#imrae

[spillingteanotpermitted]

𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖, 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣

This blog is at the moment dedicated to my writings around Baldur's Gate 3 and my Tavs, as well as my Durge Run. I also like analysing the plants in the game.

About me

Call me Tea. I'm an aro ace woman who has always liked telling stories, be it via prose writing or GMing for my table in Pathfinder and D&D.

𝕄𝕪 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘

Imrae, the Mad Drow

In chronological order of events:

Your Are Beautiful The moment Imrae decides to flee from his guardian's home.

First Sight Imrae and Shadowheart explore the ravaged beach after the crash of the nautiloid and find a certain pale elf.

Skin Deep When Karlach joins the group, she puts a few things into perspective for the lonely drow Imrae.

The Grey of Ash During their journey through the Underdark, Imrae tries to sneak off alone. Lae'zel does not let him. [Hurt/Comfort, Lae'zel POV]

Whatever It Is After meeting and disappointing Araj Oblodra, Imrae takes some time to himself to overthink what happened. Luckily, Astarion comes to save him from himself. [Angst with Happy Ending, Asexuality, Astarion x Tav]

Oddity A short time after getting together, Astarion has a question for his new beau. [Slice of Life, Astarion POV, Asexuality, Astarion x Tav] Takes place a few days after "Whatever It Is"

One Night At A Time (The Graveyard) [Hurt/Comfort, Changing POV (Imrae/Astarion), Astarion x Tav] Written for Week Four of SpawNovember 2025

Old Fool Halsin confesses his feelings to Imrae. Shadowheart eavesdrops and thus makes it her own problem when the situation goes awry. [Hurt/Comfort, Shadowheart POV, Astarion x Tav]

The Hero and Me A young drow asks his teacher about his adventures during the Absolute crisis. [Slice of Life, Astarion x Tav]

Alternate Universes

The Barrister's Bargain (#bridgersgate event) Chapter One, Two, Three and Four. Lord Imyaraen Auvryervs, son of the Marchioness Lledrith Auvryervs, has come to Baldur's Gate for the social season in search of a bride, accompanied by his loyal friend Captain Lae'zel. He meets the charming Mr. Ancunín, a former barrister, and they form a fast friendship. Meanwhile, Lord Wyll Ravengard, son of Duke Ulder Ravengard, is doing his best to keep his city safe while braving the marriage market himself. [Regency AU, Changing POV, Astarion x Tav, Wyll x Lae'zel]

Llar Darthiir [Read on Lotta's AO3] Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six. A crossover between Imrae and @lottavilja's Tav/Lymune. Among other survivors, Tav and Astarion are in search of a cure for their tadpole problem when they stumble upon a lone drow. As infected as they are, Imrae becomes part of the group. Two drow and a vampire, the three of them band together rather quickly, exploring Faerûn as well as each other in pursuit of answers. [Adventure, Changing POV, Astarion x Tavs (Polyamory)]

Just For A Little While [Read on Lotta's AO3] What if Imrae's parents were alive? What if Lymune's mother Vhaidra Uoswiir seeks shelter at the Auvryervs palace? [What If? AU, Changing POV]

Silk and Blood [Read on Lotta's AO3] Prologue, Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five. A crossover between Imrae and @lottavilja's Tav/Lymune. Drow Tav and her companions make their way down into the Underdark to reach Moonrise Towers. On their way, they stumble upon a strange couple. A drow and a drider. What could have easily ended in bloodshed turns out to be something pleasant when the two drow recognize each other from when they were kids. Determined to help his friend, Imrae and his partner Zhah join the group. A drider and a vampire, however, seem not the best combination, and so Tav and Imrae have to find a way to ensure the two 'monsters' get along with each other. A delicate matter because Tav and Astarion's romance is hanging on by a thread. [Adventure, Changing POV, Astarion x Tav, Imrae x Zhah, Established Asexual Relationship]

The Drow Wanderer

Imrae as a companion.

