BitsnPieces, Headcanons, and Blurbs

[judasrpc]

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

What’s the lie your character says most often?

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

When do they fake a smile? How often?

How do they put out a candle?

What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?

Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?

How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?

What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?

If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?

How do they greet someone they like / love?

What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?

What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?

What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?

Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there?

How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?

Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?

What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?

What’s a phrase they say a lot?

Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Who would / do they believe without question?

What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

[offurandfeathers]

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS PART 1

What’s the lie your character says most often? “I am alright.”

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’? Quite loosely. Not everyone is his friend, but being one is not some grand accomplishment in itself either.

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing? The man is an open book. He can’t keep a poker face; never mind hiding his emotions.

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss? Teaching the young ones back at the Grove.

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen? No. He’s a bad actor. Closest thing to make him cry on demand is having him stub his pinky toe.

What’s their favorite smut author that they’ve never recommended to anyone before? Why, Anne Rice!

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? ….Not anything that I would yell in public. What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell? Romantic partner would definitely yell “Cub!”

How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’? Rarely. He lets his love interest know with his actions.

Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive? With friends ? Definitely tough love. With his mate, a bit of both.

What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity? Anything about wild life, to be honest. The man is an encyclopedia!

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference? Watch his table manners. Because he has none.

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific! Playing with children brings him peace. Roughhousing never fails to make him laugh.

When do they fake a smile? How often? Not often. Only when he doesn’t want the others worry about him. Often paired with Question 1.

How do they put out a candle? Will blow it out.

What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone? His focus level. At work or in battle, he is a monster of focus, never straying from his path, always on the lookout for a detail or an unforeseen danger. With friends, he allows himself to relax, sometimes his mind drifts away, but not too far. When he’s alone, he can spend hours upon hours just lazing in the sun or bathing in a cold river, curiously following every little sound or movement that catches his attention.

What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head? Necromancers. They bring back the dead, they alter the natural order of things, destroys the balance. It goes against his beliefs, against Silvanus’ teachings.

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them? His eyes are automatically drawn to the tattoo that adorns the right side of his face. He doesn’t hate it anymore, but he doesn’t like it either. He’s come to accept that it is now a part of him, much like his scars. (Related to a headcanon of mine); most people will notice how tall and big he is for an elf.

Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)? His parents. May they rest in peace under the Grandfather Tree.

What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding? Keep to himself. He’s not really one for confrontation, unless warranted.

Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person? Oh, really good question. I don’t have an answer for that.

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it? WEARING CLOTHES. So constraining. Urgh.

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character? Cliff jumping. Rock climbing. Anything that would be considered “extreme sports” by modern standards. Why risk your life?!

What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember? Accidentally kicking Scratch while walking in camp. Poor pup :(

Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it ? Honey !

Part 2

[offurandfeathers]

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS PART 2

What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot? Botanics.

How would they respond to being fired by a good boss? Understand and accept without a word, then wonder what he could have done differently.

What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond? I don't have an answer for that.

What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want? To be unburdened. To be free.

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them? He'll try to convince them. For a short while. Then he'll drop the topic. People are free to believe what they want.

When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional? If it affects someone he deeply cares for, the guilt will be unbearable.

When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it? When he unintentionally hurts someone he cares for.

If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why? Streaking.

How do they greet someone they dislike / hate? Dislike: A curt nod. Hate: Doesn't acknowledge at all.

How do they greet someone they like / love? Friend: Forearm clasp Close friend: Hug Lover/partner: Warm hug and tender kiss

What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made? Hunt wolves to allow deer population to grow

Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent? No one.

What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell? That he would like to be caried to bed when he's tired, for once.

What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why? Sketching. He often does during his research, to document. But whenever someone is looking, he becomes overly aware and most of the time the drawings look nothing like the subject does in reality.

Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there? Excluded. Halsin is all about honesty and being genune.

How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head? Handshakes? Forearm clasps are the way to go.

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else? Forearm clasps. He picked it up in the Grove centuries ago.

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be? Topic: The importance of foreplay for the well-being of the couple Title: Honeyed words and sweeter things

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding? Not really misunderstanding, but he has spent so much time away from civilization that a lot of societal norms are lost on him.

What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why? Easiest? I'm not so sure. But Githyanki sounds interesting.

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately? Good question.

Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen? He's a bit of both, honestly. He'll mostly listen, but offer council when necessary/requested. He's that kind of friend that doesn't say much but enjoys themself all the same.

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well? Probably some Drow slaves in Menzoberranzan.

Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do? Silvanus. And probably his thiramin, if he ever find his.

Would they eat something they find gross to be polite? "One should cherish all of nature's bounty."

What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with? I'd have to think about it _really_ hard.

What’s a phrase they say a lot? "Silvanus preserve you".

Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting? Wait. He's sometimes too patient for his own good.

Who would / do they believe without question? Silvanus.

What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation? Fight. Especially if there's someone to protect.

What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate? Leading. Archdruid as he might be, he's not comfortable being the one people turn to for every minor issue.

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear? Close friends. Always.

What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often? Cooking. He usually eats raw meat (Wildshaped) or foraged fruits and berries. He burns food, cuts himself with knives. He's just a menace in a kitchen.

How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme? Reading, writing, sketching, whittling. His hobbies are for his enjoyment, part of his much-needed alone time.

Part 1

[galedekarios]

reading more about waterdeep and waterdhavians explains so much about gale:

class & station

Instead of the fragmenting and distinct splits based on income or birth, Waterdeep has nullified such differences almost entirely. "Social level" and "class" are far less important in Waterdeep than in other cities of the Realms (and elsewhere) any prejudices against folk due to race, creed, or coin are brought in by visitors from outside the walls, and are not tolerated to a large extent. The crossroads nature of the city and the up-and-down fortunes of those who make their living in trade keeps the inhabitants of the city tolerant of a wide variety of peoples, with widely varying customs, religions, and incomes. [...] In Waterdeep, low birth or station is not a recipe for rudeness from one's betters, beyond what one's actions would earn from one's equals in any case—if you are ridiculed in Waterdeep, you brought such treatment upon yourself!

character & temperament

"Live and let live" best describes most Waterdhavians' attitudes; everyone is far too busy in the pursuit of wealth and happiness. [...] The cosmopolitan nature of the City of Splendors makes its natives very tolerant. They tend to be talkative, friendly, easygoing, and outspoken, but do not expect others to be. [...] Natives of the City of Splendors are notoriously slow to take offense. A Waterdhavian will plainly state his or her feelings as a warning before showing anger. One is more apt to hear "I don't find that amusing, friend," said pleasantly to a stranger before an angry voice is raised. Some visitors misinterpret such behavior as cowardice or ignorance ("he was too stupid to know I insulted him!"); if they act on such misjudgments, however, surprise and regret are the usual results. 

other races

Most Waterdhavians are slow to take fright unless facing magic or monsters. Beings of almost all races may be seen in the city, too. A typical Waterdhavian would react with hostility and fear only to a drow, an illithid, nonhuman natives of the Lower Planes, and, of course, "monsters" such as beholders and dragons; with all others, it's generally "business as usual." [...]

smalltalk

Waterdhavians do not discuss the weather, unless in a profession governed by it like farmers or sailors. Small talk and idle chatter normally centers on matters of commerce, and secondarily on warfare elsewhere in the Realms. Waterdhavians take a sporting interest in such happenings as the constant minor strife in the South, the recurring unrest and bloodshed in Tethyr, and traditional and long standing shipping discord between Ruathym and Luskan. [...]

