#Reaper of Bhaal

[maegalkarven]

So...

I actually created most of the Notable Members of the Cult of Bhaal in Nemo's timeline.

Beware, a lot of screens and info under the cut.

Let's start with the elders, aka 2 only lived till the events of the game people who passed the rites and became unholy assassins before Nemo became the leader. Everyone else who's still in the cult came after.

Gregor.

Human, he/him, warrior. Tired as shit. Respects Sarevok but doesn't like Orin. Nemo is okay, he saw that kid grow into a fine young leader he is now. Has a daughter he keeps as far as possible from the cult.

Takes Nemo's side, dies in the confrontation with Orin by Orin's hand.

Braska.

Half-orc, she/her, monk. Was in love with Helena but never told her. Loves Orin as her own daughter but, again, never let her know. Takes Orin's side even though Orin has visibly changed, is killed by Gregor's blade.

Then come the kiddos Nemo picked up on different occasions.

Clotilda.

Wooden elf, she/her, assassin. Nemo's protégé and second in command. Tattoo on her face is a gift from Nemo for her unholy assassin's initiation.

The first one Nemo ever brought to the temple, as a result has an incurable Older Daughter syndrome. Control freak. The spokesperson for relationships with other organizations (mainly Ninefingers' guild.)

Hated Orin's rule because of how everything was disorganized and also how Orin did everything wrong.

Was demoted to a mere bodyguard by Orin, but jokes on her, this is how Clotilda met the love of her life Polandulus. They haven't told anyone about their love yet, and Polandulus is baneite, but surely everything will work out. Lord Nemo is very close with Lord Gortash, after all, he'll understand.

Is overly protective of Vivias, the tiefling sorcerer, because he was brought the second and she immediately adopted him as her brother. They wear the matching earrings sets.

Takes Nemo's side, survives.

Vivias.

Mephistopheles' tiefling, wild sorcerer, he/him. Burned half of his face when he was a child (it also almost resulted in him being murdered by an angry crowd, but Nemo interfered and murdered the said crowd instead.)

The baby of the murder family but also the most unpredictable (due to his magic) one. Has an ugly crush on Lerroe, but don't tell them!

Takes Nemo's side, murders half of Orin's cultists in one extremely dangerous and uncontrollable blast (burns both of his hands in the process)

Lerroe.

Seldarine drow, they/them. Nobleborn. Warlock with fiend patron because the killings of their entire family by said fiends taught them what they're better than their parents. Struck a pact with one of the fiends who killed their family and this is how they survived. Nemo picked them up later.

Is oblivious to Vivias' crush despite their co-cultists taking bets on them getting together. Takes Nemo's side because just who Orin thinks she is?

If you think they look like dunmer from TES, it's because they do.

Morna.

Halfling, barbarian, she/they. One of the urchin children Nemo first fed humanoid flesh to and then kidnapped/took in. No-nonsence, doesn't care about Bhaal that much, but cares about the place where they found shelter and home. Defends her home and her leader against Orin. Lives.

Writt.

Half-drow, ranger. They/them. Urchin from the streets Nemo took in. Avid cannibal due to Nemo's manipulations. Takes neutral position and waits till the winner is declared.

Franceska (Fran).

Asmodeus tiefling, warrior, she/her. The last of Nemo's urchins. Still uneasy with the cannibal thing, but you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Gregor's apprentice. Takes Gregor's (meaning Nemo's) side, barely survives.

Csenya and Caterina.

Humans, she/her and she/her. The twin daughters of the cultist of Tiamat Wyll killed when he defended Baldurs Gate seven years ago. Don't tell them Wyll did that.

The last ones Nemo brought to the temple.

Csenya (left) is a bard. Caterina (right) is a mystic trickster.

Take different sides in the fight with Orin, resulting in Caterina killing her sister and then, after realizing what she has done, killing herself.

For some reason they're the only ones Withers agrees to revive. The first thing Csenya does after the revival is stabbing her sister in the eye.

Bonus: the adult who wanted to join after Nemo and Sceleritas dealt with the necromancer who left behind himself poisonous bodies.

Rico.

Dwarf, he/him, necromancer because what doesn't kill you makes you want to learn it. Who knows what fucked up experiments the necromancer performed on him? He won't tell.

Takes the neutral position in the fight with Orin.

#dark urge: nemo #bg3 #the cult of bhaal #bg3 oc #bg3 ocs #clotilda is actually canonically existent reaper of bhaal who was guarding orin on one ocasion #and a baneite polandulus was guarding gortash. and they talked and he caught feelings #and polandulus almost sent her a letter with confession #you can find it on his body at the steel watch foundry after you defeat baneites #idk even if polandulus is he but by the name it sounds like it #anyway MY ocs now

[y-rhywbeth2]

Reaper of Bhaal Ogga: "Did you not feel his presence? You cannot shirk the weight of your lineage, Bhaalspawn, not really. It is far too heavy. "[She slipped, and it crushed her] Lady Orin misjudged the weight of Bhaal's favour. So have you, spawn of Murder." Reaper of Bhaal Eglantine: "Bhaal will choose another, soon enough - one who will hunt down previous failures like [you]. I would start running." Narrator: *Though you are not governed by your Father anymore, your blood bears his taint. If you were to have sires of your own, they would be born Bhaalspawn.* From BG2: "Even after my resurrection [thus no longer being tied directly to Bhaal and this destiny stuff], violent rage pollutes my tainted blood. As [my sibling] can surely attest, it is a constant struggle to keep our bloodlust in check."

The Temple of Bhaal would like you to remember that Bhaal is absolutely not going to let this whole "defied him and lived" thing go. (Which yeah. Evil deities don't accept resignations.)

(On the other hand at least Bhaal will send you many things to kill for fun, and possibly things for Astarion or mind flayer Karlach to snack on)

#babbling #/durge #edgelord hours

[cats-obsessions]

Kill Your Lover - Durgetash Drabble, Part 1

Summary: The Dark Urge, Nox, is brought his father's command to kill his lover for the first time, and Sceleritas wants to plan a wedding.