Act One, Part One Meeting Imrae, Waukeen's Rest, Camp Scenes and the other companions' reactions to recruiting him

Act One, Part Two Goblin Camp, Celebration and Romance

Act One, Part Three Mountain Pass and Underdark

Act One - Imrae's reactions to recruiting the other companions

Act One Miscellany Camp Idles and Banters

Act Two, Part One Enter the Shadow-Cursed Lands

Act Two Hero's Romance (Leader saved the tieflings)

Act Two Pragmatist's Romance (Leader helped Minthara) Coming soon

Companion Greetings (Non-Romanced/Romanced)

Zethino's Love Test

Dragomir, the Dark Urge

His Astral Intro

TEA'S DARK URGE RUN [A Gale x Durge Tale] Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six Impressions from a night with a wizard Part Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve Part Thirteen, Fourteen

Plants of Baldur's Gate 3

Act One Edition and Rivington Edition

Alchemy Edition Part One

[spillingteanotpermitted]

It's finally finished. And hey, right for Augustarion Week 4: with Tav.

Thank you, @missfortunetherogue, for the kind words on the WIP, it helped my motivation a lot.

The Hero and Me

It was quiet in the library as the day drew to an end, safe for the rhythmic clicking of knitting needles, the occasional flipping of a page, and a fire crackling in its place.

Perched on his favourite spot on the spiral staircase, Drovic sorted through his stack of books, his long slate blue fingers trailing over the spines. He spotted one title among them, one he had read through before and that had left him with questions. Questions his teacher would be able to answer.

'No time like the present, right?' the young drow thought as he picked up The Hero and Me by Volothamp Geddarm, and made his way down the stairs.

His teacher Imrae's pale eyes were already fixed on him as he approached. "Yes, child?"

"Why do you have so many books by Volothamp Geddarm in your collection? You said he was a hack, a liar and a buffoon."

The older drow sighed. "They were humorous birthday presents."

The humourus giftgiver's pitched chuckle rang through the room. "They aren't half bad if you read them as fiction, sugarplum," Astarion said, the rhythm of his needlework not faltering once.

"Sadly, most people will not." Imrae snapped his own book shut before he turned to Drovic again. "I suspect you have questions."

Drovic nodded as he sat in an armchair next to his guardian and teacher. "For one, there are a lot of dragons in this, is that true?"

"There was only one at first. Kith'rak Voss's red dragon Qudenos attacked the Flaming Fist and destroyed a bridge on the Risen Road, that was all. We saw a lot more during the battle against the Elder Brain, and Lae'zel rode away on one."

A blush spread across Drovic's face. "The book mentions Lae'zel as your lover, with you being her 'mla'ghir'."

Imrae sighed again. "I had forgotten about that. No, she was not my lover, she was my second-in-command in our little group and she still is one of my closest friends. Mla'ghir means nothing more than 'liberator' in the Gith tongue."

"Though it's not like she didn't try."

Another sigh. "Once, and I declined. Thank you, Star."

"Anything for historical accuracy, darling."

Drovic laughed. In moments like these, the two older elves seemed removed from the figures in the stories. Not many would imagine Imrae, the earthen archmage, to sing softly while he did most anything around his home, or Astarion, the assassin of tyrants, to engage in knitting or embroidery in the evenings.

"Is it really true that you were a-" Drovic began, emboldened by the levity, but it faded a moment too soon as he looked Astarion in the eye.

"Now now, it's not a dirty word. Say it."

"A vampire," Drovic finished.

"Bravo, well done. Yes, I was. Why question that of all things?"

"Volo describes Karlach a foot shorter than she is in the old pictures, and he writes that Shadowheart's hair changed colours nightly," Drovic said with a frown. "Making someone a vampire for dramatic effect doesn't seem far-fetched, especially if it adds to the romantic elements."

Imrae's eyes were on him, measuring the answer that had been given, and he nodded in approval.

"I assure you, there's nothing romantic about it." Astarion picked up the pace with his needles. "Shadowheart's little makeover happened, but only one time. She was pretending not to be sleep-deprived throughout the entire treck to Rivington." He paused and laughed. "She tripped and fell into a patch of stinging nettles, and pretended that also didn't happen. It made my day."

"What he does not tell you is that he almost fell in himself as he was laughing."

"Hearsay," Astarion shot back. "You saw nothing. You were busy with the map."

"That is your future if you marry a scholar of law," Imrae said to his student.

Astarion scoffed. "Excuse me, I have been nothing but helpful with all the infernal contract nonsense they tried to catch us with, back then and since then."

"True. I humbly ask for your forgiveness, my love."

"You will think of a way to make it up to me. My shoulders are quite tense today, by the by."

