+1 certified trans adult, among other things. Bad at games. Been writing a thing about some characters, hoping to share it some time this decade. BG3-related brainrot. Queer As Fuck. He/Him/His. Might be a drow blog now.
The sanity break is going good, I'm getting some stuff done IRL, and HatG is on track to start up again on time on July 1. Since I'm at a cover I'm going to attach the "What even is this???" post again, both for the pinned post on my main and because I started sharing this a few new places like 2/3 of the way through issue one and people definitely missed it.
What is ‘A Host At The Gate?”
HatG is a Baldur's Gate 3 fan comic where I tossed a whole bunch of my Tavs together into a single huge party. Hilarity ensues. The title is a pun I came up with on the fly that ended up sticking; I can't decide if I regret it or not lol.
Who Are the Tavs?
A guy who was just trying to do crimes and is furious to realize he has just become a paladin accidentally
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The skrunkliest little rat boy of a drow you've ever seen
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Disney's first gnome princess, getting more use out of her doctorate on this quest than anywhere else tbh
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Halfling bard making heart eyes at Karlach from approximately knee height (gay)
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Knowledge cleric banned from the set of Mythbusters for safety violations that could have lost them a bunch of permits
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Good Eilistraean dad of Imberlur origin who will make you tea after your big, dramatic character moments
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Exactly one (1) competent project manager fighting all the gods at once to make sure we don't game-over because someone lost a Nether Stone in the bottom of the camp chest.
Do I need to have finished the whole game for this to make sense?
Not really. It helps if saw out the opening cinematic but it should otherwise speak for itself for the most part. Spoilers left and right though.
If I get my way about it, I will eventually go through the whole game with this cast. That is a years long project if I succeed, so life being what it is we'll see how far I get in reality.
How often do you update?
Whenever the next page gets done, so it depends on what my week has been like. I made myself a little sticker chart on google sheets to track my daily drawing goals, so you can usually get a pretty close idea of when to expect the next page.
Next regular page will be July 1; I’m taking some time off at the end of June so I don’t go fully insane looking at the same project constantly.
Content Warnings?
In the long run, about the same as the game its based on. Mature rating overall. Dead dove etc.
Also
1 million thanks to the handful of people who have been following HatG so far, it genuinely means the world to me.
This is a guess but since there seems to be some condensation on the inside of the lid at the beginning, the stuff in the pot probably steamed and then cooled off, which can create a vacuum inside the pot. The lid might have been starting to crack around the handle a little bit, and the pressure made it shatter.
This is part of why a lot of lids have steam vents, to stop pressure changes from creating a seal like this.
Chapter 3: Pages 1~21
It's that time again, consolidating pages together into one post to clean up the main post. a bit better and allow anyone reading to follow through quicker.
I remember when I was younger, anytime I watched a movie where the characters have to kill a scary monster/alien, I always thought the act of killing it was intended to be part of the horror. Like there’s this amazing creature that we’ve never seen before, and maybe under different circumstances we could’ve coexisted with it, but it’s trying to attack you and you have to defend yourself, but by destroying it you also destroy the ability to ever understand it and that’s sad and is supposed to make you feel conflicted.
It was not until well into my adulthood that I realized most people do not have complicated feelings about movies where people have to kill a scary alien monster, nor is that necessarily meant to be part of the narrative (unless it very obviously is). They just want the scary thing to die because it’s scary. I don’t have a real conclusion to this I just started thinking about it for some reason.
The drow formerly known as Ratboy. Belaufein/Balafay, some flavor of part time transfem, now knows that's a thing you can be. Man, this character is UNRECOGNIZABLE a couple years post epilogue. Branching out w/gender presentation, put some weight on, hair chop grew out, plants watered etc. Tattoo over the neck scars. Loved and supported.
"Fell asleep sitting up" seems to still be a recurring pose, but it's "cat lounging in the sun" flavor now instead of "exhausted knock out wherever you sat down" flavor lol
I love Zav'dos' little chicken legs sticking out in different directions. I was going to put her on the shoulder but then I found a reference of a rat doing that and it had to go in lol
Sometimes life will fuck you up, and then you pick up and keep going. That's been this guy A Lot. Refuse to quit. Become seemingly unkillable. Be a fucked up old crocodile. This has gotten away from me. Anyway.