[addigni]

Reblog if you genuinely support asexuals

It terrifies me that there’s so much raging passion in the lgbt+ community that insist on marginalizing asexuals and implying that asexuals don’t deserve to have safe spaces. There’s still so much acephobia so I just wanna know which blogs are genuinely supportive and a safe space for asexuals

[friberchi]

*gently holds* 🤲

[lovely-v]

Every time Sean Astin makes a statement on whether or not Sam and Frodo were indeed gay for each other in lord of the rings he’s always like “well we have to acknowledge that attitudes around sexuality have changed dramatically over the past several decades and since authorial intent is only up to speculation, the story is open to multiple readings, some of which might have different significances for different groups of people also they kiss on the lips because I said so”

[busket]

at the rose city comic con panel this month a fan asked them (sean and elijah) if sam and frodo were in love and they said

Sean: .....yes. absolutely

Elijah: 100 percent.

Sean: dont tell rosie

[explorerrowan]

Rosie: "This is my husband Sam, and that's his husband, Frodo. Frodo is my husband-in-law. I'm not into him, he's he's a bit too 'elfy' for my taste, but Sam likes him, and that's fine with me. As far as I know, Frodo can't give Sam children, but Frodo looks after ours all the same, so I don't mind sharing Sam if it means another pair of eyes on the wee ones. In all honesty, our family tree is right simple compared to some hobbits. Yes, I'm referrin' to you Lobelia, over there pretendin' you ain't eavesdroppin'. Still bitter you ain't got either of my boys or their house, eh?"

[arcaniumagi2]

[ms-katonic-of-tamriel]

Tbh it's canon that Frodo invited Sam and Rosie to move in to Bag End after their wedding and they all lived there for a couple of years until Frodo went to Valinor, so yeah. Running with it.

And once Rosie dies, Sam says his goodbyes and disappears after him.

[roach-works]

what’s funny is people assuming that rosie would somehow be too dim or naive to KNOW that sam loved frodo, instead of looking at a guy who would loyally follow a beloved friend to hell and then help carry him home again, and not be like ‘oh i can’t not fuck that.’

[elodieunderglass]

Polyamory, specifically polyandry, would be an interesting solution to the oddball population of the Shire.

The Shire is excellent farming country, with consistently good weather, and only one tough winter in living memory; hobbits like to produce large families; they’re resistant to disease, rarely violent, and encounter few dangers. It is usual for hobbits to produce many children, so that (for example) Bilbo and Frodo are unusual in both being only children, with no siblings, and not having children of their own. All of this should point to a population that increases every generation if not doubling outright. Young people (and their ideologies!) should rapidly outnumber the old with an ever-increasing effect and impact on society. However, the Shire has a surprisingly stable history; it never seems to increase or decrease greatly in population, and the bell curve of age seems… demographically balanced? There certainly isn’t a conflict from rising young bloods challenging the middle-aged reactionaries; there’s no unemployment; there are no housing crises or waves of emigration, or even a tendency for young people leaving home to marry. Meanwhile, not only does the Shire not suffer from internal pressures, but it remains obscure and hardly noticed in global politics.

What makes sense here is that adult hobbits form a loose group. Four parents in a polycule, between them all, may produce four children. All four parents claim to have four children. An outsider would assume this meant the adults had eight children.

Hobbits therefore are not especially fertile or fecund. They simply have large families. Much of their interest in genealogy is due to the complex relationships of blood-kin, hearth-kin, love-kin and pledge-kin, who must all be carefully tracked and measured - not just because you need to make sure that you don’t climb into bed with an un-permitted degree of blood-kin, but to track family alliances and carefully quantify the precise level of thoughtfulness to put into the proper present to gift your father’s lover’s lover (too much implies a degree of intimacy that might upset the polycule.)

Thus, while a hobbit matron may tell a startled dwarf that she has seven sons, she might only have borne five of them herself, and have one hearth-son by her wife, and a pledge-son of her first husband’s. There are between three and four fathers involved at various stages of production, from conception to pledge-duty, but there is debate about the precise number of fathers, as one child was festival-conceived and therefore provisionally pledged to the Brandybucks until more distinctive paternal traits should materialise. It’s expected that four of the sons will be uninterested in women, and their contribution to family life will be in raising hearth-children and pledge-duty. However, this level of detail is normally negotiated later in conversation, as a mutual overture of friendship. So she’s just clear and simple: yes, certainly, she has seven sons. Yes, they’re all hers. Yes, that’s fairly normal - yes, hobbits like big families. How big? That’s really hard to say! Well, about thirteen hobbits live in her house… er, she has forty-three nieces and nephews. Yes! She has nine siblings, that’s correct, but some of them are still babies themselves..

In this way, a bewildered dwarf might assume that hobbits are absurdly fertile, producing an average of seven children per couple, at an absurd pace.

When in fact, with about half of hobbits never bearing biological children, the population of hobbits is pretty much always the same.

Tl:dr, hobbit population works perfectly well, both internally and in the perceptions of outsiders, if the majority of the Shire is gay, they’re all polyamorous, and they all firmly claim to be parents of high numbers of children. Of course Frodo fathered Sam’s kids - he named them! They were pledge-kin but not hearth-kin, as Frodo needed a lot of quiet and stability in the home.

No outsider ever parses hobbit genealogy well enough to understand this except for Gandalf, who never explains anything either.

[dancingspirals]

are you kidding? Gandalf would WEAPONIZE his knowledge of Hobbit genealogy against outsiders

[elodieunderglass]

Since “pledge” kinships are multidimensional and can occur in different directions, hobbits can form - and formalise - family bonds simply because they choose to. Gandalf doesn’t tell anyone that the formation of Thorin’s Company, the Fellowship of the Ring, and Belladonna Took’s Accidental Troop of Mercenaries* are legal formations of pledge-siblings, a hobbit family structure usually claimed to increase social class and prestige (as high numbers of pledge-kin confer distinction on a hobbit, being a sort of popularity vote/endorsement that adds greatly to their social power. Incidentally, this is partly why Bilbo was both controversial and successful in his pledge-claim of Frodo; outsiders mistook his “bachelor” status as someone living outside of heteronormativity, while the Shire was bewildered and increasingly annoyed by his rejection of pledge and hearth commitments. By rights Bilbo had too few pledge-kin, and too little parenting experience, to claim rights to an orphan, especially one from Brandybuck hearth; but conversely, his social status was high enough that his belated bid for his very first pledge-son couldn’t reasonably be denied by anybody.)

In short, all of the hobbits enjoyed achieving even larger families on their adventures, legally and without argument or debate. It’s free real estate. If nobody else is going to sibling these losers, we will. (The condensation of so many entanglements at once also legally made Pippin his own father-in-law.)

Gandalf never explained.

* see the post about the Old Took’s “enchanted diamond cufflinks” that obeyed the wearer’s commands; which were probably, given the general state of things, two lost silmarils recovered by his Remarkable Daughters and gifted to him because things stay small and safe in the shire

[chaosaccountant]

@elodieunderglass wouldn't that make pippin both denethor's pledge-son-in-law, and (as pledge-brother to the king) probably outrank him?