Part 1 | Part 2

---

Somehow, the silence echoes in the room, pounding, throbbing pain bouncing off the walls of Nox’s busy mind. He had been serving his father well without complaint. His following had never been stronger since he was appointed Chosen, and the temple was thriving. He didn’t understand- he didn’t want to.

“I have treated you with great mercy throughout our years working together.” He finally says. So much meaning hidden between the words, more unsaid than said.

“Oh, but master I only desire for your greatness!” Sceleritas stands before him, the useless butler eager in his duty, a grinning reaper of death.

“Stop.” Nox pinches the bridge of his nose. He fights with himself not to scream, and his voice comes out a deep, measured, and dangerous sound, “You watch me, you follow me, you report on my business- my victory and my sin alike. You are nothing but a glorified spy to serve my father.”

“I would never-”

“Then, you will not speak of this. It is only physical, and we have made much growth toward my father’s design.”

“The machinations you have contrived of, I will admit, are beyond that I have seen from any other Bhaalspawn. Nonetheless, you must know Bhaal has sensed some… attachment to the Banite.”

“He is wrong.” Nox hisses, and not even he knows the depths of which the lie runs.

“Wonderful! Simply kill-”

“No.”

The bravado in Sceleritas’ posture all but seeps out of him, his shoulders beginning to wilt toward the floor. “Your refusal will only prove him right.”

“The plan is not finished.” Nox says, and the justification is true.  

“Surely m’lord can complete it without the Banite.”

“I cannot.”

“Master, there is no shame in gaining such attachments as long as you divulge yourself of them as they come up.”

“I cannot.”

“If it is sentimentality that concerns you, have you considered the romanticism of whispering your confessions to the Banite as you delve your blessed dagger into his dark heart?”

“I will not.” Nox raises his voice. “I will not. Not now. Not yet. Allow me this one thing.” He feels as though there is a hand in his chest, squeezing his heart as the wretched thing fights for every last beat of blood flowing through his veins. The pain in his head intensifies, sharp spikes stabbing into his frontal lobe.

There is a long silence between them before the butler finally speaks, his voice unusually soft, “You know I am not the one that commands such things.”

“I know.” He sighs, “And yet, I do not know what to do.”

Another long pause hangs in the air until Sceleritas lifts his hand, damned finger pointed toward the heavens. “Perhaps there is hope yet to make your case to our Lord Bhaal. Surely, your loving father will pardon your fondness if only we can convince him the Banite pawn is needed. Perhaps, both your desires may be sated in truly the greatest show of attachment given by our blessed lord.”

“To sacrifice us on my father’s alter? Of course, I’ve considered it.” Noxs huffs, and he has. He’s envisioned it more than once throughout the years since their first coupling- hells, maybe a few times before then, too.

“Oh my, had I known things were so serious, I would have prepared an array of options for the ceremony. Oh- yes, suits, decorations, a feast. My- no-” the butler shakes his head, seemingly pushing the thoughts from his mind, “Not yet my lord. You may instead give your father a sign of your commitment to such a design. To complete his plan then slaughter the failure of Bane in your own last breath.” Sceleritas sighs wistfully, “Nothing could be more romantic.”

Nox mulls it over. He had wished for that moment many times since first feeling the depravity of the Banite’s adoring touch, but to promise it at the end- would it be possible his father could allow him that much time? A greedy mind would imagine years- decades even before the world was truly under their thumb. All that time to live before it was time to die. It was a dream he dared not hold onto too tightly.

“I have officiated such rituals many times.” He thinks back to his followers which had chosen such a fate. The way they held each other close, staring deep into the eyes of their lovers as if they were not bleeding out onto the alter of Bhaal- that was, when both parties cooperated, anyways. “When an outsider is involved, we say they are made holy by their union.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

“Is that- could that be the case for Enver even?” They were doomed from the start, if he’s being honest with himself. There was no reality in which they could be together forever. This was not a choice he could make, but perhaps, if his father truly loved him, Bhaal could.

“To be taken into Bhaal’s great arms? I do not see why he would say no.” the butler hums.

Yes, he would do that. The next morning, he would rise early while the sun still sat on the edge of night and day, and drew drops clung to every grass blade, and he would procure a wondrous sacrifice for his father. He would bring his bounty to the temple, in the depth of the holiest of holy rooms, and he would conduct his own personal ceremony. Only then would he bow in prayer and scrawl his plea to his father in blood and ink.

*  *  *

Sceleritas jumps up, his long fingers tapping together impatiently as the door to the Dark Urge’s chambers swings open. It had been not hours but days since the Scion of Bhaal had left the ritual chamber, no food or drink or communication beyond his prayers to their god.

“Master! You are back already! What did he say?”

He’s draped in his ceremonial garb, a long, white robe seeping with the red of blood from the bottom of it and gold chains which hold the symbol of Bhaal suspended between his horns. Normally, his expression would be alight with desire and excitement, consumed with the pleasing warmth of murder and blood.

Instead, there is nothing behind his eyes; not grief nor joy nor sin. Only emptiness, a void so dark, Shar herself surely stands before him.

He does not answer the butler for a long, unmoving moment. Unfeeling hands pull the prayer of forgiveness out again, and Nox looks down at it one last time, the words burnt into his eyes and soul. Finally, recognition flashes before his eyes, something sharp and dangerous. He folds it neatly and places it into his breast pocket.

“It will not be of concern to me anymore.”

Part 2

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Other Durgetash drabbles: x

#Look #We all know Gortash would be a bridezilla if it was a traditional wedding #but Sceleritas would be the bridezilla if its a Bhaalian wedding #Anyways this is technically like chapter 6 of a fic im writing but I'm writing it all out of order and I wanted to share #enver gortash #lord enver gortash #durge #the dark urge #sceleritas fel #oc: Nox #cats thoughts #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #established relationship btw #drabble

[crossdressingdeath]

Reaper of Bhaal Clotilde: We redden our steel by the light of day in His name. Reaper of Bhaal Clotilde: You are our lamb, ready for slaughter. Reaper of Bhaal Clotilde: Lady Orin asked us to test you, but I think you'll fail. What say you, little lamb?

