two paladins sharing a moment of comfort in their tent before continuing on the treacherous journey to baldurās gate. (ulvira belongs to me; frostbane belongs to @chaoticsnape )
There are very few moments in which a paladin is granted peace.
When one swears an oath, they do so with an understanding that this is their new purpose. A paladin swears to spend their life fighting for the sake of their ideals, even if it means losing themselves in the process. Paladins of vengeance, like Frostbane and Ulvira, set out to right the wrongs in the world, no matter what happens to themselves to achieve this. It is a heavy burden. One that the two of them had trained for years to bear.
In the dim light of Frostbaneās tent, however, that burden almost feels nonexistent. Ulviraās light cantrip illuminates the tent, casting a soft, blue light across the two of them. For just a little while, the two paladins may experience a peace that they have earned.
āDoes it hurt?ā Frostbane asks, his voice hushed in the quiet air. His claws rake through Ulviraās dark blue locks, silken in his graspāheād learned, by then, how to be careful with his more fragile friend. He never stopped worrying anyway. āAm I being too rough?āā
āNot at all, mirshann,ā Ulvira answers, his voice lilted with relaxation. āIt feelsā¦ wonderful. You always do.ā
Frostbane smiles to himself. Ulvira was seated comfortably on his knees in front of the dragonborn, his head bowed and his back turned; part of Frostbane acknowledges how vulnerable of a position this is, but Ulvira doesnāt seem as tense as he so often is. He never was, when it was just the two of them together. There is an unspoken agreement between them. You are safe with me.
Ulvira lets out a low hum as Frostbaneās tail wraps around his waist. His hands come up to rest across it, idly tracing the pattern of the scales with his fingertips. He takes the hint and moves himself back, closing some of the distance between them, sharing his warmth with his closest friend.
āIs this better?ā the Drow asks. Frostbane responds with a grumble of approval, resuming the careful braiding of Ulviraās hair once heās situated.
For a long while, the two of them sit in a comfortable, familiar silence. Ulvira liked to hum to fill the quiet, usually, but tonight, he finds himself too wornāor too comfortableāto try. His eyes flutter closed as the dragonborn works the tresses.
Frostbane marvels in that silence, though he would never voice it. Ulvira was more fragile than he would care to admit, and Frostbane had learned that the hard way, more than once. The thought that he would still submit himself to the same claws that created many of the little scars strewn across his skin never quite settled in the dragonās mind, but who is he to complain? Ulviraās trust is a gift, and Frostbane cherished every gift Ulvira gave him.
So Frostbane takes the task of filling that quiet for them, instead, giving Ulvira an unspoken gift of his own. It starts as a low rumble in his chest, and Ulviraās eyes open at the sound, mildly startledāhe almost turns back to ask if heās alright, but before he gets the chance, the rumbles begin to form a deep melody.
Frostbane recalls the days when this melody would ring through the mountains, throughout the clan of dragons that occupied the peaks. Shimmering scales, war paint, eyes glimmering with the spirit of battleāthis, they knew, was what they had been hatched for. Every day and night of training all lead up to the same fate of seeing victory over their enemies, or dying in the glorious pursuit. A warrior ought to face death with his weapon in hand.
Ulvira listens, his fingers stilling in their trail across the spines of Frostbaneās tail. There is power in the notes that trill from the dragonās throat, and yet, an underlying sense of resignation. An acceptance of the fate that the clan had bound themselves to, in the pursuit of honor. He doesnāt realize the song has ended until Frostbane speaks, as quietly as he had hummed the melody.
āThis is what they used to sing when they shined their scales before battle,ā he murmurs. āOr so my father said.ā
Ulvira lets his head fall back against Frostbaneās chest, peering up at his friend with a look of understanding. He felt the intention behind the notes, even if he couldnāt place it himself.
āItās a strange song to sing before battle,ā Ulvira responds, his voice just as soft. āYour voice makes it sound like a lullaby.ā He knows heās biased; where others heard a gruff, growling voice laced with sarcasm, Ulvira was granted the pleasure of seeing a softer side of the dragonborn.
āItās made to comfort the young so they donāt panic. The older ones know whatās coming, though.ā
Just like that, Ulvira is reminded of the suffocating burden that Frostbane has been under for the whole of his life. He doesnāt notice the way he tenses in Frostbaneās hold, the way his hands grip gently onto the dragonās tail, as if he hoped that small grasp would protect him from the battle he is always so prepared to throw himself into, He doesnāt notice, but Frostbane does. His tail curls around Ulvira a little tighter in response.
āWhatās wrong?ā
āStop for a minute.ā
Ulvira blurts out his reply, and Frostbane canāt help but oblige. He releases the Drowās hair, and Ulvira reaches back to grasp his hand before he pulls away, guiding it in front of him.
Before Frostbane can question him, Ulvira guides his scaled hand to his chest, letting it sprawl across his heart. He settles himself back against the dragon completely, holding Frostbaneās hand to his heartbeat with the silent hope that it might solidify what he says next.
ā...youāre safe with me, right now,ā the Drow tells him in a hush. āThere are no more battles for you to fight. Not right now. Itās only us.ā
When it finally clicks into place in Frostbaneās mind, he realizes all too late how affected Ulvira was by the customs of his clan. To him, it had the same weight as Ulvira telling him about him and his sister roughhousing, or his mother teaching him healing spells. Was Frostbaneās family so shocking in turn? Ulvira may not have been born for the sole purpose of battle, but Frostbane knew he himself was. Naturally, their lives would differ, wouldnāt they?