[elodieunderglass]

Only through Boromir while Boromir was alive! Pippin’s familial claim through Boromir technically dissolved on Boromir’s death, as Denethor hadn’t been privy to it, and those bonds rarely stretch to a stranger when the person in the middle has died before introducing them; although Pippin, who was well-brought-up, perfectly and politely rectified the problem at once by simply swearing himself as Denethor’s pledge-son. but through his blood-cousinship to Frodo, who was older than Boromir, his status as the Took double-primarc (don’t ask) and the proximity-enhanced status-doubling effects of having a five-way cousin in Merry, Pippin was demonstrably higher status as a pledge-sibling and was also his own father-in-law and approved of himself. As such, he would have significantly raised Boromir’s social status and marital prospects in the Shire.

Inheritance follows parent-child pledge as the primary consideration, with matrilineal descent as the secondary. Pippin would have been bewildered to gradually understand that Denethor held his two sons in such odd and different standing :-/ hobbits don’t recognise kingship so it would’ve been very upsetting and disappointing to Pippin to understand how Denethor stood in position of sworn-father to a whole city of people without even being slightly fair to his younger hearth-son. Aragorn is demonstrably much better dad-material and therefore had Pippin’s vote. Pippin, by virtue of being an excellent father-in-law to a spectacularly promising young son-in-law, also considered himself a better candidate for king of Gondor than Denethor, by outranking him in Dad Competence - but was too busy by the time he realized this to point this out .

Ironically, the events in which Pippin realized this made Faramir his own hearth-son - so Pippin won in the end and took a great interest in ceremonially approving of Eowyn. Gandalf never explained

[elodieunderglass]

[hotnerdywizard-deactivated20240]

Imagine

Imagine being born with sheer, raw talent.

Imagine mastering incredibly complex spells when you’re still a very young child. A child prodigy, they call you. You don’t know what it means, and yet you know it sets you apart. It makes you special.

Imagine being so talented that you attract the attention of the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine her sending one of her chosen to check up on you. Imagine the love and pride shining in your mother’s eyes. You know it must be a good thing then.

Imagine devoting your life to learning, practicing, finessing your skills while your friends are out playing, being children, being free. You’re destined for greatness, you hear people say. You start to believe them.

Imagine your efforts finally paying off when the Goddess of Magic makes you her chosen. Imagine her taking you away from your family, giving you a new home, nurturing your talent. If you feel homesick, you hide it well. Those people were right, after all. You are destined for greatness.

Imagine your powers growing beyond what you even thought imaginable, making you one of the most talented wizards of your generation.

Imagine taking all the soft parts of you, the flaws that make you warm and human and oh so perfect, and hiding them under a mask of your own creation. They must be buried, for who would love the man behind the magic?

Imagine the Goddess of Magic sharing her bed with you, making you her lover. She praises you for the skilful, elaborate illusions you conjure for her and you’re sure you’ll never experience love like this again.

Imagine achieving everything you once could only dream of. Imagine it not being enough.

Imagine wanting more. Imagine asking, pleading, begging for equality. Imagine being denied.

Imagine believing that you’re the one at fault, that you must do more, be more. For how can a goddess love a man?

Imagine obsessing, searching endlessly for that elusive little something that will make her love you more. You are only an archmage, after all. You must be a god.

Imagine darkness consuming you, feasting on you, stripping away all the powers that you have spent years accumulating - everything that makes you who you are.

Imagine being cast out. You are not a god, you’re not an archmage. You are just a man, and she has no use for you.

Imagine shutting yourself away, your hunger consuming you, your pain unbearable, your shame unsurvivable. How the mighty have fallen.

Imagine going away, once again leaving behind the only family you have left, knowing you’ll never see them again. You’re doing this to protect them, knowing you are going to die.

Imagine fate upsetting your plans, only to make you part of a bigger one. Imagine finding someone who makes your heart beat faster again. But you don’t dare to hope, for what hope can there be for you?

Imagine your goddess sending one of your oldest friends to tell you that your only redemption lies in sacrificing yourself. You want to live, and yet you are willing to serve your purpose, for what can a man ultimately do but die?

Imagine being wrong.

[tragedies-keep-me-afloat-deacti]

Oh, Halsin, sweet, sweet Halsin. You used to be an older sibling in another life if not for Thaniel, didn't you?

Halsins is yet another modern tragedy, one you see often. Or rather, you see but fail to notice.

Halsin is a wood elf, wood elves are known to become druids, known for neither hating nor loving humans, simply because they're too busy protecting nature and their own, yet still not looking fondly on the hate their high and proud siblings felt for those short lived mortals. They have settlements, but hidden far away. They have leaders, but its the council of elders. They're loved by their high elven brothers and sisters, but they also can not stop to worry about their foresty friends. Wood elves are calm, big, warm, and good-natured. Protective. They're loyal to a fault.

Halsin is all of this. He is the one person who will simply wait for you at camp without remarks. He will be there when you need him. He will fight for his own, mourn for his own. Sacrifice himself for his own.

This man carries the burdens of lifetimes on his broad shoulders, but they're still too heavy.

He's the man who will choose to forgive his captors, but not those who harmed his grove, his kin.

He's the man who will endanger himself for his old friend.

He's the man who internalised his pain, his rage, his hatred. No one would judge him for hating the drow that captured him, the people that cursed the lands. No one would judge him for not becoming an arch druid after just witnessing his old master die. No one, but him.

Instead of hating his abusers, he chose to blame himself. He chose to forgive his misguided brothers and sisters. Instead of resenting Thorm, he chose to blame himself for failing Thaniel, chose to save him even if it could very well mean his own death. Instead of hating the sole fact that he was forced to become arch druid, he chose to blame himself for not being better, not being prepared as a leader.

Halsin will forgive anyone that harms him, its fine if they hurt him. He's alright with it. He can take it. He's big. He can radiate that warmth to balance out the coldness.

But never will he forgive someone that hurts his kin. He will hunt them down and can not be persuaded otherwise.

He will bear all the pain, all the suffering. Its alright, he will protect them. He can carry it for them.

He's a wood elf, the ones who forgave humans for dooming and harming their empire. Instead, they blamed themselves for building one to begin with.

And yet he's so insecure, so scared. But he doesn't admit it, not until Tav has decided themselves to be there for him. Lest it clouds their judgement. Lest their choice stems from pity.

How many others have chosen to seek the blame within themselves, bear the pain for another, just to protect those dear to them? How many children have raised their siblings, forgave their mistakes, took a bullet for them, and still loved them all the same?

"I'm both a healer and a harmer. I fix everyone I can, but in the end, I have no strength left to heal myself."

- Quote from a book I never read

For other analyses and all the fun stuff my mind came up with, please check here

[y-rhywbeth2]

...I just found a guide on how a Bhaalspawn can become God of Murder in an old Dragon article! Disclaimer: You might need to kill Bhaal again first for this to work.

"First, [the Bhaalspawn] must bring about the death of a thousand innocents. It can do this through a variety of methods: unleashing a magical plague, using magic to destroy a city with an earthquake, awakening and then controlling an ancient dragon... the possibilities are endless. "Next, it must recover a piece of its father's mortal flesh; either from the body that lies within the Winding Water where Bhaal was killed during the Time of Troubles or else the body left in the Moonshae isles, where Bhaal's avatar was killed by King Tristran of the ffolk. "Finally, he must sit upon the Throne of the Gods and be judged by the overgod Ao. The Throne could be located in any number of inhospitable places: the Starpeaks in the High Forest, in the deepest regions of the Underdark, or somewhere on the Outer Planes." - Dragon #288

-

Other fun stuff in there included the idea that Bhaal was very likely to direct his kids to fuck up Cyric's plans.