This must be getting really tiring for Durge. Bhaal doesn't even want them dead! All these cultists keep turning up to kill them in Bhaal's name and there's not once an option to go "You know I'm Father's favourite child, right?" He's not even subtle about it, Bhaal so obviously prefers Durge that it's bypassed sad and gone straight into hilarious. I assume Orin carried out a purge of any cultists loyal to Durge when she usurped them and that's why all the cultists Durge runs into are so quick to attack them, but it's still both annoying and kind of funny that not a single Bhaalist we've run into has gone "Hey, actually, I don't think fighting our previous boss who for some reason Bhaal is choosing to keep alive despite them losing badly to Orin is a good idea." The Bhaalists more than anyone else should know that Durge is not to be fucked with, and yet here we are! I just hope I don't have to fight the whole temple on the way to Orin...

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #durge #i mean i'll happily slaughter the whole temple but it'd be nice to get the chance to talk to the cultists #maybe there's backstory

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 1,504

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7. ⬇

Chapter 8.

Notes: The flu kicked my ass bad. I wanted to post this days ago. Sorry for the delay! I'm feeling better, so, hopefully, I'll have more energy to write. :3

Chapter 7: Three Conditions

The expression he donned was indescribable. Tav could detect so many things in the very same moment: regret, rage, boastfulness and then… sadness. Settling on a scowl one mere second later though, Enver shook his head.

"She'd rather gut me than letting me even consider fixing it."

"I'll talk to her."

Gortash stared at her for a long moment.

"On three conditions."

"Three?!"

"You've heard me."

Tav fought hard not to roll her eyes. She crossed her arms in front of herself with an expectant look on her face. Three conditions - they weren't much to give in exchange for her friend's life, but if it came to Gortash, who knew what he might ask for… Tav probably wouldn't sell her soul to a devil to save her, but she was willing to give this a try. After all, he couldn't claim her soul, at least, and that was a relief…

What was the worst to happen?

"I'm listening."

"One", Gortash raised his right index finger, then pointed at the Reaper's Embrace, "you're wearing the armour from now on."

Something stirred within her. What did he do to the armour, really? Why was it so important for him? She wondered… what was that dark purple gemstone he put in it's claws right over where one's heart would be?

Given the nature of their meetings Tav was trying to believe he wouldn't pull anything malicious when it came to her. But she couldn't be entirely certain. He'd tricked an innocent bard, after all, offering her gold in exchange for her "voice" – only for her to end up as a brain in a box. Surely, Tav shouldn't let her guards down, because she might find herself without a body, too.

That was the worst to happen.

She shuddered.

Still, she'd need Karlach with her, and perhaps she'd… tolerate Gortash more if he did them all such a favour. He'd ultimately save Karlach's life – of course, after he'd majorly fucked it up for her. In any case, if Tav wanted to really bring the fight to Orin, she needed Karlach. That was non-negotiable.

In short… she had no choice. Try and trust Gortash, or die.

"Fine. I'll wear it."

"Two: you'll visit me every day for dinner." Tav nearly smiled, as it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She could have the others stay at an inn and she'd sneak out every night without anyone knowing… that should do the trick. Free meals? So far, every meal she'd eaten with him was glorious. She'd be mad to turn that down. "And", he added when he sensed she was looking at it as good news, "we will work on your traumas to toughen you up."

The absurdity of it all!

"You have absolutely no idea what I had to face", she couldn't help it, she snapped. "The things I've seen and done-"

"Exactly", he nodded, "and we need to get those out of the way. You can't feel vulnerable in Bhaal's temple. We can't allow that to happen."

"I can take care of myself. Always did, always will."

"I know that, but will you allow me to do the same for you? You don't have to do this all alone."

She stared at him for a few long seconds, trying to determine how serious he was about this.

"Dinner sounds nice, the other – not."

Gortash knew he'd need to be cruel. This was, really, a small price to pay in the long run. If she could get rid of Orin for him, and brought him the Netherstones… he was willing to sacrifice his free time to work on her, so she could withstand anything she might face.

"You either do this for me, or I'm not fixing Karlach's engine. It's up to you."

She wanted to snarl at him for being so stubborn. He reminded her of Raphael, bringing back an old memory; that how Mol had freedom… to choose 'freely' the only one choice she had. Tav growled lowly.

"Okay. What else do you want to extort from me?"

Gortash smirked at her question.

"A kiss. Not now", he held his right hand up, then motioned between them, "on my own terms. Where I want, when I want."

Tav furrowed her brows, sensing some sort of trick. And, at the same time, she hated everything about him, even the motions he made with his hand when he was talking. Not for long enough, though.

"One single kiss?"

"Yes."

"That's it?"

"Yes", he nodded, and chuckled quietly at her confused expression.

"Fine", she ran a hand in her hair. "Anything else? Or are you finished taking everything from me?"

"My dear, the payments I require are nothing in comparison to what I'm ready to do... for you." He reached out to touch her towel clad waist, and pulled her close to himself before he kissed her deeply. Tav nearly melted at his confidence, in his embrace. She reached up to touch his face, and gently ran her thumb over his scar on his chin. Enver hummed before he pulled away. "It's late, and it's dangerous outside. Stay for the night."

"Do I have a choice?" She asked playfully.

"No", he smirked as his hand slid down on her body and grabbed her ass.

"I'd like to remind you that I do not belong to you", Tav murmured, trying hard to look just as confident as he did, but his closeness and his hands on her body were distracting.

"You needn't remind me. You're not cattle." Cocking a brow, his eyes darkened with something different, something she knew from their previous 'meetings'.

"Glad to hear that", she purred softly.

