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lettersfrombel21 Tarsakh 1492 DR
Ebonlake Grotto
My dear River,
The good news is that we defeated the duergar that were harassing the myconids and deep gnomes. The bad news is that this is more Cult of the Absolute rubbish, and I have to stop being surprised by this. The mix of my good looks (well, being a drow) and Junior meant that I did get some information and learned the deep gnomes were taken across the lake to dig out rubble on something the Absolute wants. Knowing that we’re heading towards their main base, it is probably going to be unavoidable, even if I hadn’t agreed with Sovereign Spaw to take out the local cult to save them some trouble. The leader is a drow named Nere, which... a House name would be nice. I am hoping my family is far enough away that they are not touching this mess, but I can’t be sure of that.
Alas, Sovereign Glut did not survive the encounter with the duergar. It was quite happy to help us, and rushed right ind rating most of their attention. I hope it was satisfied that it got to take those motherless duergar with it into death. I don’t understand myconids, but from what Glut said, it had no place in the Ebonlake Grotto, and no way to recreate its own home with new myconids.
Sovereign Spaw named me ‘Peace-bringer’, but I don’t know if one can really call it bringing peace by killing people. At best, I can say that if the duergar weren’t willing to leave the myconids be unless they turned over Thulla, then that doesn’t leave much room to negotiate. Spaw seemed happy, and, given how many spores myconids use for communication, I feel buoyant, is the best word for it. Not enough that I’m not still sharp in a fight, but like things are more likely to go our way for once.
With that settled, we did get a chance to check out the tower Omeluum mentioned as formerly belonging to a colleague, a cleric of Mystra, who might have the ingredients it needed. I say formerly, because the tower was clearly abandoned, and run down enough that the owner had not been back. Which meant I didn’t mind relocating the alchemical ingredients, spell scrolls and books into our possession. Wizards — and a cleric of Mystra is close enough that I’ll count her as a wizard — don’t seem to do things simple. She had built a device that turned sussur blooms into power for the lights and defenses, and a strange arcane circle she used instead of a nice, sensible set of stairs. The defenses also had their own power, which meant that Gale had a lot of lightning spells to cast so we could even get into the place. I then had to climb down to the basement via the outside to get the generator going. It would be nice if there had been a ‘in case of emergencies, here is a simple and non-magical path for allies to enter’, but I suppose that also allows for enemies.
But, we got the ingredients, and Omeluum brewed its potion. Frankly that potion was the worst trip I have ever been on, which shouldn’t be surprising when the major ingredients are timmask spores and tongue of madness. One befuddles people with things only they can see, and the other, when eaten, causes someone to be unable to stop talking. It wasn’t bad enough that I lose all sense of where I was and what I was doing, but it took focus to let Omeluum work. And, well, as badly as it affected me, it hit Junior worse. I swear, the damned thing tried to either burst out of my head, or force ceremophosis or something, and I was getting all the emotional feedback from it. It did manage to throw Omeluum’s psychic influence off, which, well done for something that is not even an actual mind flayer yet, even if I don’t appreciate it as there one whose head it is living in.
Next is heading over across the lake. We have a boat, and hopefully one of us can figure out how to navigate. I managed to get a mind flayer nautiloid out of the Hells, I should be able to navigate a boat, correct?
River, I know you won’t get this letter in time to do me any good, but I’m having complicated feelings about Astarion, and I don’t like it. He’s attractive, and tremendous fun, and witty, and good in bed, but…
Picture me, when you first met me. A drow, new to the surface and suddenly realizing that my own people have poisoned the well so much that my options are strictly limited. I don’t know how I got that orphanage to take in Nurgle; must have been some god’s blessing, or else having a drow giving away a human was considered a ‘don’t stop them from doing something helpful for once’. I suspect you would have run me through if you were less perceptive, or I less quick to speak. (If you would have, I’m not offended by it.)
So let us imagine that, instead of you and the children, I find myself in a group of adventurers bound by a common enemy. Most, if not all of them, make it clear that they do not trust me, and expect me to be poisoning dinner or stabbing them in their sleep, or carting them off to the Underdark for a life of slavery. Pick your favorite stereotypical drow activity. However, the leader of the group made it clear that I am welcome among them. That I could hold a blade to their throat and they would trust that, at the least, I’d hesitate long enough that they could disarm me or talk me down. And, also that they found me very attractive, because I can read body language.