Drovic smiled as he flipped through the book again. "That reminds me, is it true that the hero Wyll Ravengard was a warlock pacted to the Hells? That sounds very wrong."

"Yes, with a cambion by the name of Mizora. She never quite lost sight of us, and that I have not seen her in a while is concerning," Imrae said, giving a short look to the fireplace as if he was suspecting the devil there.

"So he really pacted with evil to do good?"

"From the perspective of a Wyll who was barely older than you are, yes."

"Oh." Drovic held onto his book. "Can it be done? Good coming from evil?"

"I will not pretend to be a moral authority, but I think it can and it has. At the same time there are those who excuse their cruelties with their good cause," Imrae said. "The world will demand that you pick a side, especially as a drow. They will tell you that is either Lolth or Eilistraee, good or evil, black and white. But there is more to the world than that."

"He's right," Astarion chimed in again. "Living in the grey is very freeing. It keeps them guessing,"

Drovic nodded, idly wondering who 'they' were. Perhaps the same people that were meant in 'they say'. He went through the book's contents in his head again. Gale Dekarios came to mind, but his teacher had spoken about the God of Ambition in great detail, the once mortal wizard who had tamed the Karsite Weave, and whose tressym was very cross with him about it.

Finding all his questions answered and his eyes tiring, Drovic stood up, put his book on one of the tables and bowed to the elder elves. "Thank you for the lesson. I'll ponder it while I try to trance."

"Rest well, child," his teacher said with a smile.

ꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥꗥ

"He's a good kid," Astarion said after the young drow had left for his room downstairs.

"Is that so."

"Oh, don't look so smug about it, being a bleeding heart will cause him no end of trouble in the future," Astarion said as he got up to drape the finished scarf around his husband's shoulders, his hands trailing through short silken hair before finding and caressing Imrae's neck. The flesh that had once been the target of cursed obsession was now sweet reassurance that they both lived.

"Maybe, maybe not. I want him to have a choice. An informed choice, not desperate schemes born from naivety or ignorance. Is that not what it is about, those after us having it better?" Imrae leaned into Astarion's touch while he stroked the soft wool around him. "Thank you. It's very pretty."

"Words of thanks are nice and all, but the rest of my back is also quite tense."

Imrae laughed. "Scoundrel." He reached up to pull Astarion in for a kiss.

Scoundrel as he was, Astarion snatched the drow from his armchair in response and started heading for the stairs to their shared chambers. "You know, we could still write the story down ourselves."

"Veni et iuva me," Imrae spoke, calling unseen servants with one hand while grasping Astarion's dressing gown with the other. "You could. You have a wonderful way with words."

"I just might. I would at least get my lines right. I practically spoonfed them to Volo, but no! That hack thought his trite bits were better than the original!"

Imrae chuckled. "And thus, you know my pain."

As they departed, invisible hands extinguished the fire and tidied up what they had left behind. They placed the yarn and needles in their basket by their owner's armchair and picked up their master's dropped book to put it where he would find it. They lifted The Hero and Me back up to its usual place with other works of fiction, away from the eyes of the foolish and the unsuspecting, and the library was quiet once more.

The End

[spillingteanotpermitted]

I realized that I posted this bit I did for Pride Month in a community and not on this here blog.

I am an aroace woman. Imrae is a demiromantic sex-positive asexual man.

Thus, this is a scene that happens a short time after Imrae and Astarion get together for real, and before they head towards the Thorm Mausoleum (thus Astarion has other things on his mind while he waits for Raphael to make an offer).

There is also a bit of personal catharsis in this short story.

Content Heads-Up: The topic of sex is mentioned in conversation, but nothing explicit and the scene is just that, a conversation.

Oddity

The tieflings were celebrating. Again.

They were celebrating being rescued by their group of weirdos. Again.

Astarion sighed as he walked out into the courtyard of the Last Light Inn, his skin clean of grime and his hair free of debris after a much-needed bath. His eyes darted around as he tried to spot his companions among the crowd. Or, well, one companion in particular, as Shadowheart was inside, "praying" over a bottle of wine, possibly explaining to "The Lady Shar" why she had been such a goody-two-shoes lately, and Lae'zel was discussing armor repairs with the tiefling smith.