As a reply, Gortash grabbed the towel at her back and yanked it away from her form before he reached down and picked her up. She gasped as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

"…again?" Enver huffed in her neck, making her giggle when his breath tickled her skin.

"Oh, yes~"

It did not take long for him to relocate them in yet another lavish bedroom, but she didn't even really care where they were. He could've taken her in a bedroll in the middle of nowhere with nothing but their dinner to their names; the way he could make her feel was otherworldly and utterly dangerous.

Later on, she was thinking about that if anyone told her a month ago that she'd be laying comfortably in the arms of the Chosen of Bane, she would've laughed hysterically.

And yet, there she was. Nestled warmly against him. Tucked in, his arms and his blanket around her form. In his bed. In his bedroom. In his bloody palace.

And she'd never felt safer in her entire life.

Tav listened to the way he was breathing; rhythmically, calmly, his last words still hanging in the air when he was dancing between being awake and asleep.

"Together... we will be great."

He'd given her no reason to believe he was lying. So far, everything about him was surprisingly good; from their shared meals to the sheets, Gortash paid a lot of attention to what she liked. She didn't even need to say it out loud, and he knew. As if it was second nature for him. As if it was in his best interests to keep her satisfied and happy.

And it was, in fact, done in his best interests. He was doing this all to make her obey him. To make her submit to his will. To guide her. To prevent her from ever betraying him.

A part of her wanted to give in. She wouldn't need to do much, just follow his lead; let his hand guide her wherever he wanted her to be. Perhaps it'd be best, really; she was growing tired of being the leader, trying to hold her little band of vagabonds together, trying to figure out their next steps, trying to keep peace within the camp. Especially after how Astarion had left them. It'd be so much easier if she could just... lay back and let someone else do the brain work for once.

But she also was aware that Gortash was a Banite; the very Chosen of the God of Darkness, a god who valued people who crushed the weak under their boot.

Did Gortash see her weak? Was she?

Tav's brows twitched as she was questioning herself. From a point of view, she was. Gortash never needed to do much to get under her skin, but that wasn't entirely his fault. She simply couldn't help herself when she saw those dark eyes, messy hair and thick lips of his. And his voice. Gods, his voice. His brilliant, wonderful mind and well put-together plans - the fact he was ready to share everything he earned for himself with her of all people.

She closed her eyes.

I'll worry about my emotions later, she decided, I shouldn't let them distract me now. I'll enjoy this while it lasts.

#Oathbreaker #little tyrant [enver gortash] #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #enver gortash #archduke enver gortash #lord enver gortash #fanfic #Oathbreaker fanfic

[illithilit]

While I still need to finish a durge playthrough to understand some of the nuances of their story ( yay for executive dysfunction ), I think from digging around for information has given me enough to make a few executive decisions:

Having her skull opened by Orin isn't just a wave away reason Yzare can't remember who or what she is for a while; it causes her issues from the rest of her life ranging from going from a more calculated individual to one who prefers to follow her whims ( a loss of impulse control levels ), to reoccurring migraines, to difficulty with sleep in nearly every facet of it.

She's going to therefore follow her urge a fair bit, but will refuse in certain situations. Sometimes refusing are times that she vm wants to kill, and thus she has to remove herself from the situation or her frustration is going to override her ability to control herself. Not being able to do so will depend on the situation and possibly any relationship(s) she has with those around her

She isn't antagonistic at all to any of the Chosen Three but Orin, and only Orin bc of the whole taking away that which Yzare views as hers. She might actually be convinced to set aside said grudge, though, but will depend solely on plotting

Many of her actions have been following Bhaal with the intent of eventually rug pulling cult and power alike from under him -- but thanks to the brain injury, she has a lot harder time not responding with ungodly rage to being treated like a puppet, and will therefore eventually defy Bhaal. Being brought back by Withers puts her under Kelemvor and Jergal's control, though given that she is given more freedom on top of another chance at life, she's a lot more accepting of being under someone else. She is a sort of reaper figure, and eventually becomes of the chaotic neutral persuasion.

Being revived does not fix the brain trauma.

#sorry for being weird last night. it's just because there's a bunch of shit wrong with my brain // mobile. #I just think she's neat...... #I will also eventually talk more about her brain trauma symptoms #live each day as if it were your last because I'm going to kill you but I'm not super good with schedules // Yzare headcanon.

[fallenbhaalspawn]

A (Probably Incomplete) List of non-Doppleganger/Changeling Bhaalists as of 1492

Death's Head of Bhaal - Glyria, Eni, Feona, M’alice, Blythe, Nov Shmoz, Spaulder, Derysia, Fustian

Unholy Assassin - Mitchia, Rycke

Reaper of Bhaal - Velki, Liya, Shrev, Vagga, Onilla, Clotilde, Skoan, Deera, Flo-Flo, Varneela, Gruntman, Snirr, Eglantine, Ogga, Hiila, Zerillis

Night Blade - Elda, Dellinjah Dax, Klarv, Vinnia, Abraxa, Majjo, Garithon, Comina, Flange, Maireadh

Invoker of Bhaal - Horiss, Grice, Hivune, Grimlark

Unknown - Cirian, Manglin’ Abby, Strangler Luke, Blood Mopper*, Hiskaal**

Devastator*** - Lizabett (Hobgoblin), Stropes (Hobgoblin)

*I don't think this is his name, but he doesn't have one

**From Descent to Avernus, deceased by/during 1492

***What the hell is a Devastator

#unlabeled people are human—theres a lot of humans in here #anyway this is all the ones i caught on my recent playthrough. i am for sure missing some! #01 #dark urge #orin the red #bhaal #bg3

[echthr0s]

the Otherworldly Companion (OC) masterpost

(aka "who the fuck are these people you're tagging")

Nuadha is what's commonly called the "Dark Urge", but with some modifications. She is an avatar of a largely-forgotten god (in this part of Toril, anyway) who ran afoul of both Bhaal and his Chosen. She travels Faerûn in the company of future Hero of Baldur's Gate Wyll Ravengard searching for a cure to a mindflayer affliction and a reunion with the sundered fragments of her Self.