You better believe that if I thought becoming their lover would ensure I would not be kicked out on my own, into a perilous situation with no allies, I would be turning on the charm and trying to get into their pants. Regardless of my own opinion on how attractive I found them. And I also know what it feels like to be in that mindset, I’ll say delicately, and it is not something I’d wish on anyone I like. So, paradoxically, the more I like Astarion, the less I want to be in his bed until I’m sure of his motivations.
If this is what it feels like to have integrity, I hate it. I would prefer regular orgasms from something other than my own hands and no guilt.
I probably should have thought of this before I slept with him, but I didn’t really consider it until I helped him with another matter, and noticed how different he acts when he’s appreciating something other than my good looks, talents in the bedroom and delicious blood. Call it habit; the position I’m in is one I typically associate with women, not men. I’m still not fully adapted to the surface, obviously.
I really need an actual person to talk to this about. I don’t know who — at this point, unless Master Halsin is willing to offer some sage romantic advice without me giving away too many details kept in confidence, I might just have to tell it to Scratch, which isn’t that much more helpful than writing it to you.
I’ll figure it out. Sooner or later.
Your friend,
Bel
From the Player:
Ebonlake Grotto
My dear River,
The good news is that we defeated the duergar that were harassing the myconids and deep gnomes. The bad news is that this is more Cult of the Absolute rubbish, and I have to stop being surprised by this. The mix of my good looks (well, being a drow) and Junior meant that I did get some information and learned the deep gnomes were taken across the lake to dig out rubble on something the Absolute wants. Knowing that we’re heading towards their main base, it is probably going to be unavoidable, even if I hadn’t agreed with Sovereign Spaw to take out the local cult to save them some trouble. The leader is a drow named Nere, which... a House name would be nice. I am hoping my family is far enough away that they are not touching this mess, but I can’t be sure of that.
Alas, Sovereign Glut did not survive the encounter with the duergar. It was quite happy to help us, and rushed right ind rating most of their attention. I hope it was satisfied that it got to take those motherless duergar with it into death. I don’t understand myconids, but from what Glut said, it had no place in the Ebonlake Grotto, and no way to recreate its own home with new myconids.
Sovereign Spaw named me ‘Peace-bringer’, but I don’t know if one can really call it bringing peace by killing people. At best, I can say that if the duergar weren’t willing to leave the myconids be unless they turned over Thulla, then that doesn’t leave much room to negotiate. Spaw seemed happy, and, given how many spores myconids use for communication, I feel buoyant, is the best word for it. Not enough that I’m not still sharp in a fight, but like things are more likely to go our way for once.
With that settled, we did get a chance to check out the tower Omeluum mentioned as formerly belonging to a colleague, a cleric of Mystra, who might have the ingredients it needed. I say formerly, because the tower was clearly abandoned, and run down enough that the owner had not been back. Which meant I didn’t mind relocating the alchemical ingredients, spell scrolls and books into our possession. Wizards — and a cleric of Mystra is close enough that I’ll count her as a wizard — don’t seem to do things simple. She had built a device that turned sussur blooms into power for the lights and defenses, and a strange arcane circle she used instead of a nice, sensible set of stairs. The defenses also had their own power, which meant that Gale had a lot of lightning spells to cast so we could even get into the place. I then had to climb down to the basement via the outside to get the generator going. It would be nice if there had been a ‘in case of emergencies, here is a simple and non-magical path for allies to enter’, but I suppose that also allows for enemies.
But, we got the ingredients, and Omeluum brewed its potion. Frankly that potion was the worst trip I have ever been on, which shouldn’t be surprising when the major ingredients are timmask spores and tongue of madness. One befuddles people with things only they can see, and the other, when eaten, causes someone to be unable to stop talking. It wasn’t bad enough that I lose all sense of where I was and what I was doing, but it took focus to let Omeluum work. And, well, as badly as it affected me, it hit Junior worse. I swear, the damned thing tried to either burst out of my head, or force ceremophosis or something, and I was getting all the emotional feedback from it. It did manage to throw Omeluum’s psychic influence off, which, well done for something that is not even an actual mind flayer yet, even if I don’t appreciate it as there one whose head it is living in.
Next is heading over across the lake. We have a boat, and hopefully one of us can figure out how to navigate. I managed to get a mind flayer nautiloid out of the Hells, I should be able to navigate a boat, correct?