No, the man Astarion was looking for had vanished from the adoring crowd, away from the noise and away from lecherous gazes of pent-up Fists and Harpers. He himself was used to these looks to the point of numbness. Their drow leader Imrae, his drow, on the other hand, was not.

Two tieflings ran past him hand-in-hand, that one lovey-dovey couple, no doubt on their way to find themselves a private spot at the inn to indulge in one another. Before this thought could cause an avalanche of others, Astarion spotted a head of white hair under the large tree by the shore.

A weight lifted off of his chest right before another settled on it. He had been avoiding this conversation for a day or two, but now his head was clear from satiation and the thought would not leave him alone still. Questioning others was rarely fun to them, but Imrae had proven to be the understanding sort, perhaps to his own detriment even, and real relationships weren't all about fun, right?

He adjusted his collar, out of habit rather than necessity, and pushed himself to walk down the stairs and up to the tree by the shore where this comely confusing conundrum of a character was resting. "There you are, my dear. Not in the mood for a celebration? I thought you liked that bard's music."

Imrae tore his gaze away from the black waters outside of Last Light's barrier and gave Astarion a tired smile. "I worry that Moonrise might retaliate after our little stunt."

"Because of a few gnome and tiefling prisoners? I doubt it, they seem to be having bigger issues in that cult. Come on, let the Harpers and the Flaming Fist do their job for a change," Astarion said while he sat down under the tree as well.

"You are right. Today has been long enough, and tomorrow might be even longer. Who knows what truly lurks in that mausoleum." The drow elf rubbed his eyes, smudging the bit of dark paint around them.

Astarion tensed a little. "Is it a bad time to ask you something, then?"

"No, of course not," Imrae said as he opened his pale eyes again to give him his full attention.

"I've been wondering about something you said the other night. That you were rarely if ever thinking about others in terms of sex, and your blood seldom running hot. Which is relieving on one hand, but baffling on the other."

"Because we spent the night together twice before?"

"You seemed to at least have a rough idea about what was going on, so I take it that you weren't a blushing virgin."

Imrae laughed a little, seeming unbothered and unoffended. "No, not quite. But I picked my experiences with great care. In the Underdark, I did not come across someone I liked and trusted very often, which is important since what I do enjoy most about it is just being close and safe with someone. Thus, my last time had been quite a while ago, making me a tad rusty."

"There are worse flaws to have, I suppose."

Imrae laughed harder, a sound that was both enchanting and irritating in the moment.

"I want to believe you on this. You showed me your mind after all," Astarion said after silence had fallen again. "Ugh. No matter how I phrase it, it sounds like I'm calling you a liar."

Imrae looked him in the eye. "Not at all."

"And that is because of course I'm not, you're a terrible liar," Astarion teased, voice pitching as old habits took hold despite his vis-à-vis taking this all surprisingly well.

"May I venture a guess?" Imrae asked in a soft voice, and only continued after Astarion gave him a small nod. "You have collected an overwhelming amount of evidence against the possibility of such thing, such a person existing, and now my statement seems outrageous, claiming to be the one exception to the rule."

"It feels like a trick, yes." The oldest in the book, telling someone exactly what they wanted to hear to garner their favour and make them compliant. "Aren't we ever the smart cookie. I hadn't expected a wizard to be this good at people, but here we are. You're certainly leagues better than Gale." There, a compliment to smooth things over, a little jab at the Waterdavian timebomb-

"There are others like me. There always have been. But you are right, I am an oddity."

The pang of sympathy came unexpected. "Somehow, I don't want you to talk about yourself like that."

Imrae smiled. "Ah, to me, it depends on whether that word is spoken in contempt or as a neutral statement."

Astarion though frowned. "Really? Has someone spoken it in contempt before?"

"Yes." Imrae's voice was small, his gaze fixed to the ground. "I can't give you a reason for this, I've always been this way. I can't change how I am, not this."

There it was. A wound, or at least a scar that still hurt. Something that phased the man who had seemed unbothered by most jabs or slights, sometimes frustratingly so, who smiled when he got called naive and who knew how to play the teasing game without taking it personally. Something that before would have begged for exploitation, but now? Now, that wouldn't do.

"Well, if we ever come across that someone, let's see how well they can repeat that with a blade between their ribs," Astarion said as a wicked grin spread over his face. He shifted to put his hand over Imrae's. "Or an arrow in their eye. Your choice, my sweet."