Dayir and Ishan are my Eorzean Warriors of Varying Luminosity, as it were, and there's a lil about post about them here. Sesshai is their tricksy Viera bestie that I don't talk about nearly enough, for some reason.

Noah Kingfisher is the Sole Survivor of Vault 111; Gabriel the Revelator is the Lone Wanderer; and Gideon of the Grave is Courier Six. Noah is a literal child of Atom, and Gabriel is the next-closest thing, being genetically manipulated by Atom in utero. Noah also exists in Halcyon and Far Cry 5's Montana (along with Preston Garvey).

Anansi Surana is both the Grey Warden that ends the Blights once and for all, and the Herald of [???] (Razikale, but no one knows that) that lays the groundwork for a new world. he's also a First Enchanter for a while. he gets around, you could say. Elijah Wolf (or, Elijah Hawk-child, for much of DA2) is Lord Protector of Kirkwall but that doesn't stop him or his seneschal Varric Tethras from gallivanting off to Skyhold. I don't play in the Dragon Age space much anymore, unfortunately, so don't expect much about these guys unless they respawn in another universe (which is highly possible). or unless I play DA4. which is also possible.

Adrian Shepard is Commander of the SSV Normandy and the scourge of the Reapers. until he becomes something bigger than the Reapers. good thing he's on our side.

Claudio V Invictus is the Saint of Saints and the CEO of Saintscorp. he is the owner of every single pair of the booty shorts in those "shorts that say [x] on the ass" memes.

there are others -- Keahi the Watcher of Caed Nua, Llovyn Arendur of Skyrim, Ananduil and Venanduil of Azeroth, loads more Thedosians, etc -- but they don't have populated tags yet because they simply haven't come up nearly as often.

questions, comments, crack headcanons, etc about anyone here are extremely encouraged and appreciated. you truly cannot go wrong

(side note: #spicy oc tag is where all the nasty posts go. because there will be nasty posts. I delight in debauchery)

#blog maintenance #general oc tag

[lordgortrash]

@bardchoices asked: “I’m starting to think you don’t know where you’re going."

He paused as her voice glanced off the ancient, moldering stones. Far overhead, the city of Baldur’s Gate was thrumming with life: fishermen peddling their wares, neighborly disputes spilling out into the open streets. Children laughing, beggars crying, the clank of great metal behemoths on tired cobblestones. But the chaos of the city did not permeate down here, in the sullen tunnels of the undercity. It had the air of a tomb, as if some great reaper loomed in the hollow dark, waiting to prey on their hesitation.

Perhaps that was not so far from the truth. They were here seeking the Temple of Bhaal, after all. This place was hallowed ground to murderers and cannibals—nameless horrors that found their home deep in shadow. 

—They could have the sewers, as far as he was concerned. Though he was hardly one to shy away from murder, Orin’s obsession with the grotesque was beyond obscene. He couldn't think of a more appropriate place for her.

“I may have founded a rather spectacular cult, but the Children of Bhaal are zealots the likes of which you’ve never seen. It isn’t as though they’ve invited me over for tea. They’re fiercely protective of their temple.” His brow furrowed as he turned back to Liana, wan light casting angular features in deep relief as he considered her for a moment. She was calm. Breaths were measured; shoulders back, chin held high. That was good. Maybe she wouldn’t wither at the sight of a few skinned bodies.

“Be ready for a fight—they won’t take kindly to our intrusion.”

#bardchoices #idk how we managed to evolve him into a companion but here we are

[ghaik]

the bhaal reaper guy clotilde is kinda

#.txt #bg3 blogging #bg3 spoilers #dont look @ me but im right

[maegalkarven]

Dreams of Red.

Characters: Enver Gortash, Dark Urge (Nemo).

Set between Empty Prayers and returning to BG in act 3.

Nemo dreams, Gortash wakes up.

TW: blood (mention), physical abuse (mention), choking, suggestive, not toxic but also not a healthy relationship (meaning they are awful but together kind of cancel it for each other).

He dreams of home; not the home in the flesh, but that place of dark alcoves and labyrinths made out of caves. He dreams of blood rivers running down the steps, of red fire lit sockets on a giant skull.

He dreams of his assassins, the unlucky souls who fated to meet him once and were damned enough to be caught in his gaze.

The First kneels before the altar, a tribute plastered on it, eyes closed in a reverent prayer.

She does not actually pray, somehow he knows it as well as he knows how many heartbeats are currently booming inside these halls.

The First is deep in thoughts and her thoughts are dark knots of resentment, anger and despair.

She grieves.

"Reaper of Bhaal," they turn around together as one; the girl made murderer made assassin and the benefactor who brought her there. So close to the girl's body he can taste the blood and sweat on her skin, sees dark shadows under her cold calculating eyes.

"Orin," falls from the First's lips. This is disobedience, he knows it somehow, for she is not simply Orin, but the Chosen of Bhaal.

Or is she?

"Look at what you have done," Orin-not-Orin says and her voice ricochets from the ceiling. It sounds...different.

It multiplies and shakes, and twists, and then suddenly its Sceleritas' voice.

Orin keeps opening and closing her mouth, but the sound he hears does not come from her.

"Look at the deeds of your disobedience. Once proud Temple of the most Gracious of the gods, now intruded upon by a mindless, senseless being you were supposed to enslave," an invisible hand closes over his throat, constricting the air.

He sees black and then red and then - Father.

Father is angry and that anger washes over him in waves, breaking his skin and piercing soft innards.

•••

He is seven again, bloodied heap of limbs on the floor as his caretaker walks around in circles.

"You're weak," Sarevok speaks. The boy hates Sarevok for how much his approval means to him. "You're fragile. You disappoint Father with your single existence. Stand up," a blunt hit across the spine. "Stand up and learn." Another hit. "Prove yourself worthy to be called a Child of Bhaal."