There was also a guide to the weird powers they will develop:

-

Warning, having Bhaal as a father may cause you to exhibit two or more of the following side effects:

Addiction to homicide (Refusal to commit homicide will lead to your mind being eaten away until you turn into a ravening, feral animal.)

Your soul going to hell (well, Gehenna) when you're unconscious

Viscous black blood that attracts devils and demons like flies to honey

Poisonous blood! You can coat your weapons with it!

Turning into a divine murder monster

Getting so carried away with bloodlust you try to fight everything. Literally everything in reach, all at once.

Overwhelming homicidal rage when slightly inconvenienced

A steadily weakening sense of free will

Everybody around you immediately dislikes you because you give off Vibes.

A personality so bad it has charisma penalties

Nightmares so traumatic they actually impair your ability to function while awake

Detect evil spells will say you're evil and holy weapons and water will harm you. Even if you're not evil

Being fireproof, for some reason

Super strength

And more!

[caffinedragon]

Bhaal Done Goofed

My Durge's AU:

In an effort to make a Bhaalspawn to finally do his biding without fail, he found what appeared to be a young eldritch being that he killed and used it's essence to make his newest creations "soul" out of. Only, that "young" eldritch being was actually a piece of a greater whole that he woke up from dormancy. Realizing this, he took his newly made creation and hid them away in order to hopefully have time to gaslight and brainwash them into submission.

Only problem with making a kid out of an Eldritch god is that there minds don't work like the common mortal does, and even though they seemed obedient, you could never be too sure whether or not the 'training' took.

Spoiler Alert: It didn't.

And when your Bhaalspawn Eldritch Horror of a son reuntie's with his mother behind your back and finds out what you did well...

Now you have no choice but have your lesser daughter kill him.

Only, he survives, and now is not only far away from your influence but has gotten so in touch with his eldritch side that your power barely works on him.

And now, he coming for you and everything he and his Banite built in your name.

In this moment Bhaal knew, he fucked up.

[storydragonshoard]

You took care of me now, it's my turn.

HalsinxRazzikel(tav)

The VERY rough first draft of the opening chapter to my Halsin/Tav friends to lovers fic featuring my drow ranger tav Razzikel.

Chapter Plot: Call from an old friend right before disaster strikes.

“She got stuck in a tree?” Halsin asked the black obsidian sending stone glowing purple on his desk.

He tried to keep the exhaustion from his voice as he asked it, wanting to hold on to this little bit of peace Razzikel’s calls always gave him.

His old friends' rolling thunder of a voice responded from the other end, the sound soothing some of his frayed nerves.

“Bri didn't get stuck, one of Dritz’s panther’s new cubs did.”

“Ah. Is this the one that likes to follow her around?” He reached over to the cup of tea he had on the table, using a fire cantrip to warm it back up as another headache began to rise behind his eyes.

“Yeah. Looks like the panther cub chose her as their person. Like father, like kid.”

He took a sip, letting the honey sweetened wildflower tea and Razzikel’s familiar growl work its magic, “So, Bri was trying to rescue the cub from the tree then?”

“Yeah. She succeeded in getting a hold of them but then couldn't figure out how to get back down one handed.”

He chuckled, “I see. That can be tricky. Especially for one so young.”

“Exactly. Needless to say, Dritz was freaking out.”

He leaned his head on a hand as he stared off into the middle distance, “I imagine. I remember you telling me what happened to her mother.”

“Doesn't help that she inherited the same wild streak. She reminds me of my ma, actually.”

He laughed, something he hadn't been able to do in a while, “Oh No. I remember those stories you told me of your mother. She is already fighting for your honor, I take it?”

“Gods, I can't tell you how many times I have had to pull my dads old move of throwing her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes just she doesnt try to fight someone ten times her size.”

The belly laugh that roared out of him as he pictured a little half elven girl kicking and screaming in rage on Razzikel’s shoulder could be heard out beyond the doors of his lab.

The laugh attracted Nettie’s attention as she came in with bundles of herbs to be broken down, a soft smile on her face, before she sat them down on a table near by and began gathering the tools for her work.

“So, I assume she was much more successful this morning?”

“Oh yeah. She took my advice of grabbing rope next time and used it to make a harness around the cub. That way she could lower her to the ground and then climb down after. She was pretty proud of herself.”

“As she should be.”

He chuckled through the stone then sighed, “Straj…i can't believe she is already six years old.”

“They grow up fast.”

“They sure do. Thankfully, at the rate she is going, we won't have much to worry about when it’s time for her to leave the nest.”

“With you and Dritz raising her, I am sure she will be a force of nature.”

“She already is.”

Through the stone he heard a door open and the rapid padding of small feet across a dirt floor. The sound was then followed by the voice of an excited little girl.

“Uncle Razz, are you talking to Uncle Halsin?”

His chest tightened at the sound of the title he had no idea he had earned.

“I am.”

“Can I talk to him? Please? I have questions.”

“Let me ask.” He heard him chuckle, “You willing to get your ear talked off, Bear?”

He heard the sound of skin hitting fabric.

“Ow!” 

It was followed by the noise a kid makes when they stick out their tongue, followed by a much deeper version of the same.

He could easily picture Razzikel’s ruggedly handsome dark gray face, violet eyes filled with mischief, as he stuck out his tongue.

The image warmed his chest while at the same time set his heart to aching. It had been over a decade since they had seen each other face to face. Not since before Razzikel’s late husband had passed.

Silvanus have mercy, he missed the man terribly.

But he had a niece now. And she needed him. So he pushed the feelings to the side.

“I am willing if it is alright with you.”

“Let me hand it to her then.” He heard excited squealing from the other end.

“What do I do?” He heard her whisper.

“Just speak into it.”

“Okay.” There was a pause before,“Hi Uncle Halsin. Can you hear me?”

He nearly cried but held himself together.

“I can hear you, little one.”

There was another squeal followed by, “My name is Brionna but you can call me Bri. Uncle Razz has told me a lot of stories about you!”

He couldn't help the wide grin on his face, “Oh he did did he?”

“Yeah! He said you used to do a lot of stuff together and that you rescued him from being stuck as a wolf and that people sometimes make jokes about you liking honey, which is rude, honey is delicious, and that you're a really good healer and that you're a…a…” He heard her whisper again, “What was it called again?”

“What do you mean?” Razzikel whispered back.

“Like a druid but like…more. Like he’s really important… Like a..a.. super druid!”

Oak father preserve him. 

He had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing as he heard Nettie cover an amused snort.

He could hear the barely held snicker in Razzikel's voice as he replied, “You mean an Archdruid?”

“Yeah! That’s it! But what’s the difference?”

“I am a druid who is the leader of a grove of druids.” Halsin supplied.

“Oh! Like a boss!”

He chuckled, “Close enough.”

“So,” she started, “Since you're a Archdruid you know lots about animals and stuff right?”

“I do.”

“Do you know what a manatee is?”

“No, I am afraid not.” He lied. “What are they?” 

He could see Nettie raise an eyebrow out of the corner of his eye.