River, I know you won’t get this letter in time to do me any good, but I’m having complicated feelings about Astarion, and I don’t like it. He’s attractive, and tremendous fun, and witty, and good in bed, but…
Picture me, when you first met me. A drow, new to the surface and suddenly realizing that my own people have poisoned the well so much that my options are strictly limited. I don’t know how I got that orphanage to take in Nurgle; must have been some god’s blessing, or else having a drow giving away a human was considered a ‘don’t stop them from doing something helpful for once’. I suspect you would have run me through if you were less perceptive, or I less quick to speak. (If you would have, I’m not offended by it.)
So let us imagine that, instead of you and the children, I find myself in a group of adventurers bound by a common enemy. Most, if not all of them, make it clear that they do not trust me, and expect me to be poisoning dinner or stabbing them in their sleep, or carting them off to the Underdark for a life of slavery. Pick your favorite stereotypical drow activity. However, the leader of the group made it clear that I am welcome among them. That I could hold a blade to their throat and they would trust that, at the least, I’d hesitate long enough that they could disarm me or talk me down. And, also that they found me very attractive, because I can read body language.
You better believe that if I thought becoming their lover would ensure I would not be kicked out on my own, into a perilous situation with no allies, I would be turning on the charm and trying to get into their pants. Regardless of my own opinion on how attractive I found them. And I also know what it feels like to be in that mindset, I’ll say delicately, and it is not something I’d wish on anyone I like. So, paradoxically, the more I like Astarion, the less I want to be in his bed until I’m sure of his motivations.
If this is what it feels like to have integrity, I hate it. I would prefer regular orgasms from something other than my own hands and no guilt.
I probably should have thought of this before I slept with him, but I didn’t really consider it until I helped him with another matter, and noticed how different he acts when he’s appreciating something other than my good looks, talents in the bedroom and delicious blood. Call it habit; the position I’m in is one I typically associate with women, not men. I’m still not fully adapted to the surface, obviously.
I really need an actual person to talk to this about. I don’t know who — at this point, unless Master Halsin is willing to offer some sage romantic advice without me giving away too many details kept in confidence, I might just have to tell it to Scratch, which isn’t that much more helpful than writing it to you.
I’ll figure it out. Sooner or later.
Your friend,
Bel
From the Player:
Not much to say on my end, though I also found the hidden kuo-toa encampment, and Bel is marginally concerned about how a Bhaalite tract got there.
I don’t have a good enough grasp on Halsin’s characterization to write out a ‘hidden scene’ where Bel actually tries to get advice. Like, Bel might consider Halsin a DILF, but he also figures ‘yeah, I just need to talk this out to someone who can actually ask questions, and I don’t think any of my companions are helpful’. A glance at the wiki shows that Halsin does have some experience with the drow, so Bel mostly talking through his own issues might help.
(I also wonder how that looks from Halsin’s POV. Because Bel is fine with poison and backstabbing people, but probably the first thing he said to Halsin was apologizing that he didn’t quite pull off the rescue as timely as he liked, because he couldn’t figure out a way to get the goblin kids out of the room before letting bear!Halsin out, because that is the moral line he won’t cross. Halsim may just assume that Bel isn’t so much good or evil as ‘deeply weird’.)
Other things I wonder about re: Halsin. Given how every companion has some sort of secret, how much did they all agree to talk about around Halsin? Astarion seems to be keeping things close to his chest, but probably hard to hide the vampire thing from a druid who can smell blood. (Mostly I figure the Cazador stuff is ‘only those who need to know’.) Given Shar’s involvement in the Shadow-cursed lands, mentioning ‘oh, yeah, our cleric is a Sharran’, seems to be a bad idea, but Shadowheart is quite happy to greet you with Shar’s blessing. Gale probably has trouble talking about the bit of the Weave latched onto him that could explode, and might well think anyone but a high-level wizard (or maybe a cleric of Mystra) would be useless at helping. The other three either might have things Halsin can observe (since people at the grove saw Wyll before and after his transformation, Karlach is physically too hot to touch and has a glowing chest, and Lae'zel is the least subtle person in the camp and sees no reason not to talk about how the githyanki would be doing this better).
You could say the same thing about Volo, but I generally assume Volo just figures he’ll make up something better anyway, so it's more 'steer him towards something harmless'. And I figure everyone assumes Withers has a limited set of interests and none of the camp drama is relevant to him unless he has to raise the dead.
(Like Withers has other reasons to know more than is said to him, but I just assume that everyone assumes he knows things because it took less than two days for everyone to stop noticing that he's there most of the time. I can see someone like Karlach making sure he's okay with largely being ignored, but once she's like 'okay, he mostly wants to hang out here and help us with revivals', Withers fades into the background for the group unless shit hits the fan.)