He is seven and he already talks more than he should, so he asks.

"Like you?"

Sarevok's unnaturally bright eyes blaze and the next hit landing on the boy makes him black out for a moment.

"Stand up," he hears again as his conscience returns. "Or die a scum and come back to Him graceless."

He stands up.

•••

Blood fills up his mouth, blood fills up his lungs. He gasps, choking, fighting the gravity - and swims up.

The pool is deeper than it should have been, the sacrificial room is darker, and Father's presence pierces his skull like thousand of red hot needless.

"Beloved son," Sarevok announces and the Echoes repeat. "Prodigal son, bathed in sacrificial blood in Your name, Father. Greet the unholy assassin born anew, Lord Bhaal, grace him with your presence."

He wants to step back, to avoid what is to come, but Bhaal is in his mind in an instance: an endless, darkest, bloodiest night.

The presence of Father is so strong the boy feels his own mind disappear, drown in the sheer force of his father's love.

Finally. He is worthy.

•••

Hands - bloodied, sheets - bloodied. Body after body, cold bed, red bed, sacrificial bed. Lover after lover, dead, dead, dead, dead.

Until the last one.

Until-

•••

He wakes up to the scene of Enver's flushed up face beneath him, the assassin's hands grasping at his throat firmly, pressing down, down, down, until the windpipe gives out, until the light leaves the eyes-

Nemo breaks the hold and collapses into the bed; not his bed, but the one he managed to crawl into in his sleep regardless. Gortash goes into the fit of coughs, proving once again how alive he still is.

Finally the man calms it down and tries his voice, hoarse from all the abuse.

"Good morning to you too."

Nemo doesn't reply, face digging into the rough pillows bellow - they used to be much softer than that - covering himself with Enver's blankets.

"Nemo," he refuses to answer. "Oh, for fuck's sake," the covers are dragged off his head, said head - turned.

Bluish bruises slowly imprint themselves on Enver's neck, prominent even in the dim light of the tent.

He appears to be annoyed.

"I said," the lord repeats. "Good morning."

Nemo contemplates tearing into this throat with bare teeth and chewing his way into the sweet red embrace of it.

"Nemo."

"Morning," he grumbles, unhappy. With this, with them, with the way Enver doesn't even look surprised, doesn't even care he almost died.

Again. He almost died again.

Something in the man's face softens.

"Bad dream?" And it's a cue for Nemo to crawl closer, to plant his face directly into the throat he was just squeezing the life out of, to put his lips to a pulse line and drink in the sound.

"Umgh," he replies unhelpfully. "Father is angry with me."

He can't remember the last time Father was not angry with him.

Enver sighs.

"At least he's still with you."

Nemo bites into the soft flesh slightly and then licks down at the bite.

"I wish he wouldn't," the admittance is so quiet it should be impossible to hear. Enver hears it anyway.

"And what would you do," a soft touch to his temple, nails scratching at the nape of his neck. Nemo feels his body relax at the merest of the contact. "If he'd let you go?"

"Whatever the fuck I want," another half-hearted bite. Enver always tastes divine. It makes Nemo want to tear at his flesh, crawl into his ribcage and stay there, forever as one. "Whoever I want."

"Oh?" His lover chuckles at that. "Have a list of men you want to fuck without killing them?"

No, Nemo thinks. Well, maybe. Not a list, no, but-

"I'd love to wake up someday without my body moving on its accord," he grumbles, tracing a scar down Enver's torso. A long and rigged thing running all the way to his abdomen. One of the earliest marks Nemo has left on him.

"I'm still alive," Gortash reads between the lines.

"You seem to be incredibly unbothered by the way I go for your throat, not even metaphorically speaking," the spawn comments. "Figures you'd be into me failing to kill you."

"You're not failing," Enver's breath burns into his hair, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. "You stray your hand."

"One day I won't."

"Today is not that day."

"You keep saying it every time it happens."

"I am alive every time it happens."

There's blood underneath his nails: it tastes sour.

There's also a row of deep red lines scratched somewhere into Enver's flesh.

Nemo snuggles up closer.

"I hate everything in this world but you," he confesses.

His lordling hums.

"I consider you a rare feat of a person who delights me more than not," he replies.

Nemo laughs.

"Smooth, motherfucker."

Enver gasps, fake-scandalized.

"But dearest, you don't even have a mother for me to fuck."

The spawn giggles like a lovesick girl and closes his eyes.

After a moment he opens his mouth again.

"How is," and how do you say it? How is everything? How are the ruins of your life? How does everyone at the camp treat you?

How does he say what he wants to say without, you know, actually saying it?

"Is Bane still silent?" He resolves on and then mentally kicks himself. Of fucking course Bane is still silent.

But again, so is Gortash.

"Yes," he replies after such suffocating pause Nemo started to wonder who was chocking who. "I...don't think he'll answer."

"I wish Bhaal would shut the fuck up," Nemo blurts and receives a surprised chuckle into his hair.

"Have you tried telling him that?" Even without looking up Nemo knows Gortash is smiling.

"Do you really think father dearest would listen?" He grumbles back. "He just gave me a lecture on how bad of a son I am."

"Aren't we all?" Enver's hands move in soothing circles up and down his lower stomach, inciting a rush of goosebumps and a wave of heat. Nemo catches one of the hands and moves it even lower.

"I'm going to be the absolute nightmare to be in any relation to," he states as Enver's swift fingers start doing their job.

"You're absolute nightmare in any other accord too," his lover murmurs into his ear, bringing out the first breathless sigh out of his lips. "And I don't think I'd want you any other way."

Well, if this is what Enver's into, who is Nemo to deny him?

•••

Karlach glares at the column of Gortash's neck with a scowl so deep it should have been cut directly into her skin, not pulled up by the muscles.

"I didn't do that to myself," Enver comments for some goddamn reason, making the entire situation more awkward than it already was.

The wizard chokes on air.