Yet, to Ulvira, Frostbaneās nonchalance when it comes to death is terrifying. One day, he fears, he will watch Frostbane leave for battle, and feel a sudden, agonizing severance when he is gone. Onc day, he will find a gaping hole in his heart where Frostbane was meant to live forever. And if Frostbane didnāt see how wrong his clan had been to deprive him of a life outside of his oath, Ulvira would be forced to face that terrifying reality much sooner than he thinks heās ready for. He holds onto the dragonbornās arm a little tighter.
āForgive me,ā he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. He silently curses himself before continuing. āI didnāt mean to interrupt. I justā¦ wanted you to know. I wouldnāt let anything get to you, maelthra. Iāve got you. You know that?ā
Frostbane feels Ulviraās heart thrumming under his palm. Sometimes it felt like a bird trying to escape its cage, trying to leap right into Frostbaneās clawsāthough Frostbane was shadowed by the worry that heād be too rough with something so delicate. Ulvira was so breakable, but so safe in Frostbaneās arms; and here he was, offering the same safety in return. āI know,ā he murmurs in reply. āI know.ā
Frostbane lowers his head to rest on top of Ulviraās. The Drow leans up into the contact with a sound thatās a mix between a sigh and a whimper, his free hand rising to rest against the dragonās snout. His fingertips always felt so warm against Frostbaneās scales.
āYou have such a beautiful voice,ā Ulvira says, a weak attempt at drawing the topic back to something lighter. He feels Frostbane let out a soft huff of a chuckle, and he lets himself smile again, comforted by the sound. āYou do. Donāt be bashful about it.ā
āShut up,ā mumbles Frostbane, moving his head to nuzzle into Ulviraās neck. He uses his snout to lightly push the Drowās head forward so he can continue braiding his hair, but not before giving him a squeeze with his tail to affirm the grip. āLet me work.ā
And Ulvira does. He goes quiet, leaning forward to let Frostbane complete the braid, but thereās a difference in the way the dragon works. He can sense the added care, the consciousness of Frostbaneās tailās grip around his waist, the gentle way he pulls a tuft of hair behind Ulviraās ear as it flutters against his touch. Frostbane treats him like something precious, and when he looks in the small mirror in the corner of the tent, Ulviraās eyes are more focused on the man behind him than himself.
āBeautiful,ā Ulvira whispers, smiling at their reflection as he lays back. Frostbaneās arms surround him, just as they always do, and the Drow fits against his beloved abbil with the ease of a sword and its sheath.
There were no battles awaiting them that night. And for that night alone, Frostbane and Ulvira could allow themselves a moment of peace.
Can't sleep, and it's 01:30 on 1st or June so might as well post this now. Planned back in my bg3 phase and managed to actually finish it as well. No way!!!
After a lot of testing and a healthy dose of stress, the party are readying for one last adventure to mark the end of an era.
But something feels differentā¦
Patch 8 is now live on PC, Mac, PS5, and Xbox!
š® Cross-Play
š 12 Subclasses
š· Photo Mode
š„ Xbox Series S Split Screen
š ļø Modding Toolkit Update
š Bug Fixes & Improvements
Looking for the full patch notes?
Read them here: larian.club/Patch8
Intro post for a blog dedicated to a Minecraft oc of mine, based off of, you guessed it!! The Pale Garden!!!
(everything under the cut)
This is an oc ask/lore dumping blog, mainly stuff so I don't get too disorganized with all my things for this critter.
This character is named Koren, a wooden doll type character out in the woods. She's entirely on her own, and has been for about as long as she can remember.
But skipping some vital information, lore, a heart that's not hers, a strange connection to the sun and an axe, this is set after she's found by another oc of mine, named Bryer.
Bryer is essentially Korens caretaker/gaurdian, despite the fact Bryer herself is only 21, she's making do with raising the weird ass kid she found out in the woods one day.
Bryer won't have as much of a vital role in this, more so just the person "running the blog", so every post after this will be in one or the others perspective.
General rundown for lore below!!
Koren is in no way related to The Creaking, instead being the one who's currently keeping it's heart as her own, The Creaking has tormented Koren since she's been in the garden. So for a long ass time, poor kid.
Koren doesn't actually know she's not human, nor the fact her heart isn't hers, but she gets a feeling somethings wrong. Wether it's the scratching against her cabins windows, or the pair of eyes watching her at night. Probably nothing too serious!!
Quick thing before I move on, the face you see down below (if I remember to put the pic of her), isn't an actual "face". Koren is currently wearing a mask. What's under it could be funky!!
(Now, because I don't wanna spoil absolute EVERYTHING, I won't be rambling too much on here! All in all, Koren is an anxious mess of a kid that's just trying her best. And she's almost completely blind, forgot to mention that.)
Rules for asks!
Don't be freaky, host is a minor and so is the oc!
Any questions with mentions of real world events (other than jokes like "what's Koren think of the hawk tuah Bitcoin scandal") are not allowed!
Please don't use the art you see as your own, you're completely free to draw the character if you'd like! (encouraged I love this creature more than the sun)
No political stuff, homophobia, racism, transphobia, all that bad stuff isn't allowed!! Safe space for LGBTQ and others alike!
Some things might take a bit longer, if they do I am terribly sorry! Sometimes motivation fails me, but I'll try to get things done!!
Yap fest over
Nowwww finally! A picture of the gal below, Koren Forelore!! (Which is also my pfp!!)
Bonus of Bryer for reference!! (Koren makes my style different ignore that)
Stopping by the Society of Brilliance after killing Cazador
Tav: Hey guys, I thought I'd let you know - we've just released 7,000 vampire spawn into the underdark. So uh. Good luck with that abundant ecosystem š
Blurg and Omeluum:
coleās autism blast @light-in-the-underdark - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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gummygunk
prguitarman
baratheonpilled
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