Imrae's smile returned. "Oh, the arrow would be hilarious. She'd be screeching with anger."

"The arrow it is, then. Teasing you is my privilege, after all." Astarion leaned back, a comfortable silence settling between them as they watched the glistening dark waters together.

"Darling?"

"Yes?"

"Now go take a bath, you reek of the Absolute's cheap incense."

"Oh, fop off," Imrae laughed as he got up to do as told.

The End

Thank you for your attention, dear reader. If this helps someone feel even a little less alone, I have done my job as a hobby writer.

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What kind of love is your OC?

Ah, open tags, thank you @riddlerosehearts!

Your post inspired me to take the quiz twice for my boy Imrae too, because his perception of love does change as well.

PRE-BG3

Now, he never fell in love. But he is convinced that nothing lasts. Attachment is a threat. His "romances" were one-night stands where he slept with someone, usually men, to be held for half an hour, and then he'd never see them again. There cannot possibly be someone wants something else from a strange little drow cave wizard, let alone someone who could love him.

POST-BG3

That is quite accurate for him. Make him feel a bit accepted and understood, and he will try and be yours forever. He let nobody close before, but the whole tadpole situation gave him little choice, and deep inside he did yearn for companionship.

Now, Astarion's affection was not genuine in the beginning, but his later honesty about the matter was enough for Imrae to know that it was going to work out.

No-pressure tags for @missfortunetherogue, @burnt-by-marigolds, @bat-enthusiast-3000 and @goosebuermps, also anyone who sees this and wants to jump in.

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OC Interview for the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette - August 22nd Edition

Your Tav/Durge is being interviewed for the next edition of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette! How would they answer these questions for their big feature? And what picture would they want used?

An interview with the leader of the heroes of the Absolute crisis, the drow elf Imyaraen "Imrae" Auvryervs, by yours truly, Lens the tiefling.

𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: 𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖕𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖜, 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖌𝖔 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖞?

IMRAE "My wider knowledge of the surface is still very theoretical. But, this has been the topic of an evening conversation with my trusted companions. Amn, Calimport and Waterdeep seem to be very popular destinations among them."

LENS "What about you, though? Anywhere you like."

IMRAE "The Sevenfold Mazework on the Elemental Plane of Earth. It is supposed to be a breathtaking if mind-boggling sight."

𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: 𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖆 𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙? 𝕴𝖋 𝖘𝖔, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖙?

IMRAE "Now, it would not be hidden any longer if it was printed in a city-wide newspaper, Miss Lens."

LENS "Come on, you know what I mean."

IMRAE "Alright, alright. I used to play the lyre rather well in my adolescence, but I have fallen out of practice since. Maybe I should ask my friend Alfira for lessons, she is opening a bard school in the city."

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖕𝖔𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖜?

IMRAE "An assortment of material components for spells, my notes for this here interview, medicine for light-induced headaches, a bit of the perfume my beloved made for me..."

LENS "Oh, the beautiful elven gent who was at the gate with you?"

IMRAE "The very same."

LENS "I knew it, the glances you two shared were unmistakable. Though many of our readers will be sad to hear that you are taken."

IMRAE "Thoroughly and happily. But, if this adventure has taught me anything, it is to never give up hope. One might just one day find their people under the most bizarre circumstances imaginable. Like the abduction by mindflayers."

LENS "Mister Auvryervs, thank you for your time."

IMRAE "Thank you for having me."

[spillingteanotpermitted]

Your OC as a Forgotten God

If your OC was a forgotten god, which sacrificial offering would awaken them?

@missfortunetherogue and @burnt-by-marigolds, thanks for the tag!

Use this quiz - Picrew Opt 1 - Picrew Opt 2

Imrae, God of Choice

Quite fitting for him, since scarification body art is an important aspect of his history.

Choice is his most important value. Everybody deserves to have it, and true loyalty can only come from it. His favour is shown in flashes of inspiration to those who consider themselves stuck or through comfort to those who only have bad choices available to them.

He is a minor neutral deity, pragmatic and amoral. He gives people a choice, but judging the choices made is not his domain.

His faithful's targets are beasts who rob people of their free will, those who control minds and puppet bodies.

The irony is that his ascencion was not as free a choice as he likes. Imrae never cared for immortality, but as he was exploring an old temple, something got the better of him, and he was dying.