"Yeah, we didn't really think you did," former sharran comments, eyes darting to where Nemo is seated, stoically ignoring any inquiring gazes straying his way. "That would be anatomically impossible."

"You never know," the lord feels the need to argue. "I am man of many talents."

The vampire spawn snorts.

"Something tells me this is the product of someone else's talents," he comments.

Young Ravengard clears his throat.

"I have questions," he admits.

Enver seizes him with a stare.

"And do you want to hear the answers?"

"Not...really, no."

"Good. It seems we are on the same page then."

"I hate this fucking family," Karlach murmurs.

"Darling," the vampire starts. "I am touched! But also this one is more dysfunctional than the family I left behind, and those were the vampire spawns."

"My father is the God of Murder," Nemo comments from the distance. "How about that for dysfunctional?"

"And aren't you a walking red flag, my dear."

"Hey, excuse me, I'm the nicest murder incarnate you'd ever meet-"

This entire group of losers, Gortash decides. Is a freak show.

It might be just worthwhile enough to stick around.

#durgetash #dark urge x gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge: nemo #empty prayers au #the first is clotilda #bhaal sees nemo's children in numbers and nemo watches the dream through his father's gaze #nemo is sulking bc he almost killed Gortash again meanwhile gortash is like: oh just another day in the live of bhaalspawn's lover. #the sheer confidence that one has what nemo will always stray his hand is. uh. enver dear. this is not sane. or safe #it indeed is consentual

[rpgchoices]

Useless rpgs recs. Rpgs where you can SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER

Useless rpgs recs. Rpgs where you can become a god

Baldur's Gate II (Throne of Bhaal) = the whole purpose of the game is that you are the child of a god and at the end you can choose if you want to stay mortal or become the god of murder. Good luck! The Age of Decadence = at the end you can become/absorb a god and become a god yourself or end up a body puppet for that god Mass Effect 3 = in the "control" ending, Shepard becomes the big controller of the Reapers, basically a god keeping track of what's going on in the galaxy Divine Divinity = you don't exactly become a god, but basically a jesus figure on earth. This happens also in DOS2! Arcanum of Steamwork and Magick Obscura = at the end you can decide to ascend to godhood and become an evil dark god, or a just balanced one (or even a quiet hidden god)

#divine divinity #mass effect #age of decadence #baldur's gate #arcanum #useless recs

[transjarlaxle]

the dawn soon to come, a cold wind will blow

he’s on his way home

reaper, cleric of bhaal

#mine #moodboard #character moodboard #my oc #reaper #tiefling #death domain #dnd #d&d #dnd 5e #dungeons and dragons #curse of strahd #blood tw

[crossdressingdeath]

Reaper of Bhaal Velki: I hear you are to duel Lady Orin... If it pleases you, Child of Murder, I would have her carcass once you are finished. Kyvir: ...Why? Reaper of Bhaal Velki: Oh, nothing untoward. I simply wish to flay her. Reaper of Bhaal Velki: Such skin she has... so fine and malleable. What a trophy it would make...

...Sure. Why not. Bhaalists really are incapable of not being absolutely bizarre for even five minutes, I love them.

#bg3

[moriveth]

Top Ten Games Of The Moment

I just finished DQ7, which I enjoyed, but it got me thinking that I still liked 5 better, so now here’s a list of my Top 10 Games that I can think of right now. No numbers because I hate quantifying stuff like that. It’s hard enough picking 10 games, let alone putting them into any actual order. Dragon Quest V: Hand Of The Heavenly Bride - This game just oozes charm and the story is still one of my favorites. Dragon Quest games hold a special place in my heart because despite some raw-ass shit going down the world is still optimistic and cheery, there’s still room for heroes to do hero shit and for people to be happy! And as a dad, the emphasis on being a parent (and starting out with your dad) really helps too.  Diablo 3 - I love all the Diablo games, but I have put more than a few hundred hours into Diablo 3, especially after the addition of Reaper Of Souls and the new-old loot system. The story may be trash, but I’ll never tire of demons exploding around me and me being showered in loot.  Terraria - Minecraft is great and all, but when I fall into a Terraria hole, I typically don’t get out for a while. The fact that you gather various villagers to your ramshackle homestead made me enjoy building more than the strictly utilitarian residences I normally do. Plus, the music is very good. It’s a great game to listen to a podcast while playing due to the general lack of focus on story. Just... build. And enjoy. All The Classic Lucasarts Games - Okay so maybe this one is cheating, but I can’t think of a series that really informed my sense of humor as much as the various games this company made. That’s something to be remembered for. Baldur’s Gate 2 - The ultimate culmination of the often-fantasized idea of being a hero who starts out as a nobody and ends up deciding the fate of the world. Baldur’s Gate 1 was a great start, but BG2 really kicked it up a notch by introducing you to some real-ass stakes in the world that you’re a part of. And then Throne of Bhaal goes even further with your character finally meeting their destiny. It’s got a load of memorable characters, and also Valygar. Sorry Valygar, but you are kinda boring.

Assassin’s Creed 2 - After the game that was full of promise but a not-great payoff, that was AC1, I have to admit I was doubtful of Assassin’s Creed 2. But after playing it, it was an amazing evolution of the game that improved basically every lacking aspect of the first. More mission variety, actual rewards for collecting the collectibles (also significantly less collectibles), a move forward with the modern-day story... It was an amazing step up for a game that really deserved it. I know Brotherhood is a better game overall, as it finally gave you the ability to run your own Assassin’s guild, but AC2 was such an unbelievable improvement over the first game.

Jagged Alliance 2 - I loved the first Jagged Alliance but I never got terribly far in it. My love for the game was mostly rooted in the cheesy voice acting and the fact that you could hire a huge variety of mercenaries - some of whom were actually entirely useless in most respects. JA2 took that and ran with it, adding copious amounts of customizability, new mercenaries, returning old mercenaries, hell, even explaining what happened to the mercenaries that didn’t make it into the game. The 1.13 patch adds even more, probably way more that’s needed, but the ability to turn various new features off and on adds a lot to the game. Although the game trades excessively heavily on stereotypes (which might make it understandably hard for some people to play), I feel like since the game is so reminiscent of 80′s and early 90′s action films that it would seem weird if the characters had much actual depth to them. 

