell-tale heel click to know they're going to be followed.

gale lets out a pleasant sigh, shaking his head gently at them, almost lost in the moment until iraestra catches his eye, the softness of his face tightening again. composing himself, almost shaking himself out, he responds to the necromancer.

"i assure you," bravado at full force. "gale of waterdeep is not afraid of the shadows." he smirks. "please, lead the way." his head bows mockingly. and he speaks the truth, the only thing that has stopped him from consuming all forms of magic is mystra herself. without her watching over him, he would have greedily explored much of the magics already denied to him. and if mystra's gaze were missing anywhere, it would surely be here, a fact that gave him pause.

[silksworn]

Just as Iraestra fingers the edge of her hood to draw it away from her face and reveal her features — for Ketheric's men know her, and know her well — the bardling opens their mouth to let forth honeyed words.

Truthfully, Iraestra doesn't expect it to work. A flimsy non-answer offered and only a hint of flattery — truly that should not be enough to grant them entrance? And yet, the men guarding the way do. Truly, they have no reason to be suspicious of another True Soul amongst their ranks anyhow. The bard and their evoker are anomalies the likes of which Iraestra is still trying to puzzle together.

"I would echo the sentiment," the barest hints of amusement colors her tone. "Do not try the same with Lord Thorm should you meet him. He will not be fool enough to take your sidestepping as an answer."

She supposes she herself is now one too. Even this close to the source of everything, the Voice of the Absolute remains blissfully silent. A revelation that had at first filled her with abject terror before she'd become capable once more of relief. Now, she is just gladdened that her mind is her own once more. Or as much as it can be, with a parasite still swimming in her skull.

The guards at the door appear as slavish, slobbering dogs to her. They belong to something far grander than themselves.

Mystery upon mystery. "Seeking my library will aid us. I have a number of tomes on illithids that we may find useful yet. Balthazar's," she pauses at the rotten taste of the name on her tongue, "Too, if we can manage to slip inside without his noticing."

It frustrates her that she may have had access to materials that could have aided her all along this entire time, but hadn't the ability to question anything of their condition.

[bookofgale]

"lord thorm.." afhiri repeated under their breath. that's the bad guy.. right? "if you say so, irae!" they nodded along as iraestra spoke, but truth be told she didn't understand what was said to her. a library, sure, that one's obvious. but tomes on illithids? what's an illithid again?

as they stepped into the building, afhiri found themselves disappointed. all this excitement about the mighty moonrise towers and the power it holds, but the place looks like a dump, battered walls and cracked ceilings. not unlike their childhood home, a thought that crosses their mind. a huff leaving their lips, deflated shoulders and a dragged step follow.

ignoring afhiri's obvious demeanour shift, gale spoke. "i can't help but find myself fascinated by the prospect of seeing your collection of tomes, iraestra." his hand found its way to his mouth, as he thought for a moment. "and i would not be surprised to hear you have taboo subjects, if that were the case." he shot her a look, curiousity mixed with suspicion. he never suspected her to be in mystra's goodest of graces, but he tried to hold his judgement, and keep his distrust of her contained. while afhiri may trust iraestra, he could not.

"while necromancy is not inherently evil," he continued. "i certainly suspect you've dabbled your hands in other forms of magic. especially here," he waved his hand about. "the shadow must have been incredibly tempting." an eyebrow raised. "have you ever.. tried it?" a weak bait, but he doubts iraestra needs bait at all to confess her sins in the case of magical prowess, especially when it could be used to out-shine the evoker.

afhiri's face scrunches up as gale pokes at iraestra. and who's balthazar?

[bookofgale]

the air was thick, afhiri constantly found themselves forgetting how to breathe, a momentary panic before they settled, usually due to a reassuring hand on their arm, shoulder, back, always coming from a wizard with a gentle smile. they had been in the shadow-cursed lands for what felt like a week now, but one couldn't rely on afhiri to know that, and you'd think they'd have gotten used to the new atmosphere, but it seems not.

the troupe, consisting of afhiri herself, gale of waterdeep and mistress iraestra, lovingly referred to as irae by the pastel tiefling, were approaching moonrise towers, the seat of darkness and evil in this place. afhiri strode forward, full of confidence, although it did not come from a place of knowing what to expect, or how to handle what's to come, but rather the sheer stupidity of not realising this is a situation you might need a plan for, or at least an understanding. an unfitting smile upon her face, they reached the guards.

"that's far enough." the guard stops them in their tracks, eyeing the leader. index finger on his head, he begins to probe for afhiri's parasite, which responds with a purr. "ah, one blessed like myself. what news, true soul?"

you could almost feel the anxiety within the evoker, it was always frightening waiting to see how afhiri would respond to questions in high stake situations, and this was looking to be the most high stake they've been in yet.

"forget news, my friend!" oh dear, gale thought to himself, the anxiety welling to the surface, an expression he can no longer hide.

"what's a true soul like yourself out here, standing guard!" her energy infectious, she rushed the guard and placed an arm around his shoulder like they were life long buddies. "you should be inside, given the respect you deserve, the respect we both deserve." her voice trailed at the end of her sentence, tone shifting from friendly energy to that of authority.

"who better to stand guard than one of us." the guard poked his head a few times. "but you are right! head instead, true soul, z'ell is in the audience chamber. she'll be wanting to speak with you."

releasing the guard from her grasp, she gives him a playful bow as she walks backwards, shifting her gaze to her wizard companions, a look of pride and success, inviting them to follow her.

"not how i would have handled it," gale spoke low so only the troupe could hear his words, "but you did well, afhiri. i am impressed." his voice is genuine, a smile on his lips.

@silksworn