“Sea Cows!” 

He could sense the info dump on the horizon and settled into his chair with a smile. “Sea cows?”

“Yeah! They are the same size but they have one big fin in the back and two smaller hand fins in front and cute squishy faces and they're all rolly and chubby like a cow and they live in the ocean! But do you know what is special about them?”

“What?”

“They can't be mean!”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because the thing inside people that makes them mean and angry doesn't exist in manatees! They are just sweet and nice all the time and even sharks, the main thing that eats them, doesn't want to because of how nice they are! Isn’t that amazing!”

“That is pretty amazing.”

From across the lab he could see Nettie smiling as she premade some salves they had run out of.

“Also, is it true that you can turn into an animal? Like a cat or…or…a wolf like Uncle Razz?”

“Most druids have this ability, yes.”

“Can you turn into an Owlbear?”

“I can.”

“If we visit, can you turn into one so I can touch your feathers? Uncle Razz says the real one we saw the other day was too dangerous. Especially since she had a cub with her. But she was so pretty and her feathers looked soft and I wanted to touch them so badly but Uncle said she would eat me and I believed him because she was huge!”

He envied Razzikel in this moment, having a child to raise and teach even if it wasn’t his own. 

It reminded him of his own lost chance, consumed by the role that was forced on him out of convenience.

He tried to picture Brionna as Razzikel had described her, an energetic spitfire of a child with curly red hair, pale gray skin and violet eyes running around as kids want to do.

His heart ached, but he pushed it aside. He was needed here.

So instead he took his chance to pretend, even if just for a little while.

“If you, your father, and your uncle are able to make it to the grove it would be an honor to become an owlbear for you.”

“Really really?”

Just before he responded he heard a door open and the sound of larger footsteps than Bri’s but lighter than Razzikels walking across the floor.

“Really really.”

He saw Nettie mouth at him teasingly “softie” and just shook his head.

Bri let out a joy filled squeal just before a slightly higher pitched but velvety male voice spoke.

“What did my daughter just get Master Halsin to agree too?’

He heard Razzikel’s deep rumbling laugh as Bri shouted, “Uncle Halsin is gonna turn into an Owlbear for me when we get to visit him!”

“Oh. All right then.”

“Hello Dritz.” He spoke loud enough to hear.

“Hello, Master Halsin. Has she told you about the Manatee’s yet?”

“She has. It’s her current hyperfixarion i take it?”

“It sure is. Been telling everybody who will listen since she read the book about sea creatures you sent. However…you still have preparations to make kiddo. You and your companion start training today, remember?”

“Oh right! Sorry Uncle Halsin, i have to go. We can't come visit you until my cub and i complete enough training to travel. Faster i can learn, the faster we can visit.”

“I understand.”

“Hope to meet you soon! Love you, bye! Here ya go Uncle Razz.”

The sound of boot steps and small feet retreating across the floor was followed by a door slam and a sigh.

“I give it a month tops and we will be on our way.”

“She learns that quickly?”

“She does. She’s like us.”

“It is a good thing your there for her then.”

“If I hadn't, Dritz would have probably had a heart attack from stress by now.”

“Sounds like things are going well.”

“Yeah. It’s been a good spring. How about you? You doing all right?”

He paused debating whether or not to tell him. A part of him really just wanted to unload everything but a much stronger part of him didn't want to burden him with his problems.

So he decided to go somewhere in a vague middle.

“Just the trials and tribulations of being an Archdruid. The stress of leadership etc.”

“You're a shit liar you know.”

He sighed.

Of course he would notice.

“You don't have to give me all the dirty details, i just…” He heard the slight growl he did when he was frustrated trying to find the right words. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to shoulder your burdens alone. Be honest with me. Are you okay?”

Halsin looked over to where Nettie was cleaning up and watched as she nodded, put a finger to her mouth and then left the room. 

He closed his eyes, turned back towards the sending stone in his hand, took a deep breath and on the exhale spoke a shaky…

“No.”

“Do you want me to come to you? Dritz and I can train Bri as we travel. We can be there in a week, less if we go off road.”

His heart screamed yes, but his mind…

“Don’t rush yourself on my account, wolf. I will manage.”

“Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes.”

“All right. Just…if it changes, Bear, don't hesitate to call. I’ll come running.”

His very soul was screaming for him to change his mind but he suppressed it…barely.

“I know. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

The sound of familiar dwarven feet running in his direction turned his attention towards the door. A few seconds later Nettie came in, clearly having ran to him as she struggled to catch her breath.

“What is it Nettie? Are you all right?”

“Master Halsin, there is a large group of tieflings at the gate seeking sanctuary. They are refugees from Elturel. They got hit by that Gnoll pack that moved in north of the toll station.”

“Silvanus have mercy.” Halsin turned toward the sending stone.

Before he could say anything Razzikel responded, “I heard. Go help them. We can talk later. Keep me posted.”

“I will.”

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”

The moment the crystal dimmed Halsin was up and jogging towards the direction of the gate.

—

“So…because Elturel was dropped into the hells, tieflings, who look kinda like devils even though they're not, got kicked out of their home?” Bri asked as she rode on Razzikel’s shoulders down the streets of Yartar.

“Yeah.” He responded as he dodged a man running with a cart of cabbages across the street.

“But…they were born that way right? They didn't choose to be tieflings. What happened wasn't their fault. Why did the people hate them so much?”

“For the same reason people hate your uncle and I.” Dritz explained, “Even though we are not Loth Sworn drow, we look close enough to them that others still hate us for what they did.”

“So they got kicked out because they happened to look like the bad guys even though they weren't?”

“Unfortunately.” Razzikel answered.

“That’s not fair!”

“No it isn’t.” He agreed, “But It is the nature of people to fear what they don't understand. Fear turns to hate which in turn often leads to death.”

“So if the tieflings would have stayed, they would have died?”

“Yes.” Dritz responded, “If they stayed they would have been wiped out by the city guard with no one to defend them, at least on the road, they would have a fighting chance.”

“I am glad that Uncle Halsin is helping them then. He’s really nice.”

“That he is.” Razzikel sighed.

“A bit too nice, seeing he is an Archdruid.”

“I know, right? Bear’s always had a big heart. Still boggles me how he got the position.”

Suddenly a strange feeling went down his spine.

It felt like when his late husband Crow would teleport somewhere.

He started to look around just as people several blocks away started ro scream, and the loud sound of a bell tower falling ripped through the air.

“Dad, Uncle, what is that?” Bri asked fear in her voice.

When he looked up to where she pointed, his eyes widened in horror.

It was a nautaloid! And it was coming straight for them!

Quickly he pulled Bri off his shoulders and shoved her into Dritz’s arms as the tentaxles of the mindflayer ship.begam whipping down the street they were on.

The two men ran as fast as they could, as the pop, pop, pop of people getting pulled onto the ship reverberated behind them.

He could feel the ship get closer and closer as they ran, knowing that without a side street to get down, they wouldnt be abke to out run it.

Juat as he saw one, a shadow of one of the tentacles began to fall across Dritz’s back.

There was no way for him to didge it while carrying Bri, so Razzikel made a split second decision.

Bri could live without an Uncle, but she needed her dad.

With a prayer of protection to Crow, his late husband turned god, he tossed himself into Dritz, knocking them both into the alley to safety, leaving him directly in the Nautaloid tentacles path.