Overwatch - Gonna be honest here, I’m only level 15 in Overwatch. But man, the fact that I can continually come back to this multiplayer-only game and play a few rounds, and feel like I still did okay despite not playing obsessively? That is a rare, rare feeling for me. Blizzard made so many smart decisions in the design of this game that I can’t help but applaud them for it. I’m never going to be good at Overwatch, but the fact that the game makes me feel good when I do well is completely laudable. 

Fallout 1 & 2 - There was a summer where I essentially played nothing BUT Fallout 1 and 2 for hours at a time. That’s not something I can do nowadays, I don’t really have the time for that, but at the moment then it seemed like there was a limitless amount of things to do in those games. I was definitely too young for them at the time, but man. MAN. I even have fond memories of some of the bugs in the initial bug-ridden release of Fallout 2 - specifically the one that made your car disappear but left the trunk, and it followed you around from area to area like The Luggage from Discworld. 

The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind - Morrowind is another game that I played a ton of, and the beginning of my tendency to just ignore the story of Bethesda games and stop playing when I felt satisfied. My first game of Morrowind was, largely, the story of an Imperial Agent who immediately fucked off from Seyda Neen to make his own story in the world, a story that mostly involved stealing from everyone he met, and when the time came to save the world, he had to run back to Seyda Neen to buy back the story item that he had accidentally sold to the game. I still enjoy the successive Elder Scrolls and Bethesda products, but Morrowind had such a bizarre world that it was terminally disappointing to me that they walked back the weird fantasy aspect in favor of more standard fare. Less castles and knights, more mushroom towers and chitin armor. 

#top10games #videogames #ja2 #fallout #morrowind #overwatch #baldurs gate #terraria #dragon quest v

[echthr0s]

for adrian: desire & midnight. for nuadha: hate & monster. :)

[NOT-SO-NICE OC ASKS]

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

This style of question tends to irk me and I think it's because it is especially revealing of the artifice of Being A Character. A [Main] Character must have a singular motivation, a driving force that propels them through The Narrative -- that, in fact, forms the entire structure of said Narrative. Yes, yes, fine and good, however, the fact that "defeat the Reapers" is largely the Motivation that must carry Adrian forward through the Story that is our interpretation of his life, it isn't "what he wants more than anything", because nothing is (it's just a thing that really needs doing -- so, more like an obligation/duty than an intrinsic motivation). He does not have a Life Goal, he has whatever is in front of him, whatever small desires knit together to create the appearance of cohesion (wanting to get off Earth, wanting to be someone of rank so he didn't have to take orders, wanting closeness with various individuals, wanting to see the Citadel... all these little desires drive him forward just as surely as a big desire would).

If a reporter asked him this (and one of them most likely has), he'd say something flippant like "to be featured on the cover of Fornax and then spend a nice long shoreleave in the company of nine of its hottest stars", which, to be fair, could potentially speak volumes about what Adrian wants out of life.

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

What keeps Adrian up at night is: his chronic insomnia, his body going haywire because he keeps making it do shit it shouldn't be able to do, and Reaper visions. Also, his various boudoir companions. Obviously.

He also takes immediately to the timey-wimey nature of space and doesn't really know how to keep a schedule, despite the fact that the military employs strict regiments to circumvent that very likelihood. Sure, the Normandy simulates circadian cycles just fine, but he stopped being able to adhere to them long ago. He sleeps when he gets to the point where he can't not sleep, and he's awake the rest of the time. No matter what "time" the ship says it is.

More to the "fears and anxieties" spirit of the question, he is ever-anxious about his ability to perform the duties expected of him, his increasing strangeness and the future it foretells, whether all his friends and lovers will die (and whether it will be because of something he's done), you know, the usual.

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Herself, mainly, for a long time. Ioannu is separated from her vessel for years (thanks to Bhaal's gambit, of course) and Nuadha is left alone with all her strangeness, all the things that make her both covetable and repulsive to the average person. This persists through the fracturing of his identity, and makes it hard for the newly-freed Ioannu to reach him. (Which is why Ioannu has to deputise a couple of well-placed companions to help, instead.)

When the fog clears, new hatreds arise. For Bhaal, of course, but also for various people who hurt her over time. This hatred sometimes extends to regular joes in Baldur's Gate, people who are like the people who hurt her, and sometimes she has trouble remembering that this person in front of her is not the same person that hurt her, they've just triggered that memory in her and reopened that wound. There are... definitely a couple of relapses into old murder habits, especially before his final rejection of Bhaal's taint, but over time he learns to use less felonious outlets for this misplaced rage.

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

I mean, she's my OC, ain't she? :p

Nuadha's particular strain of monstrousness is manifold and intersects in some weird ways -- she is a tiefling, she is a god-vessel (mother-god), and she is god-touched (different god*). There is no getting around it, there is no hiding it, Nuadha's strangeness is as glaringly obvious as a Daylight spell. People who remember well the Times of Troubles are either less perturbed or more perturbed by her than the average youngster, depending on how that era affected them and their general feelings about quasi-deities and the like, but everyone has a reaction either way. Being perceived with such strong responses all the time (even on the occasion that those responses happen to be more favourable) is very exhausting and stressful, as I'm sure any of us can imagine.

She tries to reject it by accepting Bhaal's touch, but all that does is make it so people only have one reaction to her -- fear. It seems easier. She knows what she is now -- something horrible, something that is meant to bring destruction. This is easier. She can do this. Right...?

*there's a heresy about Ioannu and Bhaal being two offshoots of the same, larger entity, but most people who are aware of both gods assume they're more like a Selûne/Shar kind of deal. who is right? wrong kind of question

#.adrian #.nuadha #general oc tag