(a mini-fic for bg3 pride month day 3: "orange - healing")
this is the second of the fics + matching VP i plan to post for the rainbow flag days. this one ended up being longer than i planned, but it's still short and sweet! i should note that elenion uses he/they pronouns and i switched between them in this story. 🧡
it's ~1.5k words and can be read below the cut, or on ao3 here if you'd like to leave a kudos or comment!
(if anyone ever wants to be on or off that list, or if anyone would like to be tagged specifically for my pride month mini-fics, just let me know!)
(before the fic i also wanted to say that the first pose in the photos is by @jessiemeows from her Just a Moment More pose pack, for bt1xbt2 but refitted with bone zone. and the second pose is by @another-pale-elf-lover/Miam158 from his Couple Pose Pack, for bt2xbt4 but i refitted and adjusted it a bit with bone zone. so thank you to both of you for your lovely work, and to @worfs-glorious-hair for hosting this event!)
Elenion had fun playing at The Yawning Portal tonight.
And that was exactly the problem.
The crowd had been warm and respectful. They laughed, smiled, and didn't demand he be anyone other than a man with a lute. A married man, he should add, who took far too much joy in flirting with Gale in the audience just to make sure no one forgot. The crowd had learned to love that.
Tonight, he'd rambled too long about an old folktale before playing a song based on it, losing his place once because someone laughed at the wrong part and made him laugh too. By the final verse, the room was clapping along and Elenion had completely forgotten to stay composed. So he did something he hadn't done in a long time: he swept his arms wide, twirled on his heels, and dipped low into a grand, theatrical bow.
The audience loved it. His shoulder did not.
Pain caught beneath the old scar, sharp enough to make his smile go still for a heartbeat. He straightened smoothly anyway, because of course he did. Years of practice had taught him how to turn pain into poise. How to handle it alone before anyone had a chance to see.
Unfortunately, he had a husband now.
One who, judging by the look on his face across the room, had seen right through everything. Elenion gave Gale their most reassuring smile.
He didn't smile back.
By the time they reached the tower, the ache had settled deep into Elenion’s shoulder. They sank into the couch as Gale unfastened the cloak they'd worn on the walk home.
"If I may offer a brief critique," Gale said brightly.
"You may not," Elenion interjected.
"That flourish was musically appropriate, visually effective…"
Gale’s voice softened as he rested one hand on their unscarred shoulder. “And medically unwise.”
"A mixed review," Elenion said, huffing a laugh despite himself.
"A generous one," Gale said. "Let me help, dearest."
Elenion sighed. "Gale, I…"
I'm fine. I've handled worse alone, he was going to say. And then he pictured Gale's eyes going unbearably soft, his voice dropping into that gentle tone Elenion had never learned how to argue with.
"Fine," he murmured. "The balm is in the drawer by the bed."
"I'll be right back," Gale said softly.
He was gone just long enough for Elenion to consider standing up and pretending this had never happened. Not that they would've gotten far, since the ache had spread and they knew the balm would help. They used to apply it on their own in a rush, rubbing in just enough of it to soothe the worst of the pain before moving on with their day.
When Gale returned, he had the jar in his hand and a soft shawl folded over his arm. “If you are preparing an argument, I should warn you I have several counterarguments and one of them involves simply looking at you until you concede.”
Elenion hated how well Gale understood them. "Cruel tactics," they said with a smirk.
"Effective ones." Gale sat down beside them. "Shirt, please."
They eased their shirt off carefully. The usual enchantment that hid their scar had faded at some point, and Elenion didn't bother hiding it again. Gale knew its jagged shape by heart anyway.
Gale warmed the balm between his fingers, staining them orange-gold. It smelled faintly of calendula flowers, lavender, and beeswax, an old recipe Elenion's mother had taught them after the fire.
He worked the balm slowly over the old scar, his touch careful enough to make Elenion's throat tighten for reasons that had nothing to do with pain. His thumbs found the places where the muscle had gone tight and coaxed the ache loose with small, patient circles.
When the worst of the tightness had eased, Gale leaned in and pressed the gentlest kiss to the curve of their shoulder.
Elenion melted into it before he could stop himself. His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a soft, embarrassingly contented sigh.
"Don't say anything," he mumbled.
"I wasn't going to," Gale said, but Elenion could practically hear the grin in his voice.
Gale laid the shawl in Elenion's lap and cast a cantrip. A moment later, soft amber light threaded through the fabric, leaving it warm beneath his hands.
“There,” he said, draping it carefully over Elenion's shoulder. “Better?”