The last thing he remebered before the tentacle hit his back was Dritz and Bri screaming his name, while a familiar pair of yellow gold eyes appeared in the shadows behind them.

[storydragonshoard]

Name: Razzikel Do’Urden

Age: 310

Body type: 4

Height: 6’2”

Eye color: Dark Amethyst

Hair Color: White

Race In Game: Drow Seladrine

Headcannon Race: Born Lythari Drow

Class: Beast Tamer Ranger/Wildheart Barbarian/Circle of the moon Druid

Sexuality: Demisexual Homoromantic

Gender Identity: Nonbinary

Pronouns: He/Him when asked, otherwise doesn't care.

Neurotype: PDA Autistic. Can read between the lines most of the time just chooses not to.

Personality: Alpha Wolf pack leader nature dad. 80% provide and protect. 20% care and nurture. 100% no fucks to give.

Special abilities: Wolf like Sense of smell, hearing and speed. Dire Wolf only wildshape.

Stats: lvl 1.

Str:12 Dex:16 Con:14 Wis:14 Cha:8 Int:12

Current: Str: Dex: Con: Int: Wis: Cha:

Background:

Mom: Ex Loth sworn youngest of five, unwanted and left alone to defend herself, converted to Seladrine when she met his father. She was A highly skilled ranger that taught him everything he knew and The person who taught him how not to give a fuck and stand up for himself. Even if it was to her.

Dad: Lythari elf druid built like an oak tree, is the reason he is 6’2” and is as kind and compassionate as he is protective. His father is the main reason he can see through the mask others put up but also has the wisdom to know that most do it to keep themselves safe over any malicious intent.

Relationship with parents: Very close, loving, open and honest. Cared more about him being alive, healthy and happy/content than any perceived plan for his life. So long as he didnt grow up to be a dick, they cared less about what he wanted to do with the time the gods gave him.

Backstory:

Razzikel grew up loved and supported with parents who worked around him and with him instead of against. His curiosity was always encouraged, within reason, and his autonomy never questioned.

A parenting style that built a man who knew who he was, what he wanted and how much energy he was willing to spend to adhere to “civilized societies” made up rules.

It came as no surprise to anyone that once he was introduced to the wider world and “civilization” that he vehemently prefered the woods and wild places over cities and towns.

He easily and eagerly followed in the footsteps of his mother, joining her in the ranks of Melikke’s chosen, happily content to spend his long life in service with her side by side.

For 130 years he did just that, explorong both above ground and below, making and losong friends and occasional lovers as he outlived those with shorter lifespans, hinting down those the Mother of Rangers needed removing, and jist general living his best life in the wilds of Fae Rune.

Until, in his 150th year of life, his mother’s past came back to haunt them.

His Aunt, in an attempt to make sure that she was the only one to takw over the noble house his mother once belonged too, amushed them.

Evwn though the attempt failed, he and his parents knew that their wounds would only slow him down and sacrificed themselves so he could take into his wolf form and escape.

The grief and fear of the loss traps him in his wolf form for 15 years, his conciousness only rising to the surface in short bursts as he wanders aimlessly, seeking a safe place to rest.

When he finally comes back, all he remembers is the snap of metal as agony rips through his leg, the sound of a soothing and rumbling voice, the feel of gentle calloused hands, the scent of herbs and earth, and a pair of hazel eyes.

He wakes up stark naked on a large stone slab in the middle of a druids grove, causing a bit of a stir that is quickly quelled by his rescuer, a large druid named Halsin and the grove’s Archdruid.

With Halsin’s help, he was able to learn to be a person again, find peace in grieving, and pick up not a few new skills to enhance his abilities as a Ranger.

For ten years he called that grove home, using his skills to keep the place supplied and protected, expanded his knowledge of the wilds as well as himself and found in Halsin a profound and deep friendship he thought he would never have been able to find.

But, eventually, as with all rangers, the call to wander eventually came and he heeded it without question.

For the next 50 years he wandered the wilds of Fae Run as Melikki’s chosen like his mother before him. Hunting, guiding, and exploring as he willed, using his raven to send letters and drawings back to the grove of the places he had been and the things he was doing.

And anytime his travels put him in the area of the grove, he always swung by to rest in one of the few places he called home.

Halsin always waiting there to greet him at the gate with a bear hug and a bowl of stew.

At least Until moonrise fell.

In the chaos they were seperated, both men fleeing in opposite directions, the shadow curse cutting them off on opposite sides.

With no way of knowing if Halsin got out alive or if he was trapped in there, he spent 50 years trying to get through without sucess.

Knowing he was out of his depth he went looking for someone to help him that could better understand what happened.

That’s where he met the beaitiful and engnimatic tiefling known as Crow, a great old one willingly locked in the body of a mortal in order to learn the experience of mortal life, with acess to knowledge far beyond most understanding.

In exchange for helping answering his questions and showing him aspects of mortal life he was curious about, Crow agreed to help him find evidence of Halsin’s survival.

Falling in love hadn’t been part of the equation but…it was what it was.

Thankfully together they were able to find out he had yet lived and with use of Razzikel’s ranger skills was able to track down the approximate location of the new grove, sending his raven out to send a long awaited message.

They met near the old temple of Selune, both men wrapping each other in a long awaited embrace before catching up.

Over the next 40 years Razzikel and Crow would do as much as they could to help Halsins research and visit once every few years when they could.

But, when the inevitable came, and Cain’s mortal life came to its end, the grief of the loss hit Razzikel harder than ever.

Not wanting to place another burden onto Halsin’s already heavy shoulders he began wandering again.

He wandered for 4 years, ending up far to tje north near Murkwood where, through a hillariously annoying srt of cirmcumstances, met the one and only Dritz Do’Urden and his new born child Brionna.

The two men bonded over the mistaken identity that led to thier meeting and theor life’s as rangers and in each other found family they hadn't had in a long time.

The next six years Razzikel lived with them, enjoying being an uncle and an elder brother, while restarting to reconnect with Halsin through messages once again.

But, as seems to be his luck, fate just…wouldn't leave him in peace.

As the nautiloid screamed acrosd the sky, he tossed his niece into the waoting arms of her father as the tentacle came down.

He knew they would get away, even if he didn’t.

Before the tentacle hit his back, he prayed to the four gods that had guided him all his life,

“Let them be safe and let my death be quick.”

[storydragonshoard]

Durge Headcannon Notes

Durge Backstory: Bhaal fucked up and stole the metaphysical essence thay is an Eldritch God spawn to make his kid. But instead unintentionally makes his competition.

My Durge pre Tadpole: Wants to be the Only survivor so he can become the new god of death.

My durge after tadpole: Just wants to be a wandering weirdo living his best life along side the love if his life, doing whatever they feel like and causing some mischief and shennanigans along the way.

Then eventually becoming an Eldritch Gods host when his patron mother retires.

[galacticwarpedlense]

This isn’t even a headcanon per se, it’s more like a thing that could be canon but probably isn’t.

What if the reason why Elliott’s head is usually turned to one side, fully obscuring one eye is that there’s something about that eye that Elliott doesn’t want people to notice so he actively tries to turn that side of his head away from others.

Like there’s a scar that his hair almost obscures or he has heterochromia or a broken iris and wears a contact that doesn’t fit the greatest over his natural eyes. Or maybe even a straight up glass eye that over time shows some wear and tear but he doesn’t exactly have the money to get it replaced.