Not ready to bid the world goodbye, he spilt his blood on the nearby altar and asked for more time. He became aware that that would mean eternity when he sprouted feathers and found himself walking despite his wounds continueing to bleed, never quite closing, as his ascencion was makeshift and improper.

He hid himself as he grieved his mortality. When he finally revealed himself to his beloved, not in his divine glory but blood-stained and scared, both wept an entire night in each other's embrace.

With time, his love for life and the world around him returned, and he started using his new power as he saw fit.

Bonus: My boy in his mortal hull

Softly tagging @bat-enthusiast-3000 and @goosebuermps, also anybody who sees this and wants to jump in!

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For the ugly OC asks game!

What is Imrae petty about?

What fills Imrae with envy? Alternatively who does Imrae envy and why?

Thank you for the ask! I'm especially glad you picked the envy one.

What fills Imrae with envy? Alternatively who does Imrae envy and why?

This guy.

Gale of Waterdeep, who had every arcane privilige and honor, including the tutelage of Elminster and Mystra, and gambled it for even more. Gale Dekarios, who has a loving mother who never told him to be quiet or that he was too much.

Imrae always had to be the one to believe in himself, to choose himself, to value himself, because no one else would. It made him independent but lonely.

When Gale tries to connect to his wizard colleague by suggesting that they practice together, Imrae takes it in the worst way possible. No, Gale, the Weave is not music and flowers and rainbows and poetry, it is an unstable dangerous cacophony even without faerzress.

Imrae had to wrangle every bit of knowledge and power he has from its grasping cruel claws. It made him fierce, but also cold and cruel in some ways.

Imrae can connect with most of the other companions on the grounds of the tragedies in their past. Even Wyll and Karlach, whose goodness he can't always understand, he can find common ground with due to Wyll's mistreatment by Mizora and Karlach's decade in the Hells.

With Gale, he only sees the privilige the man has. He still helps him with the orb and the Annals of Karsus, out of necessity and good old curiousity, but they never have a close bond.

Had they met without tadpoles, when Imrae wasn't feeling unsafe, stressed and cornered, things might have been different. They might have been friends.

What is Imrae petty about?

About his areas of expertise.

Do not try to correct him about what he knows about history, magic, or the Underdark. He almost died for some of the knowledge he has.

Him and Gale clash several times in the Underdark about what to do with the foraged food. Gale is a fantastic cook, but his knowledge of the ingredients is theoretical while Imrae has survived there for decades.

Do not correct him about what he has seen or not seen. It's what starts his lifelong one-sided feud with Volo.

(When he finds out that Elminster, Gale and Volo are all Mystra's chosen, Imrae starts to question with what bodypart's counsel the goddess is making her decisions)

[spillingteanotpermitted]

Last Line / WIP Whenever Games

Why, thank you for thinking of me, @missfortunetherogue!

✨ Manuscript Monday ✨

I'm still working on The Hero and Me, i.e. a short thing on how Imrae would talk about the tadpoled adventure after the fact. A long time after the fact, with his student and ward Drovic.

I got tangled in the details, so progress was slow.

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Drovic laughed. In moments like these, the two older elves seemed removed from the figures in the stories. Not many would imagine Imrae, the earthen archmage, to sing softly while he did most anything around his home, or Astarion, the assassin of tyrants, to engage in knitting or embroidery in the evenings.

"Is it really true that you were a-" Drovic began, emboldened by the levity, but it faded a moment too soon as he looked Astarion in the eye.

"Now now, it's not a dirty word. Say it."

"A vampire," Drovic finished.

"Bravo, well done. Yes, I was. Why question that of all things?"

"Volo describes Karlach a foot shorter than she is in the old pictures, and he writes that Shadowheart's hair changed colours nightly," Drovic said with a frown. "Making someone a vampire for dramatic effect doesn't seem far-fetched, especially if it adds to the romantic elements."

Imrae's eyes were on him, measuring the answer that had been given, and he nodded in approval.

"I assure you, there's nothing romantic about it." Astarion picked up the pace with his needles. "Shadowheart's little makeover happened, but only one time. She was pretending not to be sleep-deprived throughout the entire treck to Rivington." He paused and laughed. "She tripped and fell into a patch of stinging nettles, and pretended that also didn't happen. It made my day."

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