Elenion swallowed. "Annoyingly."
"Good," Gale said, his smile turning so smug it should've been illegal.
Elenion let themself sit beneath the warmed shawl, Gale's hand steady at their back, for all of three minutes before the tenderness became unbearable.
“I’m making tea,” they announced, bracing a hand on the edge of the couch.
Gale’s hand closed gently around their wrist before they could stand. "You are sitting still."
"I was. Briefly."
"Len."
“Darling.” They rose carefully before Gale could stop them. “You rubbed balm into my shoulder and bullied me with a shawl. Let me make tea.”
“You don’t have to take care of me just because I took care of you.”
Elenion paused. Then their face softened. "I know," they murmured. "But I want to."
Gale opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Go wash the tavern smoke out of your hair," Elenion said. "Change into something comfortable. I’ll make the tea and come to bed."
Gale studied them for a moment, then surrendered with a sigh. "All right."
Elenion made the tea by lamplight, still wrapped in the shawl Gale had warmed for them. Orange peel, cinnamon, clove, and a spoonful of honey because Gale always claimed not to want too much honey in his tea and then drank it anyway.
It felt strange, even now, to have someone care for them like this. Stranger still to be allowed the joy of caring for Gale in return.
They smiled into the steam.
By the time they carried the cups upstairs, Gale had changed into a loose robe, his hair damp at the temples. He was sitting against the pillows with a book open in one hand, because apparently nothing could stop him from being ridiculous.
He looked beautiful.
He took a teacup in both hands, breathing in the steam before he drank. "You added too much honey."
"You always say that, and yet you always finish it," Elenion said.
Gale shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. Elenion settled close at his side, folding into him and letting their head rest near Gale’s heart. His robe had fallen open, and the scar caught the amber lamplight.
Almost without thinking, Elenion set their tea aside and brushed their fingertips along the edge of the mark. Gale went still, but didn't pull away.
They knew the scar still ached sometimes. They'd seen the bad days, when Gale pressed his hand absently to his chest after too much spellwork, or breathed a little more carefully as the old Netherese damage tugged beneath his skin. So they kept their touch light, gentle enough that Gale could stop them with the smallest breath.
They stayed tucked against him, feeling his warmth as their fingertip traced the shape the orb had left.
"I thought it would go with the orb," Gale said at last.
Elenion’s fingers stilled. "You mean the scar."
"The scar. The ache. The reminder." Gale looked away. "Mystra removed the danger. Some foolish part of me hoped she would take the evidence too."
"Evidence of…?" Elenion asked, though he already knew the answer.
Gale let out a humorless laugh. "My ruin. My folly. Choose whichever indictment sounds most poetic."
Elenion's heart ached at his words. It wasn't the first time he'd heard them, and he doubted it would be the last. He knew better than most how stubborn shame could be.
He lifted his hand from the scar to cup Gale's cheek. "Hey," he said. "Listen to me."
Gale finally looked back at him.
"I'll remind you a thousand times if you need me to," Elenion said softly. "This isn't ruin. It isn't evidence of failure. It's proof you lived."
He shifted just enough to kiss the scar, slow and careful. Then he lingered there for another breath, his mouth warm against Gale's skin.
"And," he added, lifting his gaze to Gale's, "it's also unfairly handsome."
Gale's breath caught. He tried to recover with a raised eyebrow. "A beautiful sentiment," he murmured. "I do wonder whether its author intends to accept the premise himself."
Elenion immediately glared at him. "This is about you."
Gale huffed a small laugh. "Convenient."
Elenion's glare softened. He opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. He still didn't know if he could accept the premise yet, but Gale made it a little easier every day.
Gale’s hand found the shawl still draped over Elenion’s shoulder, warm from enchantment and faintly scented with calendula balm. His thumb moved over the edge of the fabric, careful and unhurried.
"I love you," Elenion whispered.
Gale kissed the top of his head. "I know," he whispered back. "And I'll always remind you too."
Elenion hid his smile against Gale's chest.
The ache hadn't vanished, and neither had the shame. Not completely. But Gale was warm beside him. Amber light softened the edges of everything, and orange spice tea cooled forgotten on the bedside table.
For tonight, that was enough.
My spell-check thinks calendula isn't a real word, which is very annoying. So fun fact: calendulas are also known as "pot marigold" and are a yellow or orange flower that's known for anti-inflammatory properties and can be used to help with wound healing and skin irritation!