All things that aren’t completely noticeable from afar (which would explain why the sprite shows both sides of the face) but up close would be.

Honestly though, it would be funny if it was something stupid like his eyeliner is always off on that side of his face and he’s just like “No! Don’t look at me! I’m hideous!” Meanwhile the average person wouldn’t even notice the difference.

[storydragonshoard]

Head canon accepted! One of my farmers is an ex military doc and the glass eye thing woyld be a perfect chance for him to fuss over Elliot.

[storydragonshoard]

The Fox who punches like a Bear.

Name: Kit

Age: 27

Class: Circle of the Moon Druid/Way of the Open Hand Monk

Background: Street Urchin

Romance: Karlach

Vibes in TT sounds:

Uncorn kid. IYKYK

"Making my way downtown, walking fast, I'm seagull go f*** yourself. Dododododo.

"Do you want to be my friend?" "High five if you want to be my friend." *Squeal*

"Oh my God, Crush me mommie!"

"Bloop. Bloop. Bloop." "Kit, that is a predator." "He's not a predator." "What are you-" "Were bloopin. Bloop. Bloop.Bloop."

"I'm sorry...sorry...sorry. Psyche." Eyes go cold and snarling with his fangs. "By the way...you are uninvited."

Back Story:

Mom was a Druid who worked with caravan animals. Dad was a thief escaping a life of crime.

Both worked for a traveling show/ animal vet caravan.

Kit was born with an ability to speak to and understand animals and was a great help with the caravan.

While his mother furthered his natural druidic abilities his father encouraged his strong sense of justice by teachig him how to steal and lockpick to help free the abused animals they came across.

Everything wss fine until about 10 when a sickness ravaged the caravan causing him to lose both his parents and for the caravan to be taken over by an abusive circus owner.

Despite being treated like garbage, Kits sense of justice never died and for 2 years he became the "caravan ghost", randomly releasing animals, stealing and hiding all the keys, messing with the fancy food and luxury items the owner ordered for himself etc.

Then one day, as they were performing in Baldur's Gate, he goy caught amd so he locked himself in the cage with the most dangerous and most rare of the performing animals and wouldnt come out.

And when they tried to get into the cage, the beasts would attack, clearly protecting the boy.

This lasted for several days before members of the Emerald Conclave that had come to investigate the caravan saw what was going on.

In moments they had the caravan shut down, the animals recovered, and Kit was taken in to continue to study druidic arts and become one of there most effective members.

And the one with seemingly the most people that wanted him dead.

Including the old owner of the caravan who killed his mate, a half orc woman who owned a farm near his grove.

An act that would bring about the end of the caravan owners life and the near execution of kit himself.

Until a local palidin came with evidence that freed him.

A large half orc woman whom kit fell head over heels in lust with.

Though their "romantic" relationship was short, they became good friends and often traveled Faerun together.

He even became a surrogate Uncle to the kids she ended up adopting.

While he was visiting them, the illithid ship showed up.

Kit saw it first, and for the first time was the one who did the saving.

She would be mad but...at least...her kids wouldnt be without thier mom.

[kittyxxkatxxkate]

~When Karl's hat and glasses come off that's when you know the fatigue is starting to set in ~This is when he takes a break and lights a cigar (this is his namaste moment) ~Halfway through his cigar, he makes the decision to get back to work ~He will put the cigar in the ash tray and will continuously take a few puffs until the cigar is gone ~The cigar is kind of like caffeine for him (gives him that little pep in his step) ~He will probably put in another hour or two before he put his hair up into a low bun that sits at the nape of his neck (this when you know he's ready to call it a day) ~This is when he makes his way to the shower ~Getting undressed takes a minute because his shoulders are stiff and his back is aching ~Once he's in the shower, he will press his head to the cool tile and just let the water wash over him (the hotter the water, the better) ~He makes somewhat of an attempt to wash up but if he's tired, the man is tired ~He will step out of the shower when the water starts to feel like ice against his skin (he still smells faintly of cigar smoke and oil) ~The thin sheet rests below his navel and his arm rests on top of his head ~He will just lie there and think about the current project he is working on (particularly on what is left to do) ~He will eventually drift off to sleep but to only wake up two, three or four hours later

[caffinedragon]

Nobody Cares, but won't hold your hand.

Plot: Astarion is given permission by R'yleh(Durge) to use his "Journal" to speak with his mother, The Great Old One known as Noone. They ask to speak with him in person during a long rest at camp, where Astarion learns that not all gods act like gods.

Context: No one/Nobody is a home brew deity from an old Pathfinder Campaign of mine who looks after the invisible, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and those who hide in the shadows. Operates less like a god and more like an underground mob boss or invisible hand. LN-CG depending on how you look at her.

Heavily motivated by spite and petty, caring but pragmatic, values observation, investigation, insight, and the ability to think quickly on your feet. A deity that most often works behind the scenes but if dealt with directly will point you in the right direction but expects you to do the rest yourself.

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"I am surprised you came after what you have been through, kiddo."

Astarion jumped as the Deity's liquid honey voice carried through the dark from behind him.

When he turned around, he expected some great horror, or a enchantingly beautiful woman with tendrils coming out of her back or any number of over the top and dramatic options but...

That wasn't what he found.

She was good looking, that was for certain. She was definitely where R'yleh had gotten his looks from but other than that...

She just looked like one of the members of the many Thieves guilds that populated the seedier sections of Balder's Gate.

No extra eyes or appendages or moving shadows just...a pale skinned Drow woman in black leather armor with way more blades than average and a long black cloak to hide them under.

It was...strangely comforting.

"You look a little surprised, Kiddo." Her tone was amused to say the least. Her solid black eyes lighting up with mirth despite the dark. "Expecting something a but more dramatic?"

"Well..." He chuckled nervously, "Compared to the 'gods' I have met recently you seem practically normal."

She smiled, a soft warm thing that relaxed him even more, "Well...it is easier to get things done when no one suspects who you are."

"I suppose that's true." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his feet.

When he looked back up, he jumped again, seeing she had closed the distance form twenty feet away to five in a matter of seconds.

"Ah!" He partially turned away from her on instinct but she didn't seem to mind as she searched his eyes like she was peering into his very soul. "What are you-"

A sad but understanding expression crossed her face. "My son wasn't kidding. You are afraid. But I don't blame you."

"I am not-"

The void black of her eyes reflected his own lies back at him.

The words died in his throat.

"You are afraid." She repeated gently but knowingly, "Your afraid in the same way many of those under my power are. It is fear i am quite familiar with. It is wielded like a weapon by gods and powerful mortals so that they can keep the status quo that lets them stay in control. The same fear, that perpetuates itself and just creates more of the same. Fear that breeds the need for control, that brings abuse, that brings fear, that breeds the need for control...and on and on it goes." She then gently placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him plenty of time to step away.

He didn't.

Something about her alowwed him to let h is guard down.

He knew deep down that somehow, she was different. That she understood.

That, despite being a so called god, she knew what it was like.

"But, you know that already. Don't you kiddo?"

Her words hit harder than he expected but only as hard as he needed.

He did know. It was why Cazador did what he did. It was why Vlaakith wanted to be obeyed. It was why every tyrant, noble, and religious zealot did what they did to others like him.

It was the same fear that made him lure all those people to their doom. That made him want to manipulate R'yleh into protecting him.

And with this being being his mother, he could see why he had seen through it as easily as he had.

But here with her, just as with R'yleh, he felt seen and understood.

And safe.

Like a child in the arms of his mother.

He felt the burn of tears in his eyes.

"Come here." She sighed as she gathered him in her arms, his face easily able to bury itself in her shoulder as she wrapped him in a gentle hug. "It will be all right. Your not alone. Were all victims to this shit. All we can do is find a way to survive, while trying not to become like the monsters that hurt us."

"Even you?" He mumbled into her armor.

"Yeah. Even me."

He was now beginning to understand where R'yleh's loyalty to this being came from, outside of the obvious.

Astarion pulled back to look at her face and rub his eyes, "Are you sure your a god?"

She chuckled, "There have been some days i wonder. Especially when i get more done in a week than most of the other gods have done in 50 years."

He laughed, "I can see that, honestly."

She smiled another wamr smile. "I mean, It's amazing what you can get done when you stop grandstanding and just get to work. If you knew how much reach i have gained in the last century alone because I got my hands dirty just as often as my followers, it would blow your mind."

He smiled genuinely, "If only more gods were like you."

"If only... But, at least i am not alone. Bahamut and I are on the same page when it comes to spending most of our time amongst mortals. So, if you see an old man just wandering around who always seems to have exactly seven birds surrounding him or following him wherever he goes, that's him."

"Does he do this often?"

"All the time. It is his favorite thing to do. He just always seems to attract some ass hole that wants to mess with him for some reason. it's real funny to watch him kick their ass."

"I will make sure to keep an eye out then."

"Oh definitely. And always accept when he asks you to join him for tea. He knows a lot of things about a lot of things and is really good about delivering a verbal kick to the ass when needed. Also he is just a really nice guy to hace a chat with and-"

A sudden look of confusion crossed her face that he was very familiar with.

"Wait...what were we talking about?"

Astarion couldn't help the undignified guffaw that erupted from deep in his stomach.

"What? What's so funny?"

Once he calmed down, "Oh gods...you are definitely his mother."

"What do you mean?"

"R'yleh, he...will start talking about something that will bleed into an unhinged ramble and then suddenly mid sentence he will just stop like you just did and ask that same question."

She started to laugh with him, "Like Mother like Son."

"Exactly. Too bad his father is such a monster."

He regretted saying it the second the last syllable was out of his mouth.

He saw sadness and guilt fill her eyes, "Yeah. A hard lesson learned in not to let your darker nature take hold."

"How did that happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

She exhaled nervously, "Bhaal and his cultists found one of my sanctuary's. It was A haven for unwed mothers and those escaping abusive husbands, old pimps etc. They raided the place doing horrible and unspeakable things to those inside and when i found out... I wanted to get back at him."

"How?"

"Made myself into a target he couldn't resist. I had planned on raising the child to take him down. He killed children and innocents in my care, what better irony right?"

He saw disgust at herself cross her face.

"But?"

"When R'yleh was born, I took one look into my son's eyes and realized what I had done." The disgust turned to anger as she crossed her amrs and looked down at the ground. "I realized what Bhaal's blood would make him do. I had done what every other god I hated did. What I swore never to do...and i did it to my own flesh and blood."

He could see the pain in her eyes as she spoke. The look of a mother who knew they had wronged their child in a way they couldn't fix.

It marveled him that a god could openly be so mortal. So willingly to admit when they were wrong.

It was no wonder how she had gotten so much traction in so little time.

"R'yleh said that it was the reason you formed the pact with him. To help mitigate his father's influence."

"Yeah. It was all i could really do. Thankfully, he inherited my mind so he could sort of compartmentalize the urges in his head and keep them under control. Or at least, until the tadpole anyway. Which is why i wanted to speak to you in person."

"Oh?"

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there for him. For not being afraid of what he is even while your so afraid of everything else. My son has felt alone for a very long time and you...have changed that. To see my little boy smiling and bouncing and laughing like he used to before Bhaal ripped him away from me I...fuck."

She turned away from him as tears of her own began to fall.

He repeated the gesture she had given him without a moments hesitation.

He had no idea what to say to comfort a god but the hug seemed to be enough.

She wiped her eyes as she pulled away, "Sorry...I..."

"No need. He has helped me just as much if not more than i have helped him. I swear that i will continue to do so for as long as he lets me."

She smiled, relieved. "I know you will. And I know my son. He is too attached to let go now. So, if you will allow, i would like to give you something."

"Of course. I am not one to refuse a god, especially my Darling's mother."

He watched as she reached into her cloak and pulled out the same, obsidian crystal, compass, and journal that R'yleh had. The only difference being that the journal had a bat on it instead of a kraken.

"Does this mean I am a warlock now?" He teased.

"No." She chuckled, "Only my son has that honor. But all of my Shadows-My 'Chosen' for lack of a better term, have these. You will be part of the family. This way, wherever you go, if you see my symbol, you will have a place to stay no questions asked. Just show them the compass and they will know."

Astarion took the items from her with a hint of suspicion.

"Does this mean i will be at your beck and call? Like Wyll?"

"No. Right now you and my sons priority is to save yourselves from the tadpoles in your heads. After that, if you feel the need to want to help, you can activate the compass and it will point you where your needed. It's strictly voluntary unless it is an emergency and in that case i usually show up in person."

He looked down at the items, his mind picturing R'yleh as he used them. How he got so much of his information from her but was rarely wrong or lead astray. A part of him wasn't sure after what he endured with Cazador but another part of him liked the idea of being part of this sort of shadowy but ultimately good organization that helped people like him.

"As i said before, it is voluntary and you are more than welcome to make the decision after the stuff with the tadpoles is finished."

Astarion nodded, clutching the items to his chest. "What do i do if i want to accept?"

"Have R'yleh show you how to attune them to you. And if you decide you don't, just give the items to him and he will give them back to me."

She then turned towards the shadows of the tree behind her as if listening to a hidden voice.

"Ah. It seems I am needed once again. Some more trouble in Baldur's Gate I have to attend too." She then gently patted his cheek, "It was good to meet you Astarion. Know that no matter what you decide, my shadows will always be listening for you."

"Thank you."

"Try not to get into any trouble you cant get back out of, yeah?"

"We will do our best."

With a warm smile he watched as she stepped into the shadow of a nearby oak tree and dissapeared.

"So? How did it go?" R'yleh's curious voice asked form out of nowhere.

"Ah!" He jumped, nearly dropping the gifts she had given him. "Gods! What is it with the both of you scaring me half to death!"

He had that cheeky grin on his face again, "We are naturally stealthy people. So?"

With a sigh he showed R'yleh what he was given.

He watched his eyes light up right before he quietly squealed and did his little happy feet dance Astarion found adorable.

"So? Are you going to accept or are ya still thinking about it?"

"I am still thinking on it. After being in servitude to Cazador-"

"Your leery about pledging yourself to someone else." His tone was understanding as he nodded. "That is perfectly valid and fair."

"Thank you."

"So, want me to hang on to them until you make the decision or..."

"No!" That came out more desperate then he wanted. "No. I will...hang on to them."

He could feel the knowing smirk now spreading across R'yleh's face.

"All right." He then began walking back to camp but not before saying, "Just let me know when you want me to teach you how to attune to them. The spell can be a little tricky for those that aint used to magic."

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